This bit was quickly written as it has been floating in my mind for awhile.

Morning faded away into a sunless afternoon that saw even more rain showers soak the already drenched camp. Karigan shivered and warmed her hands around the mug of tea that the secretary had shyly offered her. The normally comforting brew did nothing to settle the nerves that churned in her stomach as she stared at the whorls in the wooden planks of the floor. Zachary continued to speak quietly to General Isleigh, occasionally taking a turn about the room as they met with the various aides that darted in and out of the command tent.

The room now resembled something close to the attic that Karigan once played in as a child. Cleverly designed folding tables were set up to bear the weight of hastily stacked references, manuals, correspondence, and even more maps that highlighted weather patterns, animal migrations, and yearly road traffic. Wedged between the reading materials were abandoned mugs, a pair of gloves set aside absentmindedly, and several piles of broken quill tips. Karigan picked up the end of a rather brightly knitted scarf that some mother or wife had knitted for their soldier before he left for home. She fingered the thick strands of wool with a soft smile for it looked like something her Aunt Stace might have sent to her, had she still been a mere Rider in the castle that previous winter.

Karigan glanced over at the secretary who was taking a much needed break on the basic cot that sat in the corner. His ink stained fingers trailed on the ground as he slept, his other arm thrown across his face, a light snore emitting from underneath the limb.

She sighed and leaned back in her chair. It was a rather tedious business, this waiting game.

It had been several hours since Fergal left in his newly adopted disguise as a student. His uniform, his saddle, anything that could have linked him to his messenger service had been replaced. She had watched him mount Sunny with no small amount of trepidation and canter away towards Rivertown, hopefully to make a speedy crossing that day. It was a rather unexpected feeling that came upon her as she had waited until his form was gone from view. A heady combination of longing, frustration, and above all, a sadness that she was not on Condor, following on the same path to Corsca.

The play of emotions across her countenance had not gone unnoticed by Zachary, who had gently placed his hand on the small of her back in an understated show of support. She glanced sideways into his understanding eyes and gave a tiny half-hearted smile in response. They returned inside and did not speak of what had occurred in those few moments, but she knew that it was understood by her husband that the call to ride would never completely go away.

Karigan took a sip of the now lukewarm tea and crossed her legs as she idly peered down at the open sea chart on the side table next to her. Her knowledge of sea charts were rather limited to those in her father's office at the docks but being able to decipher such things had always given her a sort of pleasure, a way to engage her lively mind as her father would say. Or to keep her out of trouble.

The sound of the canvas rustling at the entrance prompted her to raise her head expectantly, as did all the occupants from their appointed tasks. Brienne quietly made her way to the king and announced that the two messengers sighted miles north up the road would be arriving shortly, now riding to the heart of the camp.

The two rather young Riders, ushered in by Fastion, were visibly nervous to be in the company of the king and his Rider-Queen. Upon entering the command tent, both had bowed to their monarchs and solemnly waited to be relieved of their missives. Zachary took both and handed one to Karigan with little ceremony; dismissing the two teenagers with a kind smile and instructions for Brienne to find them a bunk for the night.

Karigan was rather pleased to be included thus and gave him a thankful smile. His eyes twinkled as he broke the seal on his dispatch and moved to sit at a vacant desk to peruse the contents. She unfolded the heavy parchment of the letter in her hands and immediately, a frown appeared on her face as she quickly scanned it in its entirety. There were a few minutes of silence before Zachary spoke tentatively, 'I gather the news in your hands is more serious than the household matters sent to me by Laren?'

She looked up from the parchment and let out a breath in contemplation, 'I don't really know what to make of it to be honest. Alton writes to say that the border with Blackveil has been silent for almost a week; no attacks and no sightings of the beasts.'

Zachary's eyebrows shot up as he reached out to take the letter from her. 'Just like that?'

General Isleigh's gravelly voice sounded from a set up cot in the corner, 'Someone or something is up to no good.'

The king turned to regard the general in his reclined pose. 'It could be that the creatures are not as numerous as they once were. We put quite a dent in the population this past year.'

'Or . . . something is afoot,' the general retorted sourly, keeping his cap over his eyes.

Karigan hid her smile and reached out to touch Zachary's hand, bringing his attention back. 'What is the best course of action?'

Zachary sighed heavily and glanced back down at the missive. He wrinkled his nose slightly before folding it back up carefully and tossing it on the main table. 'As much as I know you'll love this answer Kari, I believe we must wait.'

'For a trap,' the general quipped.

Zachary rolled his eyes, 'For there to be some decisive movement.'

'Even better, let them have the time for a well planned trap.'

'I am not denying that the situation makes me decidedly nervous,' Zachary acknowledged. 'But my attention is here in L'Petrie, towards the invading fleet, and so I cannot divert any resources to Blackveil to investigate at the current moment. The more than capable detachment there will continue to be at D'Yer's disposal.'

General Isleigh sniffed but said nothing.

Karigan sought the large Sacoridian map on the table, pushing past provincial maps and city outlays to study the notations made in the margins. 'About a fourth of the army is there?'

Zachary nodded, 'Yes, and in light of this news I may have a few militia posted on the main roads headed west. For as much as I wish the general to be wrong, there is always a possibility that what we see in Corsca is not the bulk of the enemy.'

She turned a concerned glance towards him, 'You think Corsca to be a diversion?'

Zachary spoke slowly, 'I think that Corsca is intended to be the main point for invasion. Blackveil . . . is uncertain right now. It has never shown any inclination to follow rhyme or reason, but I do not want to take unnecessary risks by merely assuming.'

