Naomi heard the hooves before she heard her sentries' shouts of alarm – they'd have to work on that, she didn't care how far the sound of chiming traveled. Grabbing her sword and darting out of her tent, she shielded her eyes against the glare and recognized the Herald immediately. Only one Herald had hair that shade of red.

"Herald Griffon!" she called, the Companion switching headings and skidding to a halt in front of her, flanks heaving. "What is it?" she asked immediately, waving her arm over her head to signal the men to start packing. Whatever it was that had this Herald grim with fury-lined despair would require moving out, and quickly.

"Herald Lenora has been captured by Ancar's forces, but a rescue mission has been – "

"Ah! Say no more!" she interrupted, eyes narrowing as she sent her mind ranging over possibilities. No need to say that pursuit had been forbidden, that was standing orders for all forces on the border, ever since they'd received confirmation from Dinesh that Ancar's mages gained power from death in their sphere of influence.

But those orders had never been explicitly given concerning the rescue of a Herald, and conceivably, if they reported things just right, it would be considered too much work to write them up. At the very least, she could shield her men by not letting Griffon say those damning words aloud where they could hear.

All that became academic if they succeeded of course. The worst they could get with a living and breathing Herald pulled out of Hardornen hands would be a slap on the wrist, and while Herald Griffon didn't know how lucky he was, her unit was in a unique position to do the most good.

"Herald Anur is visiting our Karsite allies," she said shortly, "Harevis, can you reach Aelius from here or do we need to get closer? Also, are you capable of tracking Lenora past the border? Can you get us a heading? Companion Glenn, was he slain or is he captured as well?"

"Glenn's trailing, not captured," Griffon reported promptly, "Harevis is reaching – no contact. Have to get closer to the border, our range isn't the best."

"Right. Give us twenty to get packed up and moving. Keep calling for Aelius," she ordered the Companion before turning on her heel and diving into the fray of a packing camp. Twenty minutes was being generous. She'd see if her unit could cut it down to twelve.

Within fifteen minutes everyone was mounted up and starting to move. A quarter of the men were continuing to the permanent barracks, leaving those unmanned was irresponsible in the extreme. The majority of those soldiers were recovering from injuries or otherwise less than fit for a hard-pressed run across hostile territory to save a Herald, but she'd sent some of her officers with them too, just in case.

Anders was with her. The man would never forgive her if she sent him away from this.

"It's a half-day to the border of Karse, full day to the Hardorn-Karse junction," she told Griffon, "Don't enter Hardorn without us, Herald, but head for that junction and we'll catch up. Keep calling for Aelius!"

Joss and his horse took the Herald's place when the Companion bolted, the Healer's face drawn in grim lines as he said, "The odds aren't good, Naomi."

"Fuck the odds!" she snarled back, hooves a too-slow drumbeat in her ears, "Ten years ago, if I'd been told that my best hope for saving a Herald from Hardorn was a Sunsguard unit with a Firestarter I'd have called you mad and busted a rib laughing, and what are we hoping for now? You just be ready to stabilize the woman!"

By the time they reached the junction, Aelius had gotten word to Harevis and they plunged further east with the dawn, running right along the no-longer scorched line in the earth that separated Karse from Hardorn. Naomi was sure she was imagining it, but the air on the Hardornen side felt fouler in her lungs.

By noon, the mad hope she'd have laughed out of the room a decade ago had become reality.

"Anur!" Griffon cried, Harevis pivoting to trot beside a gleaming-white Aelius, the other horses not quite as graceful in the maneuver but performing it just the same. She left the Heralds and Dinesh to their discussion and cut around them to rein in beside Ulrich – wearing an extra uniform of Anders', with her extra trappings of rank.

"Nice uniforms," she said, the other captain snorting and replying dryly, "Karse can't afford to provoke Ancar any further, not right now. Without these uniforms this rescue mission would be a much harder sell. How bad is it?"

"She's still alive, from what Griffon's relayed, her Companion is tracking the party and they only reached the blood-mages just before dawn today."

