-a/n- Wonderful readers! Your reviews have had me writing obsessively in all the free time I've had (which admittedly hasn't been much, but just enough to churn out the next installment of Kel's escapades.)

They had been planning to visit Lord Wyldon at Mastiff for some time, so when the courier arrived with news of an attack on Greenwoods, Raoul summoned two squads from Third Company and was on the road within quarter of an hour. They rode hard, in silence. Icy fear clutched at Kel's heart; the faces of Neal, Merric, Seaver, Douglass and all those that she'd trained swimming before her eyes. Raoul was tight-lipped, his face set in a half-frown and Kel knew that he worried for his ex-squire and friend, Douglass.

When they reached the towering log palisade of Mastiff they were hurried inside. Lord Wyldon and his companies were still out riding, there'd been no news.

Late in the afternoon the companies returned, grim-faced and bearing wounded men on stretchers slung between horses. Kel almost cried out in relief when she saw Neal, and flung herself towards him. She was quickly followed by a white-faced Dom, who grasped his cousin's arm tightly, his eyes saying what his constricted throat could not.

Neal's emerald eyes were red-rimmed from crying, and his face was pale from over-exertion of his gift.

'We were at Mastiff,' he said. 'Sir Douglass, my father and I. We should've been there.'

Kel looked around; she could see the red-head of Merric being hurried away to the infirmary.

'So few,' she muttered, horrified. 'Is everyone-' she couldn't finish the sentence.

'Gone,' said Neal dully, rubbing his eyes furiously. 'Only sixty odd bodies in the whole place. They've carried them off, children and old alike.'

She left Dom consoling Neal and slipped back in next to Raoul who was talking with Lord Wyldon.

'It's got to be a diversion,' argued the commander of Mastiff.

'Our information says that the attack isn't scheduled until next week,' argued Raoul.

'What of the refugees?' asked Kel. 'Have we picked up their trail?'

Raoul looked pointedly at Wyldon.

'We can't risk it, we just can't. To be caught on the open road by Scanrans would be death to us all. We've no way of knowing that this isn't an elaborate trap. And without warriors to defend it this border will crumble and thousands more lives will be at Maggur's mercy.'

They weren't going after the refugees. This fact sank into Kel's understanding. They were going to let Maggur and Blayce make slaves, or worse killing devices of five hundred of the people Kel had helped train, whom Tortall had failed to protect.

'-they'll be nearly in Scanra by now.' Wyldon was defending his actions.

Kel felt sick. Not only was the loss of five hundred innocents horrifying, but the thought of five hundred killing devices on the border was terrifying.

She could hear the defeat in Wyldon's voice. She remembered her promise to Alex that the Tortallan border must be held at all costs.

And suddenly what she must do lay before her, so crystal clear that Kel thought she might stagger under the weight of the revelation. The refugees had to be rescued, and she Kel, with her knowledge of Scanra could be the only one to do it. Raoul and Wyldon had men under their command, forts they'd sworn to protect. She had no such obligation. She could return as many refugees as possible back to Tortall, follow the rest until they led her straight to Blayce. If she could get word to Alex...They could finish Blayce for good, improving Tortall's chances in the battles to come.

Then she caught sight of Raoul's familiar, ruddy face and she felt her heart tighten. Running off to Scanra would betray the man who knew her better than her own father. And then there was Dom, the man to whom she'd given her heart and soul in a completely different way.

All afternoon Kel struggled with the choice she had to make. In the end it came down to the bigger picture. The lives of five hundred refugees and countless other Tortallan soldiers were at stake. If there was anything worth committing treason, betraying loved ones and ruining her name for, then this was surely it.

Kel packed quickly for her journey, filling a single saddle bag with a spare shirt, water gourd, firelighter and spyglass. She would pack lightly to speed her journey. She set aside her mail shirt, helmet and wrist guards, discarding her bulkier armour. Her recurve bow and a dozen arrows would also be important.

At dinner that night Kel ate particularly well, knowing that she might have to survive for several weeks on whatever she could hunt or scavenge.

