“Did you drop your voice in a well?” she asked.
He nodded foolishly. She had reached into the past, twisted her fingers around it, and yanked it back to watch it again. It horrified him. “Who…who was that?”
“Only a Sleepwalker,” she replied.
“And the others? Who were they?”
“One is a Knight of the Blade,” she murmured. “The woodsman is from the Riven Wood.”
“How do you know?”
She shook her head waved her finger. “Never doubt what I speak. Just believe. I’ve been in this valley for a long, long time.”
“Yes, my Lady.”
“The Shae,” she mused, rubbing her lip. “You saw them, didn’t you?” She stared past the wooden picket lines, oblivious to the masses of frightened soldiers watching her.
“You know them?” Dujahn demanded.
“One of them, yes. But I did not think he would return so quickly.”
Dujahn looked at her, confused. “The one who tried to hurt you?”
“Hurt me?” She laughed. “Really, Dujahn, you have no imagination at all. He cannot hurt me, for he is mine.”
“Then who was the other Shae?” he blurted out.
“Obviously the key to the lock,” she answered. “And I thought it would be Silverborne’s little one. Oh, this is getting very interesting indeed. If only General Dairron were here to enjoy it, too. Come, Dujahn. We have work to do.”
*
Dujahn coughed as he parted the tent flap. The room was full of officers wearing the black and gold of the Rebellion. He saw animosity on their faces, but he didn’t care. The Sorian gave him authority. They might glare and they might posture, but her threat was enough to keep their swords in their sheaths. “Excuse me, Colonel Hallstoy – the Lady of Vale would like to see you. She has your orders.”
Hallstoy looked at the officers surrounding him. Anger sparked and flashed in his eyes. Dispatch papers were littered on the only desk in the room and stacked in a heap on the floor. He had rosters and reports to prepare – knowing that his head was in jeopardy if he didn’t come up with explanations and answers for Ballinaire. “Get out.”
Dujahn stepped inside confidently. “Do we have to go through this again?”
The Colonel turned on Dujahn, his face red. “I don’t like repeating myself, Dujahn! You tell Dairron’s witch that I’ll take no orders from her. I lead this camp when Tsyrke is gone. And if she doesn’t like it, she can eat a warm bowl of trope!”
“Indeed,” Miestri said, slipping through the tent flaps behind Dujahn. A chill went through the tent. “Do let it be horse trope, Colonel. Cow trope wouldn’t fit in a bowl.”
Hallstoy’s eyes widened with shock. Scratching his balding scalp, Hallstoy spit on the floor and narrowed his gaze at her. “You have no authority in this camp, Miestri,” he said. “Tsyrke is on his way, and Mage with him. This is my command tent....”
Miestri lowered her cowl and her raven hair spilled out.
Hallstoy frowned, seeing her ivory smile. “Get out,” he hissed. “Take your banned magic and get out of my tent. We’ve just been under attack, and I don’t have time to be wasting on your whims, I don’t care...”
“My, we are brave,” Miestri said as she raised her fingers and closed them together. Hallstoy’s voice trailed off into a squeak and his eyes glazed over with fear. He might talk and bluster, but she was in control – even over his voice. Dujahn shivered. She stared into Hallstoy’s bloodshot eyes and flashed a wicked smile. A current of magic trembled in the air, and Dujahn stepped to the side. The other officers backed away from Hallstoy.
Hallstoy’s face started to twitch. A look of horror and pain twisted his expression, but he couldn’t speak. His hands flew to his face as rips and tears began splitting across his scalp and cheeks. Choking with agony, Hallstoy fled the tent, trying to keep the skin on his face. Several of the officers coughed, nearly gagging with disgust. No one stepped in to confront her.
“Officers,” Miestri said gently, spreading out her hands. “You disappoint me. It only took seven to make you all into fools.” Her mouth flashed a dangerous smile. There was something in the air, a tingling feeling that spread as she spoke. “Lord Ballinaire will be furious when the dispatch reaches him. Commander Phollen will be equally outraged. How could you let seven Inlanders humiliate you? These were Iniven farmers and Shaden with pruning hooks and straw arrows who defied the armies of the Rebellion!”
Dujahn swallowed, not daring to let the surprise show on his face. He watched the colonels cringe and twist with rage and anger. He stared at her in awe at how she used her powers to manipulate them.
“Could you not hear them laughing at you as they walked through your watch fires and posts? They were laughing at you!”
“There was a Sleepwalker…” one of them mumbled.