Vallencian came to a stop and turned toward her cautiously. “Why would you want me to stay with them? Are you trying to get rid of me?”
Vlora could think of nothing more pleasurable or frustrating than the idea of having Vallencian along on Taniel’s mission. “I swear I am not. I know that you have done much for me—you damned well ended the Battle of Landfall—but I need a personal favor.”
“I sacrificed my ships for Fatrasta,” Vallencian declared. “I would not humble myself to claim a favor for such an act. In fact, I intend on charging Lindet for those ships, and the revenue I’ve lost from their destruction.”
“Reluctant businessman indeed,” Vlora murmured. “Vallencian, I have about seven hundred men who are too wounded to march. I have discharged them from the company so they won’t be treated as enemy combatants, but I need someone to care for them—to advocate for them—and if need be, to protect them.”
Vallencian drew himself up, chest puffing out. “And you would trust me with such a task?”
“If it’s not too …”
“Too much? It would be an honor!”
Vlora saw the movement too late. “Vallencian, don’t … hug me.” She found herself crushed against his broad chest, then thrust back at arm’s length like a father examining his daughter on her wedding day. His face was red, his lips pressed in a tight line.
“Please don’t cry,” Vlora said.
“I won’t.” Vallencian’s voice cracked, and he dabbed at the corners of his eyes with his bearskin. Vlora tried to reconcile the avenging angel piloting burning ships into the enemy fleet with the man standing before her on the edge of tears. “I won’t,” he said with more confidence. “But I will have you know that I accept this task, and I will take it very seriously. Your wounded soldiers will not be neglected or used as bargaining chips or in any way mistreated while I still live.”
Vlora wondered if there was a more genuine man in the entire world, and had no doubt that he would do as promised. “Some will die from their wounds,” she said quietly. “Some will be cripples for life. Hopefully more will recover fully. You can send them on to New Adopest to take a ship home where they can claim their pension. If they are hale, they can come find me.”
“You’re not going back to Adro?” Vallencian’s eyes narrowed curiously.
“It’s best I not tell you where we’re headed.”
“I understand.” Vallencian reached out and plucked the letter from Vlora’s fingers. “I will deliver this to Holm immediately.”
Vlora held up a hand. “If you would wait two hours, actually.”
“Exactly?” Vallencian produced a pocket watch. “It will be done. Good-bye, Lady Flint. May we meet again under more favorable circumstances.” He gave a flourishing bow and backed away, then turned and disappeared into the fog.
Vlora watched him go, then turned to find Ben Styke waiting for her. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
“What a strange person,” Styke said.
“He’s a good one,” Vlora said, somewhat more defensively than she’d intended.
Styke spread his hands. “I heard what he did with his ships at Landfall. ‘Strange’ isn’t an insult coming from me. You wanted to see me, Flint?”
“I expect you figured out we’re leaving.”
“I gathered. My lancers are ready to ride, but no one knows where to.”
Vlora stood on her toes, peering into the dark fog for some sign of Olem. She spotted him nearby, his jacket discarded while he and a trio of soldiers replaced a wagon wheel. “Where is Taniel?” she called to him.
“One, two …” Olem grunted as he helped lift the wagon, and replied in a strained voice and the jerk of his head. “Last I saw, he was getting a new horse.”
“Come with me,” Vlora told Styke. They walked over to a corral of captured Dynize horses, and found Taniel and Ka-poel going through the herd with a critical eye. She beckoned them over. While she waited, she turned to Styke. “You remember the godstone, correct?”
“The thing we fought the Dynize for south of Landfall?” He rubbed his nose vigorously. “That thing reeked of old sorcery. I didn’t like it.”
“I’ll give you the short version,” Vlora said. “That godstone is an artifact of immense sorcerous power. It is one of three that in conjunction can be used to create a new god. Taniel has hired us to find, secure, and hopefully destroy the other two godstones before either Lindet or the Dynize can find and use them.”
Styke stuck a tongue into his cheek. “Huh.”
“I don’t really care if you believe me. You and your lancers will be paid the same as my own Adrans—and Taniel is going to bleed gold for this.”
“I’ve heard weirder things,” Styke grunted.
“Are you in?”
“Perhaps. Where is our objective?”
“The western coast of Fatrasta, at the end of the Hammer.”
Styke lifted his eyes to the sky, his lips moving silently, as if he were examining a map in his head. A small, strange smile touched the corners of his mouth. “The money sounds good, and keeping Lindet away from her prize will delight the pit out of my lancers. So yes, I’m in.” Taniel and Ka-poel joined them, and Styke gave each a nod. He eyed Ka-poel for several seconds before turning his attention back to Vlora.
“Excellent,” Vlora said. She had expected more questions, defiance, or … she didn’t really know. Styke’s legend never included him being easy to work with, so his quick answer was a relief. “Taniel and Ka-poel managed to dig through the archives Lindet was forced to abandon in Landfall.”
“Her personal archives,” Taniel interjected.
Styke gave a low whistle. “I bet those were full of fun.”
“You have no idea.”
“I think I do,” Styke said with a tight smile.
Vlora continued. “Lindet has the approximate location of both of the other godstones, but as far as we know, she hasn’t actually found them yet. We don’t know if they’re hidden, or buried by time, or what. One of them is located in the Ironhook Mountains near a gold-mining town called Yellow Creek. I’m taking my army up to try and find it.”
“And you want the lancers to find the other one?”
“Our information on the other one is more vague,” Taniel spoke up. “We know it’s out on the Hammer, probably in the vicinity of Starlight. We need someone mobile to go looking for it.”
Styke looked from Taniel, to Ka-poel, to Vlora. Slowly, he took off his big ring and breathed on it, polishing the skull on the breast of his faded cavalry jacket. “Have the Dynize landed on the west coast?”
“That’s what Taniel’s intelligence says,” Vlora said. “Though not in as big numbers as at Landfall.” She watched Styke’s face for some hint of hesitation. She needed to go after both stones, but splitting her infantry was the worst possible scenario.
“And Lindet will no doubt have troops in the area,” Styke added.
“Without a doubt,” Vlora said. “I intend on putting Major Gustar and the remnants of his cuirassiers and dragoons under your command. You’ll be riding with close to a thousand seasoned cavalry.”
Styke replaced his ring and opened and closed his hand, eyes on a thin white scar over the tendons of his wrist. “Fewer might be better in this situation,” he said. “But Gustar knows what he’s doing. I’ll take them.” He nodded to himself, and Vlora let out a soft sigh of relief. Losing her cavalry would be rough, but Styke could use them more fully on the coast than she could up in the mountains. Styke opened his mouth, and Vlora tensed in the face of protestations. He said, “I can smell sorcery. I have a few other Knacked in my company. But if Lindet’s Privileged haven’t found it yet, how do you expect a bunch of lancers to do it?”
Vlora glanced at Taniel, who snorted out a laugh. “You remember that favor you owe me, Colonel?” Taniel asked.
“I do,” Styke said slowly.
Ka-poel grinned, and Taniel put his arm around her waist. “Well, I’m calling it in. You’re not going to find the godstone. She is, and you’re going to make sure she survives, even if it costs the lives of you and every one of your men.”