Avoiding Dom and Raoul, who she simply couldn't face, Kel slipped away muttering to her fellow diners that she was tired. She stashed her bag and bow under the straw in Prince's stable before hurrying back to her room and dressing in sensible breeches and an undyed shirt. She folded her Goldenlake tunics, fighting back tears; she wouldn't be needing those ever again. To her waist was strapped a solid belt with a full purse, dagger and both her swords. She then climbed into bed, to wait.

When she was sure that Raoul had gone to bed, she got up and silently pulled on her mail, wrist guards and helmet. Kel left the room without a backwards glance. On her silent journey through Mastiff her heart beat a frantic rhythm against her chest, convinced that any moment someone would question what she was doing. Kel held her breath, sucking her chest in so that she looked more manly, hoping that at a distance she would look like a guard just coming back from watch duty.

She saddled Prince in a matter of minutes and then, her mouth dry, led him to the door concealed in the far corner of the stables. This was Daine's secret exit for the animals of the fort. The tunnel was dark and damp, but Prince didn't falter until they emerged in the forest. When Kel looked back she could not see where they had come from. Shuddering at magics she couldn't understand, Kel mounted up. She peered up through the trees at the stars high above her, thankful that it was a clear night. Her bearings set, she kicked Prince into a canter. If they rode hard she could find the Vassa smugglers by morning.

Raoul, who had picked up on his squire's aloofness the previous evening, made his way down to the practice courts early, thinking it was likely he'd find a slender figure practising blocks and sweeps with her usual intensity.

To his surprise the court was empty apart from four dark-haired men lazily running through drills with each other. Raoul raised a hand to acknowledge Wyldon as he jogged past on his usual morning run. Silence reigned over the still fort.

He ate breakfast with Douglass who looked awful, like he hadn't slept at all. Raoul then returned to his guest room to finish the Midsummers report he was working on. By the time the ninth bell rang he was slightly concerned at the notable absence of his squire. Finishing a sentence that recommended increased use of polearms now that the Scanrans had effective shield formations, he got up and walked down the corridor to Kel's room, rapping sharply on the door.

'Kel?' No reply came.

He pushed open the door and glanced around the room. Puzzled, for she was not there, Raoul was about to shut the door when he noticed something that looked rather odd in her impeccably tidy room; two forest green tunics folded and laid on the top of the tiny desk. As the knight stepped closer he could see a scrap of paper perched on top. Callused fingers picked up the paper.

Two words were scrawled on top: 'I'm sorry.' Feeling like the bottom had dropped out of his stomach he turned over the paper, frantically searching for an explanation. Four more words were squeezed onto the paper, but they were Scanran. He recognised the word for 'I' and 'they' or 'their' but not the other two.

Raoul rushed from the room, almost knocking Squire Owen flying at the bottom of the stairs. 'Have you seen Kel today?' he asked, trying to ignore the rising panic in his chest.

When the squire shook his head Raoul dashed to the stables, praying that when he got there he wouldn't find what he most feared. He skidded to a halt outside Prince's empty stable. Fear, hurt and confusion threatened to overwhelm him. 'Oh Kel,' he muttered, 'What have you done?'

Barging into Lord Wyldon's office five minutes later, and slamming the door behind him Raoul announced despairingly, 'Kel's gone.'

'What do you mean, gone?' replied Wyldon sharply, eyebrows raised.

'I mean she's taken that huge horse of hers and gone.'

Mastiff's commander stared. Raoul handed him the piece of paper still clutched in his fist.

'Can you read that?' he asked.

'I'm their only hope.' Lord Wyldon translated slowly.

'Great Gods above,' Raoul whispered. 'She's gone after the refugees.'

Kel was having a very trying morning. She'd reached the Vassa as the sun rose but found herself still too far West. Not only was she tired from the ride, but keeping up a constant state of alertness was making her jumpy. A Tortallan patrol and she'd be hauled back, a story that ended on Traitor's hill. If she ran into Scanran forces she'd be chopped to pieces. She was also fighting back tears at the thought of Raoul and Dom who might have now discovered her betrayal, Neal's expression when he discovered his friend had run off again, Lord Wyldon's disappointment, the scorn of Third company whom she so admired.