"We heard that," Ulrich said grimly, "Bellamy's been monitoring her too. Cursed twisted bit of luck, but these seem to be the sort to wring every drop of power by torture, so it's in their best interest to keep her alive."

"Getting them to keep her alive when we come charging in raising hell is another matter all together," she pointed out, letting her eyes skim the now well-mixed group of Karsite and Valdemaran soldiers. They'd run joint drills so each squad knew who their usual partners were, and that seemed to have paid off with this merging going so smoothly. "Language Valdemaran?"

"Have to match the uniforms," Ulrich agreed, rising slightly in his stirrups to call, "Father Kir!"

The Sunpriest – the only one not wearing some Valdemaran uniform, wearing instead his usual robes of office over Sunsguard black – peeled off from the Heraldic duo and his gelding cut through the herd with ease, coming in on Naomi's other side, "Little under a half-day from the border at this pace, still on heading for an interception," the priest reported, "We'll get there just before sunset with some breaks. Aelius and Anur are talking Griffon down from charging in alone to get there faster. Glenn knows we're coming, Lenora does not."

"Can Glenn get us the layout of the camp and surrounding area? Tell us which area Lenora's in?"

"…yes. He needs a few minutes to get into position."

"Mindspeech is so useful," Ulrich muttered, "May it come back into our population quickly."

"You should see what we can pull off with Farsight and Fetching," Naomi informed him with a grin, "Then you'd really be drooling."

With careful breaks they were able to make it to the blood-mage's camp – actually a camp, rather than a taken over town, which made things much easier – just as the sun started to set. No one was willing to wait for whatever additional cover darkness might give them, so Kir and Anur headed out on foot to get closer to the blood-mages' end of camp, Aelius waiting with the rest to signal the captains when they were in position. There could only be so much stealth when wearing uniforms that didn't match and having a plan that amounted to charging in with fire and steel, so a distraction was rather necessary.

The distraction was set for the other end of the camp; distraction, in this case, being a small word for almost two units of well-trained men and women doing their level best to kill anything that moved while various wagons and tents that happened to catch Griffon's eye burst into wild flames. It served its purpose very well. Hardly anyone managed to notice Kir and Anur as they raced through the camp on foot, much less call an alert. By the time they reached the tent Kir had pinpointed as the worst of the blood-magic rot, Lenora's hoarse curses and screams were almost drowned out in the shouts and screams coming from the other end of the encampment.

Only one of the men gathered in front of the tent noticed them and he never got a chance to say a word – fire burst from his skin and he fell, comrades' surprised shouts drowning in a roar of flame as the two of them darted into the tent itself.

"Lenora!" Anur cried, ignoring the fires erupting around him and lunging for her, knifing the Hardornen struggling to his feet in the eye and ripping him off her, Lenora's teeth blood-stained as she grinned at him, "Bellamy?" she managed, "Bout damn time!" before her eyes rolled up in her head and she slumped, awareness fading.

"Shit shit no, Lenora stay here, come on," he hissed, pulling out the knives pinning her hands to the ground, pressing a hand against her head and scrambling for her mental presence even as he tried to get an idea of how badly she was injured.

Her uniform was bloodied and in tatters, only enough fabric left to hint that they were once Whites. Bastards undoubtedly wanted to see proof she was a Herald every time they hurt her, and the wounds he could see were designed to heal slowly and scar. The blood coating her thighs was, to be honest, anticipated, but her feet – they'd been crushed, near every bone broken if the mangled shape was any indicator. Damn and blast.

:Lenora you hear me? Stay with us – we're here, you're out – Joss is here, a Healer, you're going – you're going to live, just keep listening – Griff we've got her get here now!:

A flutter of black-edged crimson distracted him and he caught Kir's robe, wrapping it around Lenora and lifting her too-cursed still form while Kir swore and tore through another mage with a roar of white-hot flame. He stepped over the smoking corpses in his way and walked into the dusk, pounding hooves and screams and roaring flames running together in the hazy light.

