Keladry of Mindelan stood on the rampart of the small, fortified town of New Hope. The last Scanran attack had been just a few hours ago. Miraculously, no one had been killed, although she had managed to get hit by a stray arrow. She rubbed her bandaged, aching right shoulder with her left hand. Maybe I should go find Neal, she thought.
Her best friend Nealan of Queenscove was a knight like she was, and had earned his shield the same Midwinter she had, for all that he was five years older than her.
Kel turned and descended from the north wall, heading for the infirmary. As if her thoughts had summoned him, Neal came running out, looking as white as if he had exhausted himself healing yet again. He was also heading straight for her.
"Meathead--", she began, using the much-hated nickname his cousin Domitan of Masbolle had given him. She was planning on scolding him for draining himelf again, but he cut her off.
"Kel, Master Numair just bespoke me from Northwatch. General Vanget was just taken out by a Scanran assassin. A Scanran army was waiting to attack when there was no commander. They're being overrrun."