She must keep her thoughts on the road ahead, looking back would make it too difficult to continue one with this crazy quest. For the first time in years she was free to follow the path she chose and she must make it a path to Scanra, back to Alex.

The undergrowth was thick and the track hidden, so Kel dismounted to search for signs of foot or hoof prints. Eventually she found what she was looking for; a game trail that lead up to the high ground above the Vassa. She followed the tree-covered bluff until it wound it's way down into a wide clearing. Here were the Scanran-style houses that she remembered. Smoke rose gently from a chimney and Kel breathed a sigh of relief.

Wearily patting her tired mount, they started forward towards the wooden palisade surrounding the smugglers' village. Before she could reach the gates three Scanran-looking villagers armed with cross bows came out.

'Peace,' called out Kel in Common. She held up her hands to show that she wasn't armed. 'I seek passage across the Vassa.'

'Why do you think you'll find it here?' demanded a short man.

'I've crossed here before, with a fellow called...Jeike, I think.'

'Are you one of the Whisper man's?' asked one woman, lowering her weapon at the mention of Jeike.

'Indirectly yes,' yawned Kel, dismounting and wincing at her stiff legs.

The other two lowered there weapons and Kel went to greet the smugglers, shaking their hands.

'Now that I think about it, I remember this horse here. Mighty fine beast. It was quite a while ago though, ye were a lot younger.'

Kel nodded. 'It's been five years.'

'Well you picked a fine time to return,' said the woman sarcastically. 'What with the war the way it is.'

'Have you seen a big party crossing?' asked Kel interestedly.

'Pah, we don't get involved,' one smuggler spat on the ground. 'Best left well alone. Our crossing is secluded at both sides. It keeps us safe from being discovered; armies like wider, open areas to cross.'

'See to your poor horse, there'll doubtless be a stable free. You won't be crossing anywhere till moonrise.'

'Can you not get me across any sooner?' asked Kel desperately.

'Not our way of doing things. We've agreements to be kept.'

Yawning, Kel didn't press the matter; she could do with a sleep before entering the hostile country.

Owen, who eavesdropped diligently almost cried out in shock when he heard what Kel had done. Although he'd never been a page with Kel, he counted her as one of his closest friends. They'd both been fighting up on the border for longer than the others and he felt that Kel took him seriously, understood him in a way that his other friends sometimes didn't, fobbing him off as something akin to a younger brother.

Despite frequently listening in on Lord Wyldon's discussions from behind the thin wall that separated Owen's room from the office, he kept his mouth shut on what he heard. Now however, Owen hurried away to find the one person who deserved to know that Kel had left again.

Owen burst into Neal's room.

'Kel's gone,' he announced to the startled knight. 'She's gone to rescue the refugees.'

'What?' snapped Neal, dropping the book he was reading.

'She left during the night,' said Owen breathlessly, 'I heard Lord Raoul telling my lord.'

'She's gone after the refugees,' Neal repeated slowly, incredulously. 'Is she mad?'

'She cares about the commoners,' replied Owen. 'She's seen the effects this wars had on them.'

'I know, I know,' said Neal miserably, 'But to go haring off alone...'

Owen swallowed. 'She shouldn't be alone.' He met Neal's bright green eyes.

'You'll be breaking Lord Wyldon's faith,' pointed out the healer.

'I know,' said Owen, looking downcast.

'We'll both be traitors to the crown.'

'Yes we will,' sighed Owen, almost apologetically. 'But Kel needs us.'

'She does,' said Neal. 'And I'm not letting her run off again.'

'Will the others help?'

Neal nodded. 'We were charged with protecting those commoners. It's only right that we help to retrieve them.'

They hurriedly made plans, deciding that the longer they waited, the nearer Kel drew to danger. Owen, like Kel, knew about the secret escape passage in the warhorses stables.