Karigan bit her lip and nodded in understanding, but she remained slightly coiled in tension at the thought of another worry on her conscious. She moved to sit back down and absentmindedly took up her mug of tea, bringing the rim to her lips and cringing at the now cold, bitter tea.

That night, she curled into Zachary's arms and tried to calm the racing thoughts in her mind, but to no avail. He ran his hand down her back soothingly in an attempt to settle her, but the lines of stress in her body did not relax.

He brushed the hair from her face and whispered, 'Would you like to know my secret to getting a good night's rest?'

Slightly confused, she tilted her head up and leaned back to peer at him with an arched eyebrow. He chuckled, 'Besides that.'

Karigan offered a smile and gave a small shrug in response to his original question.

He leaned forward to kiss the tip of her nose, 'Leave it at the door. Running yourself ragged will not fix the problem, but sleep and a new day may allow for a better perspective.'

'And who taught you this wisdom?' she teased.

Zachary lay back on his pillow, his fingers tracing small circles on her bare arm. 'My grandmother was full of useful bits of advice like that. Day looks better on a full stomach, do not let the sun set on your anger, wash your hands before a meal . . . a clean workspace is a healthy workspace . . . '

'Very sage advice,' she said with a grin, resting her cheek back against his shoulder. 'I imagine she had several occasions to feel as we do; with too much on our minds.'

'And with that being said, we need to find our sleep if we are to deal with things one day at a time,' he said firmly, sitting up slightly to pull the covers around her shoulder and tuck her securely in next to him.

Karigan closed her eyes with a wry smile gracing her features as she listened to his heart beat, twining her fingers in his, and finally allowing her eyelids to grow heavy with exhaustion.

Fergal was not seen until a week later, trudging into the camp tired, battered, and with several guests in tow.

Twenty-three children and four women had followed him from the outskirts of Corsca, across the rain-swollen river, and into the sprawling army camp. They were immediately ushered away to be fed and housed for the foreseable future, while Fergal was pulled into the command tent wearily to give his report.

Zachary had taken one look at Fergal's haggard face and directed him to sit down, despite Fergal's weak protests. The young Rider glanced uneasily at the imposing figure of General Isleigh in the corner before starting at the beginning.

With the aid of her aunts, who apparently refused to leave their home, only the twenty-three children were able to been taken out of the city through the tunnels. The nightly roving patrols had made it difficult to move about the city undetected. The number rescued was somewhat less than expected, but the anonymity of her aunts thankfully remained a secret.

The general interrupted, 'Were you able to ascertain any sort of schedule, or number of men?'

Fergal gave a jerky nod, 'Each city block had an hour circuit that was completed by a ten man squad. Curfew was at sundown,' he muttered.

Karigan reached over to press a mug into his hands. 'Go on,' she urged.

He took a deep breath, 'We'd take who we got through a street hole in the north market square, it was mostly hidden by the stalls. Last trip out, we had us a family from near the docks. One of the young ones, a baby, started to cry in his mam's arms. We were sighted,' he said grimly.

Zachary drew his brows together, 'Followed?'

Fergal shifted in his chair, 'We made it down the ladder, most of the group were already down, and tried to move quick towards the exit. But we heard them come down, heard the shouting as they must have figured we'd follow the tunnel to the drain-out.'

The general cocked a brow in confusion, 'And how did a gaggle of women and children outrun this squad?

A lilting voice spoke from the doorway, 'Because I ensured that they escaped and that those unfortunate soldiers did not.'

Brienne and Fastion immediately drew their weapons, both displaying a level of surprise and anger at the intruder who had slipped so quietly into their presence. Zachary stood in front of Karigan's seated position, effectively cutting off her line of sight, glancing warily at the ordinary woman who stared back at them all unconcernedly.

A measure of fear and awe came into Fergal's eyes as he bobbed his head in acknowledgement, 'Aye, she was the one who came to our aid.'

The woman wore the non-descript clothes of a middle class merchant's wife; well made but without the ornamentation of the upper classes. Her short stature and plain features did nothing to take away from the cool fire that burned in her aquamarine eyes or the posture that casually hinted at the coiled power within the small frame. And yet, she displayed no degree of hostility or antagonism; only smiling with amusement at the flustered Weapons.

General Isleigh looked at her questioningly and with a degree of suspicion, 'Madam, you come uninvited into this command post. What is your business here?'

'To speak with your king,' she said simply, crossing her arms over her chest.

Zachary walked forward, despite the distrustful countenances of his Weapons, and inclined his head to the woman. 'Despite not knowing the particulars of your assistance, I thank you for your timely interventation.'

The woman grinned, displaying a row of pearly white teeth that seemed to shimmer iridescently. 'You are very welcome, Firebrand.'

Karigan studied the woman intently, taking in the tiny pink shells that were strung and looped around her neck gracefully, and the edges of her cloak that seemed stained with sea water. The woman must have felt her gaze, for she turned and offered Karigan a friendly smile. 'I had heard that a new Queen sits in Sacor City. And one with the sea in her veins,' she said approvingly.

The general was clearly at the end of his patience and drew himself up to his full height, 'You've not made the purpose of your visit clear.'

She turned her cool gaze on the irate general, 'As I have said, I come to speak to your king-,' she broke off and raised her hand, curling a finger loosely. The rolled sea chart rose into the air, eliciting shocked gasps from those present, and floated lightly to the woman's outstretched hand, '-and to speak of important matters at hand.'

The general swore colorfully and abruptly pushed Zachary behind him, coming up to stand next to the Weapons, menacingly staring down the petite woman, but the she only smiled gently and allowed the chart to come to rest in her open palm. 'I see you finally received my wedding gift. Shall I teach you to use it?'

Seemed a good place to cut it off.