Strider's hands had nearly stopped shaking by the time she rode up to the sentries posted at the entrance to the encampment.
"State your business," the one on the left called as Strider reined in her horse.
Strider was downhill from the sentries and found she had to look up into the sun in order to see them. The sun glinted off the round helms they wore on their heads. They each carried a halberd staff and had a sword at their hip. Strider noticed they were wearing the plain standard of Redmont, but that their tunics were an unusual color.
"I'm here to see Sir Rodney," Strider said.
"About what?"
"About business."
The sentries exchanged a glance, then the second shrugged and replied. "Business about what?"
"Business about how all the guards in Araluen are useless," Strider muttered under her breath. She sighed, then raised her voice. "I have an important message to give him."
"What's the message?"
"Come over here and I'll tell you," Strider said.
"Who did you say you were again?"
"Strider, Deputy for the Shadows."
"For the who?"
Strider rolled her eyes and nudged her horse forward. The sentries startled, then the first stepped into the pathway to block Strider. He raised his halberd and stood firmly in Strider's way.
"Stop! No further!"
The sun was no longer in her eyes now that she had moved forward, she could see the guard in front of her was woefully young. She guessed he was likely no more than an apprentice.
"No further or what?"
"What?"
Strider fought the urge to spur Whiplash forward and trample the poor fellow in front of her. She didn't have time for this, she thought to herself. "What will you do to me if I don't stop?"
"We'll have to arrest you," the second sentry called.
"And take me where?"
"To Sir Rodney, who'll decide what to do with you."
Strider opened her mouth to respond, then shrugged and swung down from her horse. She took another step forward and held out the reins to the sentry brandishing the halberd.
"Arrest me."
The sentry opened his mouth and closed it again, struggling to find a response to this unexpected development. "You haven't done anything wrong yet."
"Oh for the love of—" Strider grabbed hold of the halberd in the apprentice's hand and gave it a violent jerk to free it from his grip. She gripped the weapon with both hands and advanced on the startled sentry, slamming the weapon into his chest and knocking him to the dirt.
"How about now?" She asked as she tossed the weapon at the sentry's feet. "Or should I hit you again?"
Halt led Fell and Gilan back to the encampment at a breakneck pace. They thundered up to the entrance, slowing as they passed the sentries and entered the camp. They headed straight for Rodney's tent, where a cluster of guards was stationed at the entrance.
"What's going on?" The Ranger asked. There were three guards speaking, two of which wore tunics marking them as apprentices. The third was an older man who looked to be in his thirties who wore the typical Redmont colored tunic of a sergeant at arms. Halt looked to the sergeant at arms to explain.
"Just sorting out what seems to be a mix-up, Ranger," the sergeant said with a sigh. "The sentries here were attacked by an intruder trying to enter the camp. We managed to subdue the intruder, and now they're swearing they have important information on the Cult."
"Where's the intruder?" Halt asked.
"She's inside, with Sir Rodney," the sergeant said as he waved the three of them towards the tent. Halt, Fell and Gilan exchanged looks before heading into the tent.
Sir Rodney was seated at the table, and standing before him was Strider, two guards flanking her on either side. They'd bound her hands with strips of rawhide and stripped her of any weapons before bringing her to the Battlemaster. They'd placed her knives on Rodney's table between them.
"Just the men I needed to see," the Battlemaster said as the Rangers and Fell entered. "Perhaps you could shed some light on this." Rodney gestured towards Strider, who raised her bound hands and waved at the men. Fell met her eyes, a question on his face. What the hell?
"We don't have time for this," Strider said, her temper beginning to flare. She pushed it aside, pressing it down.
"You attacked a sentry," Rodney said. "We'll have to make time for it."
"Attacked?" Fell asked, his brows raising.
"Attacked is a strong word," Strider said. "I knocked the whelp down when he made it clear he wouldn't let me pass. I spent the better part of the afternoon evading the Cult that're crawling through the Redmont forest to get here, and your damned sentries were wasting my time."
"The Cult are here in the forest?" Rodney asked in surprise.
"They are," Halt said. "We found tracks from a recent crossing further upriver. It looks like they've been amassing troops on this side for the past few days."
A less seasoned warrior would have been shocked or even mortified to hear this, but Rodney simply took the information and immediately began to think his way towards a solution. "How many are there?"
"At least two dozen according to the tracks," Gilan said. "About a third are mounted."
"Sounds about right. They're fanned out through the woods in small clusters and are planning to move in and back your forces against the Tarbus," Strider said.
"How do you know this?" Halt asked.
"I eavesdropped," Strider said. "They said it'll be sometime tonight, but I can't say what that means exactly. Could be right after sundown, could be right before sunup."
Rodney gestured towards the two guards who'd been standing on either side of Strider, "Round up the sergeants and have them report immediately." They saluted before hurrying from the tent to carry out the order.
"Can we fight them?" Halt asked.
Rodney shook his head, his brow furrowed in thought. "We're about matched for numbers, but a portion of the men stationed here are apprentices, not fully trained warriors."
"You'll have the element of surprise," Strider said. "They think they're going to catch you by surprise, but now you know they're coming."
"We haven't a lot of time to prepare," Halt said. "Gilan or I will ride to Redmont and bring back reinforcements. We know the forest best and can get there and back the quickest."
"We can buy you more time," Fell said. It was the first time he had spoken since they'd begun discussing the impending attack, and all eyes turned to him.
"How?" Rodney asked.
"By doing what we're good at," Fell said with a nod towards Strider. There was no need to explain exactly what the Shadows were "good at." The Battlemaster had heard enough stories to know the Shadows were experts at fighting in the night, at ambushing their enemies and killing them before they had a chance to fight back. He wasn't particularly a fan of such dishonorable fighting, but he had to admit they needed all the time they could get to prepare for the attack. It couldn't hurt if the Cult's numbers were culled in the process, even if Rodney didn't like the way in which it was done.
"How much time can you buy us?" Rodney asked.
"How much do you need?" Fell asked.
"Four hours at the least, but six or seven would be ideal," the Battlemaster said. "Can you handle that?"
"Easily," Fell said. "Lend us a Ranger, and we'll give you eight."
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