Dain Barden glanced up and frowned. Ella felt the familiar chill along her spine as he looked at her with penetrating blue-gray eyes. Tall, even for his people, and muscled more than any man she’d seen, Dain Barden pulled on his forked beard, playing with the silver thread woven through. His long white hair was braided at the back of his head, and the lines in his brow were cruel and forbidding.
“Ella,” the Dain said, “finally some news. The fact you are far from your home says much. How fares Altura?”
Ella took a deep breath. “Dain, Altura stands, but only just. We turned back the enemy, but with great loss of life. The forces of Altura and Halaran are shadows of what they once were. The free cities are gone.”
“But you turned them back?” the Dain said. “Good. We can go home.”
“You don’t know, then?” Shani asked.
“Who is this?” Dain Barden scowled.
“She is Shani, an elementalist of Petrya and a friend. We’ve been searching for you for weeks.”
“Tell me, what is it we don’t know, Ella?”
“Our enemy is crafty and divided his forces. While we were tied up fighting in Altura, he continued by sea to the lands in the east. A month ago Stonewater requested help. We can only assume that, while they would have held for a time, by now the land of the templars has gone to the shadow.”
Dain Barden’s eyes went wide. “And Seranthia?”
“That’s why we’re here,” Ella said. “With the emperor and most of the Legion marching back from Altura, along with the rest of our forces, the emperor asks . . . he requests . . . your help. Your force is in a position to delay the enemy until he can bring the Legion back.”
“Where is the enemy now?” one of the Dain’s commanders spoke.
“Most likely somewhere between Aynar and Tingara.”
“And what stands between the Lord of the Night and his goal?” Dain Barden said.
“The Hazarans.”
“Those desert men? Three years ago we were fighting them, and now you want us to help them?”
“It is the only way to save the Empire. We’ve been outmaneuvered, Dain. If the emperor hadn’t come to Altura’s aid, we would have fallen, yet by doing so he’s left Tingara exposed.”
“I’ll think on it,” Dain Barden said.
“Let’s head back to Ku Kara—” the commander began.
“I said I’ll think on it!” the Dain growled.
Ella and Shani swapped glances. Ella knew it wasn’t the time to press the proud Dain, but she also knew that without the Akari, the Hazarans were doomed to fight the enemy alone.
Ilathor and Jehral had come through for Altura. True to their word, they’d fought for Ella’s homeland and had lost a great many men.
Now it was Ella’s turn to come through for her friends.
“Leave me,” Dain Barden said. “Someone will find you tents. I need to think.”
“Of course,” Ella said.
She and Shani nodded and left the Dain of the Akari staring down at the map on the table, though his eyes had the look of a man seeing something else altogether.
As they left the pavilion behind, Shani turned to Ella. “That’s the first time we’ve met. Is he normally like that?”
Ella hesitated. “Gruff, yes. But there’s something affecting him.”
A steward in a gray uniform came forward. “Ladies? Would you care to follow me?”
Ella turned to the steward. “Is Ada here? The Dain’s daughter?”
The steward paled. “She’s . . . unwell.”
“Unwell?” Ella said. “Can I see her?”
The steward hesitated and then nodded. “I will show you. Be warned, it isn’t pleasant.”
He led them past campfires and clusters of tents to a structure larger than the rest, with a wide space left around it, as if the Dain’s warriors were reluctant to make their camp too close. As they passed through the entrance, Ella saw it was an infirmary tent. Her gaze took in dozens of cots, all lined up in rows.
Every bed had an occupant, and the sick people were mostly Akari men. Moans of pain sounded from many as they writhed and gripped their bedding. Others appeared to be comatose.
Ella and Shani followed the steward along a row, past a cot where an older man with a lean frame lay on his back. His head was strangely bald in wide patches, and his eyes were closed. If it weren’t for the rising and falling of his chest, Ella would have thought he was dead. At the next cot a younger man gasped in pain and clutched at his stomach, red blood showing between his teeth. Patches of bare skin also showed on his scalp.
Ada was on the next bed.
The Dain’s daughter was taller than Ella and older, with hair so pale it was close to white, and brilliant blue eyes. Ella looked down at the proud Akari woman in pity. Half her hair had come out, leaving ragged clumps, and her eyes were closed, though even in sleep her face was wracked in a grimace of pain.
“Please don’t wake her,” the steward said. “She rarely sleeps. If she does, it is a blessing.”
Ella wanted to squeeze Ada’s hand, but instead she bowed her head. She no longer wondered why the Dain had been so upset. Ella stayed for a while and then nodded that she wished to leave. Passing the rows of wretched Akari once more, Ella waited until they’d left the infirmary before she spoke in hushed tones.