'If we can assemble in there, one by one so as not to draw attention to us leaving, we'd be able to get out of the fort. A bit of hard riding and praying not to get caught should do the trick.'

Neal went to find Merric and Seaver, feeling sure that they would join in the quest; he knew how guilty they felt about failing their people. Some of their other friends were stationed at Mastiff, including Esmond and Faleron. Neither knight was particularly close to Kel and Neal didn't want to risk them exposing the plan to one of the commanders. A similar fear prevented Neal from approaching Douglass about aiding the rescue mission, although he was sure that the Knight would do almost anything to save the refugees.

He did approach the six surviving convict soldiers, all of whom agreed they'd help. Feeling pleased that they now had a force of ten ready to ride to Kel's aid, he set about preparing himself for the ride.

Neal wasn't the only one busy plotting. As soon as Raoul had left Lord Wyldon's office he'd signalled for Dom to gather his squad. Meeting in a hayloft above the warhorses stables he asked for volunteers to go after Kel. Even though he warned them that the mission would take them into the enemy's territory, right into Scanra itself, every single man volunteered.

Seeing the fear in Dom's eyes when he broke the news about Kel's disappearance, Raoul worried briefly if he'd picked the right squad. They certainly knew refugees the best, having been posted at Greenwoods with Kel. Dom was also one of the most talented leaders in the Own, if any squad had the chance of making it home alive it was his squad. Although they were down to eight men, they were keen to follow after Kel.

He handed them a map, a purse of gold and a piece of paper with an official seal. 'Ride east along the Giantkiller road. If anyone questions you, show them that,' he gestured at the paper. 'Try and pick up the refugees trail, though you might not find her until you're in Scanra. Ride hard,' he advised, 'I'd rather you were re-united as quickly as possible.'

He turned to Dom. 'Once you find her, take your orders from Kel. I trust her judgement.'

'Yes sir.'

Dom was the first man to climb down from the loft, and as he did so, he distinctly saw a door in the floor of the stable bang shut. As his men spilled out of the loft and into their horses stables, he made his way over to where he'd seen the trap door. He ran his hands along the floor and prised up a wooden flap. Cautiously he peered down the sloping floor and saw at the bottom, none other than his cousin, Neal.

Several things clicked in Dom's head at once.

'Give us five minutes boys,' said Dom cheerily, spotting several other faces besides Neal's, 'And we'll be right down to join you.'

The tunnel was very crowded by the time the full party had assembled. The convict soldiers had helpfully invited Sergeant Connac's squad along, so that by the time they left the tunnel they numbered twenty eight. As Raoul had advised they rode hard. No one needed much persuading, the fear of discovery hastening their flight. They rode all day, sweat trickling down flushed cheeks. It was early evening by the time they found themselves at the Vassa, staring across at the abandoned flat-bottomed boats on the other side.

'Now what?' Demanded Merric, who was still exhausted from the healing he'd had the previous day.

'We've no idea if Kel's crossed the Vassa or not,' mused Seaver.

'I say we cross and pick up the trail on the other side, we're bound to run into her,' said Owen confidently, still cheerful despite the hard ride.

'And how do you propose we cross the river?' retorted Merric.

They surveyed the fast-flowing waters.

'It's going to be too cold to even swim across and fetch those boats,' sighed Dom.

'It's too deep for the horses to swim certainly,' said Sergeant Connac.

'I know a way,' said Neal, frowning slightly. 'It's not precisely legal, but if I can remember where it is...' He kicked his horse into a brisk trot, glancing all around to get his bearings. 'Hurry,' he called over his shoulder, 'I'll never find it in the dark.'

Kel was enjoying a hot beef stew. After years of army rations, the rich, salty flavouring was something to be savoured. There was an increase in the hubbub of chatter. Looking casually round she dropped her spoon in shock.

'Oh no, no, no.' she muttered. There was no point even trying to hide; she had to cross the Vassa tonight. Kel got up, setting aside the stew she'd been enjoying and started towards them. Wolset was the first to spot her. He nudged Dom, who looked up, an expression of utter relief on his face.

