Another push and the ice cracked at the base. It fell toward the door. Two more times the water melted and froze, raising the keys, then dumped them in a jangle. Finally, the ice lifted them to the tiny window and Keles unlocked the door.

Then, just as he emerged from the dungeon, the guardroom door opened.

Water flowed into Keles’ outstretched hand and froze into a short dagger.

The woman coming through the door glanced at him and smiled. “Your weapon is melting.”

“Tyressa?” Keles’ weapon shattered against the floor. “What are you doing here?”

“Have you forgotten Prince Cyron made your safety my responsibility?”

“No.” He leaned heavily against the doorjamb. “We have to find Jasai and save her.”

“Already done.” She crossed to him and scooped him up in her arms. “I’m getting you out of here.”

“Put me down. I can walk.”

“We need to run.” Tyressa toed the door open and slipped into the night. She cut down an alley heading east. Other shadows detached themselves from buildings and moved with her. A sliver of light revealed Grand Minister Rislet Peyt-an ally. Keles relaxed and Tyressa laughed gently.

“My job was to find you after we’d freed our companions.”

“Now you go back for Jasai, yes? I can help.”

“No need.”

Tyressa slowed, then set Keles down in a small courtyard near one of the city’s eastern gates. It stood open, and several wagons waited near it. The Desei from Tsatol Pelyn held the gate and, at Tyressa’s signal, headed out.

“I don’t understand. Wagons? Supplies? How did you accomplish this?” Keles sagged against Tyressa’s shoulder.

The clatter of hooves on cobblestones echoed through the night. Riders were coming fast. Tyressa lifted Keles into the back of a wagon, then turned and drew her sword. The Desei warriors spread out, sinking back into shadows, ready to attack if required.

Riders came into view and Tyressa’s triumphant laugh signaled that no fighting would be necessary. Most of the riders swept past and out the gate, but one drew rein at the wagon. Tyressa plucked the woman from behind the rider and deposited her beside Keles.

“Jasai?” Keles wanted to say more, but the lump in his throat choked him.

“Yes, Keles.” The Princess leaned over and gave him a firm kiss.

That brought a laugh from the rider. “You’re the Anturasi she was on about.”

Jasai fell back as the wagon jerked and started through the gate. “He saved us at Tsatol Pelyn.”

“You have my thanks, then.”

“You’re welcome.” Keles peered hard at the rider. “Who are you?”

“Prince Eiran, at your service.”

“But you’re dead!”

“The Council of Ministers certainly intended me to be.” The Prince laughed. “While they’re all having a banquet to celebrate my sister’s capture, we’ve gone and stolen her away. I doubt that will help their digestion.”

Keles arched an eyebrow. “Somehow I doubt that concerns you terribly.”

“You’re right.” The Prince glanced back at the city and the open gate. “I’m more concerned about what they’ll do to get her back. I’m hoping we’ll get far enough away that we’ll never have to deal with the consequences.”

TheNewWorld

32nd day, Month of the Hawk, Year of the Rat

Last Year of Imperial Prince Cyron’s Court

163rd Year of the Komyr Dynasty

737th Year since the Cataclysm

Plains of Tsengui, Nalenyr

Prince Pyrust recognized Virisken Soshir as a kindred spirit the very moment he laid eyes on the man. Though Soshir appeared unkempt and harried, having retreated from the fall of Tsatol Deraelkun accounted for his condition. Rumors casting him as an ancient Mystic returned to help the Empress destroy her enemy intrigued the Prince-as any military experience was quite welcome.

What Pyrust found most agreeable was the way others reacted. The core of his cadre were all xidantzu — independent, strong, and talented individuals. Despite that, they were clearly ready to die for him. Even the boy with the withered arm looked as if prepared to cut Pyrust down at the flick of Soshir’s finger.

Pyrust had come south to the Plains of Tsengui with most of the troops he’d brought into Nalenyr. He’d deployed on the plains with two armies of his best-trained Desei troops in the center. An equivalent force made up of Naleni troops occupied the left flank. Count Linel Vroan took up the right flank with an army of troops drawn from Nalenyr’s rebellious western provinces. The Prince held two armies of Desei militia in reserve, ready to reinforce as needed.

As the Prince stood with Soshir and Vroan on a hill in twilight, the xidantzu ’s displeasure with the arrangement became evident.

“What is it you disapprove of, Master Soshir?”

“The position won’t hold.”

Linel Vroan, tall and arrogant, snorted with disgust. “The Plains of Tsengui have seen many battles. The Prince has stationed our troops upslope of the stream running through the center. We’ve dammed it at the eastern edge to flood the lands near the escarpment. This doubly wards our flank. It also allows us to concentrate our troops here, astride the road, to block the passage.”

Soshir looked up at the Prince. “Your placement of troops is flawless. Turning the battlefield’s edge into a marsh is likewise good. Were you fighting a conventional force, they would think twice before engaging you. The kwajiin will not. They will break through your lines.”

Disgust filled Vroan’s words. “Do not think our men cowards simply because your troops broke and lost Tsatol Deraelkun.”

Soshir slowly turned his attention on the Naleni lord. “You assume many things, my lord. You are a fool. You believe Tsatol Deraelkun was unassailable. For it to be lost, therefore, betokens a failure of the troops defending it.”

Vroan’s eyes narrowed. “You deny this is what happened? You had defeated a force twice the size of that which broke the fortress. How else does one interpret what happened?”

Pyrust raised his half hand. “I believe, Count Vroan, Master Soshir wishes us to consider the possibility that the enemy we face was able to accomplish with an army and a half that which had never been accomplished before. These are some remarkable circumstances, after all.”

Vroan laughed. “Yes, war-moles and giant, stone-throwing apes. Nightmare creatures to explain away cowardice.”

Soshir pointed off to the right flank. “If that is what you believe, Count Vroan, then you should move your troops. It’s the Virine forces that retreated from Tsatol Deraelkun which hold your flank.”

“I don’t need them.” Vroan spat. “Let them go north with Count Derael and the Virine princeling. They can all cower in Moriande.”

Where you would no doubt be happy, Count Vroan, had you supplanted Prince Cyron. Pyrust extended his hand. “Please, my lord, calm yourself. I believe, Master Soshir, you can understand Vroan’s discomfort. We were hoping to invest our forces in Tsatol Deraelkun to stop the invasion. Instead, when we met your scouts, we stopped here and made the best of our situation. Historically this has been a good position.”

“I do not argue that point, Highness. It is just that, historically, no one has ever faced a force like this.” Soshir shook his head. “You should pull the main bulk of troops back to Moriande.”

“And surrender half the nation?” Vroan threw his arms wide. “We cannot concede that much territory to them.”

Soshir ignored his protest. “You will force them to lay siege to the city and stretch their supply lines. You can keep forces in the field to attack their supplies. Laying siege to a city like Moriande will require an incredible force, and even if they field it, they have to feed it. You can bleed them. You can raid into Erumvirine. You can force them to focus elsewhere. Nelesquin will tire of his war when things slow down.”