«It's going to be the woodcutters' and the weavers' victory,» said Daimarz's father, Yishpan. Although he'd worked himself to exhaustion trying to get the rest of the Elstani to the battle in time, he didn't sound exactly unhappy about this. «The rest can-«

«Pick up the dead rolghas before they poison the river,» said Daimarz sourly. «That's all they're good for.»

They walked through the camp to the tent where Efroin lay. He'd cut his throat, and Blade was glad that he'd had the strength to do this at the last. It had spared him the lingering agony of a belly wound, or some equally harsh fate at the hands of the Estani.

That reminded Blade of a pressing question. «We've got close to five thousand prisoners here. We'd better decide what to do about them, before the refugees start cutting their throats.»

«I'd say let them,» growled Daimarz. «You can be sure that a dead Jaghd won't be coming through the forest again next year. Besides, we'd have to feed them.»

Yishpan shook his head. «That would make the Jaghdi on the Adrim desperate. If they thought we'd give them their lives, they might yield without a fight and more loss of life. Let's hold our prisoners and promise to release them if Queen Tressana gives herself up to us.»

Blade wasn't the only person staring at the Master Woodcutter. Yishpan stared back. «Why not? She is evil but not yet mad, and has much courage. If we ask her to be an honorable chief and die for those who follow her-«

«I suppose you could do that,» said Daimarz. «But I warn you, Father, I'm taking the best hundred men I can and go after the bitch queen myself. If I don't come back with her head, you can do as you see fit.»

«Daimarz-«began his father, but Blade interrupted.

«Daimarz, I'll come with you. You may need someone who can talk to the Jaghdi. You'll certainly need someone who knows their ways better than you do.»

«True.» He gripped Blade's hand. «We leave as soon as we've got the men and supplies. I think we'd better take some captured amulets too. If we have to follow her into the forest, we'll be ready to do it.»

«And you'll take Blade away from Chaia for the gods know how long!» snapped Haima. «Was that your purpose in suggesting this?» She was splattered with other people's blood and looked like some demonic goddess of war. Right now she also looked angry enough to draw her sword on the woodcutter.

Blade knew he had to play peacemaker. «Haima, I can't do much here, even to help with the prisoners. I can do much more with Daimarz. He and Yishpan are both right. We've won a battle, but Tressana is the key to winning the war. We can't leave anything undone to strike at her. Nothing would make me happier than to stay here and begin giving Chaia your grandchildren, but do you want me to desert my post while I'm still needed?»

Haima sighed. «Blade, I wish I knew how much of that is the truth. But you are right about my asking you to desert. As I value my own honor, I cannot ask you to give up yours.» She kissed him lightly and walked away, her shoulders sagging.

Blade really wished he did have nothing to do but guard prisoners and find ways of not sleeping with Chaia. Unfortunately he had to stay with Daimarz and try to keep him from throwing his life away to kill Tressana. He also had to try to save the queen herself, if he could. Her death would still mean chaos in Jaghd, probably even worse now that so many leaders were dead or captured. He hoped he could find a way to save Tressana without defying the Elstani, but the chances were slim. Without joining Daimarz, they didn't exist.

«All right, Daimarz. I think we'll need some refugees as guides, as well as your woodcutters. Most of the prisoners we've released aren't in shape for any more fighting.»

«I agree with you about the refugees, but how do we choose them? They'll be killing each other for a chance at Tressana.»

«Pick out the two or three hundred strongest, then draw lots.»

«That could work. We'll want everyone in Jaghdi clothing, but with our own weapons. Then…» They sat down on a leather blanket in front of a nearby tent and began planning.

Chapter 22

Tressana found her legs shaking as she slipped from her rolgha's back to the rocky ground. She cursed her own weakness. She shouldn't be so tired, not when she was riding all day. She had to set a good example for the rest of her people, and put courage back into the Jaghdi fugitives who had returned from the disaster in the Kettle of the Winds. Some of them had walked for five days, managing to get through the ranks of Elstani that had been stationed to the northwest of the camp.

Unfortunately her legs wouldn't obey her. She had to grip the stirrups for a moment to keep from falling. Then Jollya was there-Jollya, so good and reliable even if she was her father's daughter. Jollya was helping her away from the rolgha, so gently that no one could see the queen's weakness. By the time the queen's tent was up, Tressana could walk into it herself, even though she lay down the moment she was out of sight.

She must have slept, because the next thing she knew it was no longer twilight but night. A cold rain was falling, and the wind made the tent ripple and crackle. Jollya was there again. She had soup and wine on a tray, and Tressana discovered that she was finally hungry.

«Your Grace,» said Jollya when the queen was finished. «How much farther east do we want to go?»

«As far as we need to,» said Tressana shortly. She'd thought that question was settled, although she hadn't reached the point of saying «You will obey!» to Jollya or Sikkurad.

«Haven't we done all that can be done to help our people escape?»

«Perhaps. But we haven't done all we can do against the Elstani. If we can mount the fugitives… Why do you think we're herding all the rolghas with us?»

«Your Grace, our fugitives are dying on their feet! The only reason they aren't actually dying is because they're eating the dead rolghas! How long-?»

«As long as it takes us to avenge our dead and kill Richard Blade.»

«Him again.»

«Jollya!» Tressana's voice cracked like a whip. «Did you love him too?»

Jollya jumped up, looking startled. «Yes. I loved him, and I don't want him dead.»

«You filthy little-!»

«I'm not throwing away the lives of men who follow me to take an impossible vengeance. Your Grace, I beg you. You're trying loyalty beyond what it can bear. Let's go home and-«

Jollya had her mouth open when Tressana hit her in the stomach. it stayed open as Tressana picked up a spear and smashed her across the back of the neck with it. Then it closed and she crumpled forward, to lie face down on the furs.

Tressana stood over the fallen woman, holding the spear and afraid for a moment that she was going to vomit from sheer rage and disgust. Blade had betrayed her even before he fled to Elstan and taught those-those- She couldn't find a word. Before he taught those people to fly and destroyed her army. He'd betrayed her with Jollya, which made it even worse. And how much treason had he been planning even while he was in her bed?

Tressana felt as if her head was going to split apart. She pressed her hands against her temples and screamed out loud. That released some of the pressure, but it also brought the other guardswomen on the run. They stopped at the door of the tent, staring down at Jollya. With a terrible effort Tressana forced out coherent words.

«Jollya tried to kill me. I had to strike her down. Tell Siharma she's captain of the Women's Guard now and bring her to me. Bind Jollya and take her to the treasure tent.»

«Yes, Your Grace.»

With the aid of a hand on the tent pole, Tressana stayed on her feet until she'd given Siharma her orders and Jollya had been taken out. Then she had to sit down.