Dom broke away from the group and half ran towards Kel. Without pausing to even speak, he had gathered Kel to him and was kissing her fervently. For as long as the moment lasted Kel didn't care that they were in front of a room full of people, in front of her year-mates, Dom's squad and whoever else had been crazy enough to follow her, it was just she and Dom that mattered. When they broke apart, Dom said in a strangled voice; 'Don't ever scare me like that again.'

Kel looked away from his eyes, not going to make a promise she wasn't sure she could keep.

'I have to go after them-' she began.

Dom touched a large, rough finger to her lips. 'We're not here to stop you. Raoul sent us to help. Well, he sent my boys, Neal and the others tagged along.'

Kel groaned, 'I never wanted them to commit treason too.'

'Hello Squire Kel,' said Corporal Fulcher. 'Fancy seeing you here.' Several other men greeted her cheerfully, then smirked at Dom who still had one arm firmly around Kel.

Neal and the older man he'd been conversing with, joined the group surrounding Kel.

'Moon'll be up soon,' grunted the older man. 'We'll take you across then. Gonna need several trips though.' He left them.

'Do you even know how many laws you're breaking?' Kel scowled. 'You'll lose your jobs, your shields, maybe even your life. You took oaths to the Crown, and you-' she pointed at Owen, 'You're breaking yours to Lord Wyldon. Go back all of you, you don't want to get mixed up in...' she trailed off.

'Mixed up in what?' replied Neal, arching his slanted brows.

'Mixed up in this attempt at a rescue,' Kel covered quickly.

'You can't possibly think that you can rescue them all single-handed?' said Merric incredulously.

'No,' replied Kel, frustrated, 'But you're needed at Mastiff, all of you. What of the twenty companies rumoured to be heading to Mastiff in four days?'

'You need us more,' said Owen firmly.

'They were our people to guard, our friends,' Sergeant Connac said gruffly. 'We'll not stand by and watch them carried off by them Scanrans.'

'You see, it makes sense,' reasoned Owen. 'You'll get used to the idea.'

'You needed our help before and we failed.' Dom spoke quietly.

'We're not letting you run off again.' The barely concealed emotion in Neal's statement made Kel feel wretched. She looked around at the smiling faces, eager to be on the road, eager for adventure. Scanra was a harsh mistress, she hoped that they'd still be smiling when they were done. She nodded in defeat. At least having help would probably keep her alive long enough to contact Alex.

'Excellent,' said Sergeant Connac briskly. 'Onwards to Scanra.'

As they settled down to wait for moonrise, Kel slipped out from Dom's embrace, feeling uncomfortable.

'How did you find me?' asked Kel. 'Did you do some sort of tracking spell?'

'It was by complete chance actually,' replied Seaver. 'Neal led us here, Lord Raoul told us to get to Scanra as quickly as possible and find your trail there.'

Kel turned to Neal, her eyebrows raised. The healer shrugged, 'The Lioness has some interesting friends.'

George Cooper, of course. Thought Kel.

'How did you know it was here?'

'I had a friend with interesting friends,' Kel answered vaguely.

After a few minutes Neal commented, 'So you're still courting then?'

Dom and Kel nodded in confirmation.

'I knew it,' said Neal knowledgeably.

'No you didn't,' scoffed Dom.

'I did to.' Kel only half listened to the argument that ensued. She was thinking how lucky she was to have such loyal friends, even if it was going to make it a lot more difficult to contact the rebel Scanrans -how much could she, or should she reveal?

It took half the night for the smugglers to boat all twenty eight soldiers and horses into Scanra. Kel went over in the first boat and stood impatiently on the far bank, her mind furiously planning the best course of action. By the time the last horse had been ferried across she had decided where they would go.

Thanking the Tortallan men that had carried them across safely, and rewarding them generously with gold from a purse Raoul had given Dom, they mounted up.

'We'll head for those hills,' Kel gestured to rolling humps of land just visible through the starry night. 'We'll rest when we get there, it'll be safer.'