Pounding laced with chimes came up and Harevis skidded to a halt by them, four mounted guardsmen close on his heels and circling them immediately, focus outward. Harevis went down on his forelegs so Anur could pass Lenora into Griff's arms, the Companion levering himself up slowly. "Get her to Joss," Anur said grimly, hand on Griff's knee, "And get out of Hardorn. Go!" he barked the last, four horses and one Companion wheeling and plunging off again, Harevis careful to stay between the guards now that he had two Heralds to take care of.

Anur would trust that they'd get Lenora to Joss and his contingent of Valdemaran and Karsite guards. He'd trust that they'd keep going, keep running, until she was safe and away from these witach scum.

His place was here, with Kir.

Killing witches.

***===***pagebreak***===***

Dawn, at last, Kir thought, turning his face to the sunlight and taking a moment to just breathe. After Griffon had signaled the retreat – a specially treated arrow blazing green fire across the sky – the Valdemaran and Karsite soldiers had scattered, each squad responsible for keeping track of their people as they fled for Karse. Kir and Anur had trailed behind, ensuring that any pursuit was burnt to ash. There had been quite a bit of pursuit to burn; even though they'd managed to kill most of the ranking officers and all the blood-mages, the thralls hadn't been freed and followed their last commands. Threads of blood-magic ran thick in this country, thick and pulsing with rot, and Kir had barely been able to ensure there weren't any blood-mages left in the camp, much less distinguish where the holder if their chains was.

The only reason Lumira and Laskaris had been able to free the soldiers moons ago had been their true expertise with coercion spells and the inexpert control exerted by the Nameless Ones they'd faced. He had no such benefits, and they had no way to get any thralls they freed across the border and supported anyway.

It did not make the screams any easier to hear.

:Lenora's made it to barracks, Joss and Griffon are there too,: Aelius reported, tension running out of Anur and he could hear him murmuring thankful prayers. :Long recovery ahead of her, but she's alive, and Glenn says she'll make it.:

:Thank the Sunlord,: Kir murmured back, spreading his awareness of flames ahead of him. For Lenora's party to have made it to barracks by now, they had to be at least near the border.

Another benefit of their Midsummer wards – Karse's border was a beacon to his senses, blazing against Hardorn's taint. The majority of their units were probably already across the border, they had been careful to keep their pace slow and avoid passing anyone. Between the three of them they'd been able to check for anyone falling behind or getting turned around in the night – the moon was quartered and had only risen just after midnight, so the first few marks of flight had been the most worrisome.

His suspicions were confirmed when they neared the border – horses and men half-between Valdemaran and Karsite uniforms were milling about a bare mel from the ward-line, undoubtedly letting their mounts get some rest before heading for the 62nd. When the soldiers caught sight of them a hush fell, Naomi emerging from the crowd with Ulrich on her heels, arm in a sling. "Lenora?" she asked, looking between the two of them, and neither of them bothered to suppress their relieved smiles as they dismounted, Anur saying, "She's at the 62nd, Glenn says she's got a long recovery ahead of her, but she's going to make it."

Grins grew across the captains' faces, whoops and cheers echoing in still morning air as two nations' soldiers congratulated each other on a successful mission, a successful rescue and Kir – he didn't hear the thralls' screaming anymore.

"Odds aren't good my ass!" Naomi cackled, hauling Anur into a backslapping embrace, the Herald echoing her laugh. Ulrich and he exchanged glances and settled for a firm handshake, Kir unable to keep himself from asking lowly, "Losses?"

"You're not going to believe it," the captain said, smile growing and Kir had to brace himself against the other man, whispering with disbelief, "None? There were no losses?"

"Three horses, injuries – some bad enough I might be suggesting discharge, but no truly crippling ones – and not a single death," Ulrich elaborated, a wry gleam in his eye as he said, "They say every commander gets one of these – I never would have expected saving a Herald to have been mine."

Kir laughed ruefully, stepping back from the captain and rolling his eyes when Anur nearly tackled him in a hug, Naomi snickering as she elbowed Ulrich and the captains meandered off, undoubtedly working out how long they needed to linger here. "Lenora's going to live, Kir," Anur whispered, face buried in his shoulder, "She's going to live."

