Echoes of Betrayal Read Online Free PDF Page A

northeast from the city, heading for the near end of the eastern scathefire track. Even though he had explained the marching order before the invasion ever started, and the reasons for it, the small force fumbled its way into formation, taking almost twice as long as the entire Phelani Company would have. If he’d had just one cohort of Phelani, under an experienced captain—! But he didn’t. He pushed that wish aside. He’d started his military career with fewer than this. At least he’d managed to convince Arian she should stay behind in Chaya.
    He set a brisk pace; he wanted to meet the invaders as far from Chaya as possible. If their force was as large as Torfinn had said it might be, he could not hope for a clean victory, but he could delay them, perhaps until Aliam brought up the rest of the Halverics.
    When they came to the scathefire track, Kieri’s heart clenched at the sight of so much anguish for the taig. Nothing but ash remained where the dragonlet had gone, and the blackened sticks and stumps of trees on either side. The others’ faces looked the way he felt—shocked, horrified, heartsick. Whatever the elves had done here, he saw no healing, though the taig no longer seemed as anguished.
    They moved down the track, making better time on that fire-hardened surface; wind blew the soft ash away from the horses’ hooves. Kieri thought the Pargunese troops were also likely to use this open track instead of the narrower, meandering forest trails.
    Toward evening, one of the forward scouts reported that he’d made contact with a wounded forest ranger on his way south to Chaya. Kieri pushed forward with his Squires and a squad of Royal Archers, leaving the supply train behind, and found the ranger, one arm wrapped in a bloody bandage, slumped against a tree.
    “Sir king,” the man said, struggling to stand.
    “Be easy,” Kieri said, waving him back down. “I need your report, not formality.” He squatted down beside the man.
    “Yes, sir king. A large body of Pargunese troops marching this way on the fire trail, only a day away, if that. They got across just upstream of Blackmarsh, following that magical fire; it burned out the Halveric camp there. I was in Blackmarsh, close enough to feel the heat of the fire, but escaped.”
    This close, Kieri could see that the ranger’s eyebrows had burnt away, leaving his face looking peculiarly blank and shiny.
    “How many, and what arms?” Kieri asked.
    “The Pargunese? Maybe five hundred at first, but now maybe two to three hundred foot—pikes and crossbows—and twenty horse. We rangers harried them along the way, sir king, as much as we could.”
    “Rangers only? What about Royal Archers or Halverics?”
    “Not many Halverics left—a few showed up, right after the fire, then more trickled in. Seven hands of them altogether, under a sergeant, but some wounded. They’ve helped. The Royal Archers to the west weren’t sure they should leave their camp—they’d been fighting the first wave, from before the fire, and expected more to come. They did lend us ten of their fifty. When I was hit and couldn’t bend my bow, I came south as fast as I could, hoping to reach Chaya and give warning, but—” He paused; Kieri could tell that despite the food he’d been given, he was exhausted. “And our supplies are low, sir king. I hadn’t eaten in two days when I met your scout.”
    Kieri cast his mind back over thirty years of war and could imagine every miserable hour of the defense … outnumbered, confused, leaderless, hungry and cold and tired.
    “There’s too many of ’em, sir king,” the ranger said. “We’ve tried, but—”
    “Be at ease,” Kieri said again. “You and the others have done very well; I honor your service. Now I am here, and the Pargunese will not know what happened.” The ranger’s jaw dropped a little. “There are ways for a fox to eat a bullock … not in one gulp, but one bite at a time.” Kieri stood. “You need a