'I think we should head back west,' argued Merric. 'We need to pick up the refugees trail and we know they crossed further downstream.'

'Kel's in charge here,' said Dom warningly. 'She makes the decisions.'

Merric opened his mouth to reply. Not wanting the knight to make any comments about her relationship with Dom, Kel interrupted the impending argument. 'We head for those hills because on the other side is a large plain. We'll be able to see anything moving down there and with a bit of luck we'll have caught up some distance on the Scanrans.'

They rode for the hills.

Exhausted from the ride and sweating in the early-morning sunshine, they arrived at the base of the hills. Sticking to woodland so as to be less conspicuous, Kel found a sheltered hollow where they could rest.

'I want three sentries at all times,' she instructed. Kel insisted on taking the first watch, but after an hour woke one of the convict soldiers to relieve her, so that she could snatch a few much-needed hours of sleep. She curled up next to Prince as a much younger version of herself had always used to do.

It was late afternoon when the group moved on again. Sentries cautiously crested the hill and then signalled that it was safe. Kel and several other men shinned up trees. A plain stretched before them, illuminated magnificently by the red glow of the sinking sun. Sure enough, in the distance and to the west, there were the specks of a train of soldiers and other civilians.

Kel reported back to her men. 'We wait until it's dark, then they'll be some hard riding to cross the plain under the cover of darkness. The country where they're headed is rambling and sheltered. This'll be our chance to catch their trail.

Whilst some men rested, others foraged for food. Late autumnal berries and several varieties of mushrooms were the only fruits of this labour. Several soldiers had wanted to go hunting until Kel pointed out that cooking the meat would be a bad idea; the plume of smoke would show anyone who cast an eye to the hill their exact location. They ate oatcakes and dried beef too, Kel glad that the others had brought along food since she hadn't been able to.

After about six hours solid riding through the night, and navigating by the direction on the compass only, they reached more woods. Kel daren't ride on any further in the darkness; the refugees trail must be around somewhere and she didn't want to go haring off in the wrong direction, or worse straight into an enemy camp. They stopped, much to the relief of their tired horses.

Alex and the six men helping him had searched Hastanne from top to bottom. They'd not left one outlying village unturned. It hadn't been easy; as one of the clans that Maggur had initially taken control of, there were military buildings, barracks and trainee soldiers everywhere.

Retreating to an abandoned farmstead late on night, they concluded that Blacye couldn't possibly be hidden in Hastanne.

'No one's had even a whiff of sorcery, most don't even know the magic killers exist,' sighed Tor, running his one remaining hand through his over-grown blond hair.

'The only iron imports go directly to the forge. I've poked all around it, and whilst they're churning out scarily large numbers of swords, axes and shields, there simply isn't room for them to be assembling metal monsters.' Another one of Alex's fighters spoke up.

They cooked dinner dispiritedly and ate as much as they could manage; it was hard to know when the next meal would come and after their experiences of nearly starving to death in the northern forests, each wanted to store up as much energy as possible.

Alex sat in the corner, staring out at the impossibly infinite blackness of the sky above. He had hoped it wouldn't come down to this; he had been avoiding returning to his birthplace for fear of what he would find there. The castle he'd grown up in, the villages and woods he'd played in as a child might not even be there anymore. Rathhausak might no longer exist and in it's place might stand a giant barracks or fortress. It might be exactly as he left it. It might be home to Blacye the Gallan, their target. He sighed, feeling exhausted with the strain and burdens of leading such an impossible mission. Everything took so long to carry out, months of planning, months of travelling. The war was accelerating at such a pace that Alex feared they might be too late. Taking a deep breath, he said;

'We ride for Rathhausak at dawn.'

They tracked the refugees for the better part of the morning, up and down rocky bluffs and across fields, past abandoned farm houses. Kel always had sentries riding ahead, behind and either side of the main group, feeling like she couldn't be too careful in such unknown country. Kel had few memories of this place. The last time she'd been travelling south and most recollections were unpleasant; she had been injured, tired, worried for Alex and eating raw rabbits because she was so hungry.