"She is," Kir agreed, letting the silence stand for a time before saying, "So – give it a mark before we race off for the 62nd?"

"Your gelding, your timeline," Anur agreed, pulling back and they both gave Riva a once over. The gelding snorted and pawed at the ground, nudging Kir's chest with his nose. Kir laughed, scratching Riva's ears and muttering, "Ridiculous horse."

:Blasted impossible horse is what he is,: Aelius said with fond exasperation, :Still haven't figured out what is going on with him – I haven't given him extra assistance since our escape from Brook. Once this alliance goes through, we have an appointment with an animal mindspeaker.:

:Really Aelius?:

:I want to know!:

***===***pagebreak***===***

Anur pulled a seat out for Joss, the Healer nodding thanks and dropping into the chair with a tired groan. Naomi patted the man's shoulder and started making a plate of cheese and cold-cuts while Kir filled a mug with water and set his headache blend to brew. The Sun Descending service had been abbreviated by necessity and concluded a mark ago, everyone scattering to rest. It had been a long few days, and the Valdemarans had only more long days to look forward to.

They'd managed to find cots for almost everyone, but Janner and Joss had taken to rotating out who was with Lenora once the most critical of her injuries had been treated so one of them was mostly alert. This was the end of Joss' second shift with her, and once they poured some food and tea down his throat the man was going to go back to the infirmary and collapse on his assigned cot.

But before that, there were some details to work out.

"Right. So, the Companions have kept this from the others – range gives an excuse, but that's not going to hold for long," Anur reported, taking a swig of his spiked tea and grimacing.

"We're still keeping everything under wraps until next Midsummer?" Joss checked, the others in the sacristy nodding. Somehow it had become their standard meeting place for this consipiracy, at least when Ulrich's office was too small. With the crowd that had assembled here after the service, Ulrich's office would have been full to bursting. Now it was more comfortable, with only four of them here – Ulrich and Greich had gone to their own beds after a mug of tea.

"I told Herald Griffon you were visiting our Karsite allies, and since you stripped the disguise off Aelius and wore your whites, that should hold just fine – the only thing I'd be worried about is Griffon wondering at how easily our men worked together," Naomi said, nudging Joss' shin and passing him the plate of food, ignoring the healer's disgruntled mutters that he wasn't hungry.

"Joint raids and scouting runs would be within the scope of our original agreement," Kir reminded them, "All we really need to ensure is that Anur isn't called back to a post where he'll have to report regularly. We'll be in the 62nd six weeks out of eight, but those are going to shift as things come up here."

"And we'll have to deal with the fact we went against orders," Joss reminded the captain, Naomi sighing before nodding in agreement. Kir shot Anur a surprised look and the Herald grimaced, glancing away briefly before meeting Kir's eyes again and explaining.

"After you explained how blood-mages gain power, a priority has been in keeping people out of Hardorn – we can't tell where blood-mages can draw power from death, so the idea is to avoid giving them more power by sending people across the border as little as possible. Captured soldiers… after the first few, we realized that we were losing too many people, giving them too much strength, for rescues to be feasible. Now – now that it's somewhat common knowledge what those mages will do to you – everyone keeps a knife on them. You don't want to wake up to that."

Kir's exhale was a hiss between his teeth, Naomi nodding at his sharp look and confirming it, saying, "Standing orders are to never cross the border of Hardorn outside of an engagement, and even then to retreat across the border as soon as possible. We don't know what keeps their magecraft from working so well on our side of the border, but we'll damn well take advantage. Captured soldiers are understood to be on their own. It doesn't happen often, Ancar's forces don't make capture a priority, so there haven't been many who ran up against those orders."

"So when Griffon went to you…"

"He wasn't asking us for anything," Naomi refuted, "He was simply relaying what happened to Herald Lenora, a known ally, and seeking counsel with Herald Anur, his comrade and a friend of Lenora's."

"He's not going to let you take the fall for this," Anur said quietly, "And I won't either."

"You lot were already on your way," Naomi said sharply, "Just how do you plan to cover for me at all?"

