A chestnut centaur, a runner from Mariana’s troop, came to take a look. “Captain, you should go back to the palace and have a healer treat that. It may need stitching.”

“Or a poultice to keep the swelling down,” Linsha added.

The half-elf grimaced. “Those things are always so noxious. Why, oh why, did the healers’ magic have to fail? I thought we were done with primitive medicine.”

“At least we have that,” said Linsha helping her to her feet.

“All right,” Mariana sighed. “I should report to General Dockett anyway. Luewellan, tell your group leader to post guards and let the troop stand down for a few hours. They need rest.”

The centaur saluted, gathered the weapons from the dead soldiers, and trotted hack to his position.

The half-elf nodded her thanks as Linsha gave her a steadying arm. The two women made their way back toward the palace courtyard to find a proper healer and a meal.

“I never want to see another night like that again,” Mariana muttered while they walked. Her normally robust, healthy enthusiasm had dulled to a thin patina under a full day of fear and fighting. Her long braids and uniform were filthy, her skin looked pale, and bluish shadows ringed her eyes.

Linsha knew without looking that she probably looked even worse. She struggled for something to say and found nothing. How could you pin platitudes to a day like yesterday? Or one like today? There was no help in sight. They would have a brief respite, and then the fighting would begin again, tearing away the city’s defenses a little bit at a time. Linsha knew she was worn to the bone, bruised, cut, aching, and her energy was nearly gone. But worst of all, her usual reservoir of optimism that had kept her going through many difficult crises was flagging. She could see no solution in sight, nor she could she relieve the biting worry in her mind about the brass eggs. The fighting had been too intense for her to slip away in the night to find the entrance to the labyrinth. She desperately wanted to go into the tunnels and check the eggs, to relieve her mind that they were still in the nest and unharmed, but then what? If they were still there, how safe would they be if Thunder sent his army combing the city for them? Iyesta’s safeguards might protect them for a little while, but Linsha doubted they would work for long against a determined blue dragon. Should she risk harming them and move them to some place out of the city? Would Purestian understand the danger and accept her help?

Linsha ground her teeth in frustration. Maybe she should trust Lanther and accept his help. He already suspected the dragon eggs existed, and he seemed quite adamant they be protected.

“Are you all right?” Mariana said beside her.

Linsha gave a lopsided grin and said, “As well as anyone else. Just lost in thought.”

The two women arrived in the courtyard and found it a place of barely contained chaos. Rows of wounded lay under the trees where healers worked hard to ease their suffering. Dragon’s guards, militia, centaurs, and a few Legionnaires ran back and forth carrying messages from Falaius to General Dockett, restocking supplies, fetching water, collecting weapons, and doing their best to fortify the walls of the old palace. This, Linsha realized, would probably be the place where those who survived would come to make their last stand. The thought grieved her more than she imagined it would.

From a battered table set up under a tree, General Dockett waved for Captain Brownstem to join him.

Linsha helped her friend over to the table. Without asking the militia commander’s permission, she eased the half-elf into the single chair and poured a glass of water from a pitcher on the commander’s table.

The militia commander took a look at Mariana’s shoulder and did not complain. He called for a healer, and while the man carefully cleaned and stitched the worst of the slash, he listened to her report.

Linsha had met the commander only a few times, yet she had only to look at the tightly-knit, well-organized militia under his command to know he was a good leader. The centaurs, too, thought highly of him, which said a good deal for his character and abilities. While the two officers talked, she sat on the ground in the shade and added only a rare comment. She shut out the noise and hubbub around her and concentrated on the tranquil movement of the wind through the tree leaves above her.

She was nearly asleep where she sat when something heavy moved beside her and a familiar voice said, “You’re not going to believe what I found.”

A charge of fear shot through her. It was Lanther’s voice. The eggs! He’d found the eggs. Her eyes flew open, and she stared uncomprehendingly at the man standing in front of her.

“He insisted on seeing you,” Lanther said beside her.

She twisted around to look at the Legionnaire then back to stare at the ragged, dusty young man in the blue Solamnic uniform. “Sir Hugh,” she whispered.

“Curse me for a draconian,” said General Dockett in surprise. “I heard your whole garrison was wiped out.”

The Solamnic Knight wiped the sweat on his face and folded his legs to sit on the ground across from Linsha. “Almost,” he said, his voice subdued with exhaustion and sadness. “About twenty of us managed to escape.”

Linsha held up a finger. “Don’t tell me. Let me guess. Sir Remmik had an escape route. Probably a tunnel under the hill. He led you all down there and as soon as it turned dark, he led you out and you fought your way through the lines to the North Gate.”

A pale twinkle lit in Hugh’s red-rimmed eyes. “You know the man well. We came in through the gap as the Brutes took down the North Gate.”

She sighed an exaggerated breath. “I guess that means he is still alive.”

“Very much so,” Lanther said.

“And the rest?”

Sir Hugh shook his head. “Sir Remmik waited too long to pull them off the walls. The only reason I survived was because I was in the cells at the time. The escape tunnel entered the dungeon at the back of the corridor, and Sir Pieter let me out as the survivors fled.”

“The cells?” Lanther asked. “What were you doing in there?”

“Spending some time reflecting on my incompetence as a Knight. I allowed an important prisoner to escape.”

Linsha did not appear to hear him. She stared at the tree. “Nearly fifty Knights,” she said. “How much we could use them now.”

“We’re fighting now,” said Sir Hugh. “Sir Remmik is coming here to join our forces with the militia.”

“Oh?” General Dockett exclaimed. “That’s news to me.”

“Sorry, sir. I was sent ahead to tell you.”

An unexpected feeling of irritation burned through Linsha. Sir Remmik was coming to the palace. Now. He never came to the palace when Iyesta was alive-only now when she was dead and her lair appeared to be the last large stronghold left. Now, when Linsha thought she had some time to rest and recover before the next attack. Why couldn’t that man stay away from her?

“Thank you for the warning, Sir Hugh,” she snapped.

Snatching up her weapons and helmet, she jumped to her feet and stalked away from the tree.

“Wait a minute,” Mariana called. “Where are you going?”

“I’m an escaped prisoner, remember? If I stay here, Sir Remmik will hang me from the nearest tree.”

“He wouldn’t, would he?” The half-elf turned to the general. “She is with us.”

Sir Hugh watched Linsha cross the hot courtyard and answered for him. “He might try. The commander is very unreasonable about her.”

Mariana shrugged her shirt back over her shoulder. “Huh,” she grunted. “I never thought much of that man before this. Now I’m afraid if I see him I will put a bolt through him. With your permission, sir, I will go back to my company.”

General Dockett frowned. “Eat something first. The company will wait.”