A sentry rode back to the group and Kel was instantly on the alert.

'We found, well, you'd best come and see,' said Lofren seriously. Five hundred metres further down the trail, a man hung from a nearby tree, purple-faced and buzzing with flies.

'I think this is where they must've made camp,' commented Dom, scouting around and kicking at the ashy-remnants of fires.

Kel swallowed. She recognised the man as one she'd trained at Greenwoods.

'That's Bert, he was a basket maker,' said Neal in an odd voice.

Kel dismounted, shooed away the flies and got out her knife. She reached up and began to saw away the knotted cord. Others helped her to catch the man as he fell, not yet cold, into her arms. They shut his eyes and covered him with a few leafy branches, not able to spare the time to bury him properly.

Neal said the prayers quickly and they moved on. The trail led to a road, and they paused for a quick lunch of cold sausage whilst Kel, Dom, Merric and Neal consulted the maps.

'The Smiskir Road,' read out Merric. 'This winds it's way north forever.'

'We'd best hope this mage isn't based too far north, else we won't be back before the snows come!' Commented Dom, pouring over the map that detailed the vast country.

Continuing on their journey, they followed the road, riding at the foot of the hills and in forests as much as possible. Mid-afternoon Owen came haring back to Kel reporting twenty-five armed men, marching down the road towards them.

Now Kel faced a very hard decision. These men were on their way to the border, surely they owed it to the Tortallans to try and reduce the number of enemy. On the other hand, their mission was to rescue the refugees and if a single soldier escaped then they could have an army hunting them down, not a prospect that Kel was keen on.

The men were looking to her to lead them.

'We can take them,' said Owen eagerly.

Kel beckoned them closer, a plan forming in her mind.

'If we can draw them into a trap, drive them up against the rocks, then this might work,' she said slowly. 'Not a single one can escape. Kill the officers and anyone else you have to. The others might surrender once they see they're surrounded.'

'And if they don't?' said Neal quietly.

'Then we don't leave any survivors,' Kel said grimly, hoping desperately that it wouldn't come to that.

She set her troops in place, thinking of a thousand things that could go wrong with this plan and trying to think up solutions to every eventuality. Kel tethered Prince loosely in the treeline with several other horses. If they were to get close enough to the Scanrans for the trap to work, they'd have to hide flat on their bellies in bushes.

Fortunately the Scanran troops were complacent and didn't have any scouts trawling the foliage on either side of the stony road. As the men drew closer, marching in step, Kel waited next to Merric, barely daring to breathe. As the Scanrans drew level, Kel, Merric and the convict soldiers leapt from the bushes. Before the Scanrans had even realised what was happening, two of the officers had been killed. As they scrambled to a fighting formation, Dom and Sergeant Connac charged from the woods on horseback. The sight of eighteen mounted men, caused the Scanrans to scatter. Spreading their horses wide, the Tortallans drove the Scanrans back against the cliff.

About four red-tunic garbed soldiers rushed towards Kel at once. She dispatched three of them mercilessly and turned to see Seaver had chased down and stabbed the other. Kel hollered and drew her men back several metres. Several Scanrans tried to make a break for it and were instantly cut down. The others were hovering, backs pressed into the rock and desperately looking for a way out.

'Surrender,' Kel barked in Scanran. 'Drop your weapons.' The twelve or so men left, held onto their swords, undecided. 'Drop your weapons and live, or fight and die.' She spoke loudly and clearly, hoping that she didn't sound to fluent in the language.

There was a pause and then blessedly, the first sword dropped, then another and another. Kel pushed up her helm and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

'Helmets off,' she ordered, 'hands in the air and kick your swords away.'

The convict soldiers stepped forward and gathered up the swords. Kel signalled for Dom and Sergeant Connac to hold their position; just in case a foolish man tried to bolt.

She walked forward and removed her helmet so that she could talk to them face to face.

'What's you name?' She spoke to the first captive.

'Herrun,' the man replied, his eyes wide and terrified.

'Which clan do you hail from?'

'Moshaus.'