"We were already on our way, like you said," Anur shrugged, spreading his hands, "As I wasn't in barracks when Griffon came by, you escorted him to the border so Harevis could communicate the news to me, and after you heard that we were already on our way to rescue her, Griffon took off, you simply followed."

"No," Joss grumbled, "No one will buy that – hearing that you were already there and having that prompt her into breaking orders, rather than planning it from the moment Griffon rode in – "

"I sent some men back to the barracks immediately, that won't hold up – "

"Do you need me here?" Kir murmured, Anur raising an eyebrow at him before giving a tired smile, "No, it's our story. Going to check on Griffon?"

"Someone needs to," he said dryly, "He by the infirmary?"

"Sitting outside the infirmary, Harevis says," Anur relayed, refocusing on Naomi and Joss' conversation in time to add another detail they'd have to work into the report. Resting a hand on Anur's shoulder for a moment, Kir gathered another mug of tea and left the three Valdemarans to it. If Anur needed him, he would call, but listening to the three of them plan out just how to spin their report – for their sake, for Karse's sake – it wasn't something he could contribute to. Besides, like he'd said, someone had to see to Griffon.

Griffon was indeed sitting on one of the benches outside the infirmary, staring up at the stars. Someone had given him a spare Sunsguard uniform that was a little big on him, but at least he wasn't glowing in the moonlight. Glenn was glowing enough for both of them, lurking by the window closest to Lenora's bed. "Tea?" he offered, holding out the steaming mug. It was chamomile – hopefully enough to help Griffon sleep without actively drugging him.

"Thanks, Father Kir," the Herald murmured, taking the mug with a weary smile. Kir raised an eyebrow as he sat on next to him, saying dryly, "I thought we agreed that after nearly killing each other in a firestorm we were on a first name basis."

"I think I have a bit more faith in your abilities than you're suggesting," Griffon chuckled, "But point. Thank you, Kir."

"Hmm. Not faith in your own?" Kir took a sip of his tea, raising an eyebrow, "You are a powerful Firestarter, Griffon, and your control has improved immensely since we last spoke."

"You can tell?" the Herald said, startled, and Kir shrugged before explaining.

"You set some fires during the raid, and I didn't feel an overbearing pressure as fire was forcibly summoned into the world. When I first worked with you I could feel how much effort you were putting into calling your flames. I don't think I would ever call you subtle, but you are much better."

"It's Firestarting," Griffon said dryly, "I don't think subtle is ever in the cards."

Kir let the man see his sly smile and Griffon barked a laugh, shaking his head as he took another sip, voice rueful as he said, "I'm not even surprised. Of course you've figured out a way to make fire subtle."

The firestarters sat in silence, enjoying the cool night air. Kir tilted his head back to rest against the building, letting his eyes drift across the constellations. The Firebird was just visible over the peaks of the barracks roofs, brightest star in the night sky its eye. It was his favorite constellation – his brother had told a hundred and one stories of how a firebird reached the sky, of just what a firebird was, of what one looked like, of where they lived…

"Copper for your thoughts," Griffon murmured, elbows braced against his knees and head bowed.

"That constellation – brightest star in the sky, for us it's the eye of the Firebird. Anur says it's the heart of the Grove-Born in Valdemar?" Kir replied, sidestepping the less easily explained memories that had run through his mind.

"Where are the wings?" Griffon asked.

Kir cut the man a glance; his head was still bowed, describing the constellation would do no good at all. "I don't know that it matters. Copper for your thoughts Griffon. They seem to be weighing on you."

"I laughed at you," Griffon said after a few long moments of silence, voice so soft Kir could barely hear him. "When you said Ancar would keep coming, that he wouldn't care if fields rotted, if people starved – he would just keep coming. I couldn't believe you, that anyone could be that – could be that terrible, that evil, and I laughed and – I was wrong, I was so wrong."

"Unfortunately," Kir murmured, resting a hand between the Herald's shoulder-blades, "Unfortunately, I was right. Had you been correct – I would have been so very happy."

Griffon took a shuddering breath and looked up at last, eyes locking on his.

"Tell me of blood-mages."