Kel went asked each and every man, discovering that they originated from the length and breadth of Scanra. The seventh man along hailed from Somalkt and Kel's heart skipped a beat. She didn't think she knew the man, and he wasn't showing signs of recognising her, so she continued.

She surveyed them as a whole.

'Your clans, all of you, were free men living in this harsh, beautiful country,' Kel began. 'Each and every clan you've mentioned was stolen, destroyed or tricked by Maggur, the man whose army you serve.'

Not one man spoke.

'You-,' Kel addressed the seventh man. 'Were you not there when blood soaked the plains of Somalkt, when blazebalm smashed into your home, when the almighty gates came crashing down?' She spat on the floor for effect. 'And yet you serve this dog.'

'Had no choice,' retorted the man, his indignance breaking through the scared silence. 'We're slaves conscripted to the army.'

'Now I'm giving you a choice,' said Kel. 'We fight Maggur, we're going after his pet sorcerer who is using your children, the children of Scanra to make metal killing machines.'

'The enemy-killers?' asked one man curiously.

'So you've seen them then?' Kel rounded on him. 'Well did your officers tell you that for each one a child is murdered, murdered and their spirit enslaved.'

The men looked sideways at each other, obviously startled by this information.

'We're going after these childkillers and we could use all the help we can get. My friend back there is a mage. He can release you from your army bonds. He'll curse you so that if you ever betray us you'll die. Then you have a choice, run and hide somewhere or stand up and fight for your homeland.'

Silence followed this speech. Kel, feeling like Alex would've done a much better job at trying to recruit people for the cause than she had done, held her breath and waited. None of the men wanted to be the one to say everything.

'Neal,' Kel beckoned. 'Can you release them from their slave bond?' She had switched back to Common.

Aided by Bill, the mage in Dom's squad, they removed the slavers' magic. Kel had the men make blood oaths; oaths that they wouldn't betray her or give away their location. She then sorted her men into formation, sent scouts on their way; they'd lost precious time.

The Scanrans were muttering furiously amongst themselves, some of them looking astonished that they were still alive. Three men made their way cautiously over to Kel, one of them the one from Somalkt.

'We have decided to fight for you,' he spoke firmly, even though his expression displayed his uncertainty. 'Maggur destroyed all that we treasured. In the process of uniting our homeland he's torn it apart. If this is our opportunity for revenge, let us take it.'

Kel nodded approvingly. They had but two spare horses along with them, in case of lameness; they hadn't time to look after spare mounts for everyone. It was agreed that the Scanrans could take turn riding them, the horseless man having to jog after them.

Zerhek, Ralsh and Mynt spoke little which suited Kel who was vainly attempting to disguise just how good her grasp of the Scanran language was.

That evening they finally caught sight of the refugee's captors. They had set up camp a short distance from the Smiskir road. Kel sent two of Dom's men off as scouts; the camp looked as though it had been set up for several days rather than several hours.

They waited for the scouts return in tense silence, Kel churning over ideas in her mind. They were severely outnumbered and to charge into the camp would be suicide. She had to change the odds, but how? They had refugees inside the camp who would help, if only they could be freed. Archers could pick off the sentries silently and easily.

'We reckon there's near two hundred of them,' one scout reported back to Kel. 'But only half of them are soldiers, the rest seem to be slave-traders.'

'Two hundred!' Neal's face was pale in the dim afternoon light.

'We can do this,' said Kel more confidently than she felt, 'If we approach this the right way...'

She spent the next twenty minutes outlining the plan that had only just taken shape in her mind. It was devious, and fraught with things that could go wrong. The men didn't like the plan, Kel didn't care. This just might work...

Thirty minutes later, dressed in a skirt, dusty and seemingly unarmed, Kel stumbled into the slave-traders camp.

Dun, dun duhhhh!

I didn't mean to leave it on a cliff-hanger, I really didn't. But this chapter had grown far too long to do justice to all the adventures ahead. Please review and motivate me to fit writing around hours of hockey and neurobiology lectures!

Much love to you, wherever you may be!

Confusedknight xxx