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tighter. “You can ask questions later,” she said. “Let’s go.”
    “Yes! Of course, I’m coming!” I bobbed my head in vigorous assent, terrified she would make good on her threat. To my relief, she relaxed her grip, though she did not release me fully until I had stepped out the door and closed it behind me.
    “This way.” She gestured towards the village square and waited for me to move first, staying slightly behind and to my left, clearly ready to grab me again if I tried to go anywhere but towards her Captain.
    Around a dozen people had already gathered in the square, and Bryndine’s company was still moving from door to door, rousing others from their sleep. Those that were already awake stood apart from the women who had woken them, muttering unhappily amongst themselves. A dozen or so horses were hitched to the rail outside the Prince’s Rest; the Kellens’ stable had no room for the mounts of an entire company of soldiers.
    Bryndine stood beside the fireleaf in the center of the village, speaking in hushed tones with some of her women. A large, empty wagon sat in the street nearby. It must have come with them, because it did not belong to anyone in Waymark.
    Bryndine glanced up and saw Sylla and me approaching, favoring me with a small nod in greeting. The dressing on her left arm had already been replaced with clean bandages—at least she had taken my warning seriously in that regard.
    Sylla grabbed me from behind just outside Bryndine’s earshot and whispered, “Listen to me, Scriber: if you don’t do exactly what the Captain asks, I’ll make you wish you had.” She released me and shoved me forward, and I stumbled towards Bryndine, dreading whatever she intended to ask of me.
    Bryndine was giving orders to a tall brown-haired woman whose back was to me as I approached. “Lieutenant, have the women set up a guard around the village. Selvi and Elene have the best eyes; send Elene with Genna, Nalla, and Janelyn to watch the west—the Burners will most likely come that way. Selvi, Orya, and Wynne can take the east, and put Deanyn and Ivyla on the north and south entrances. I doubt they will come by the road, but better to not take the chance.”
    “Right away, Captain.” The woman gave a formal salute—right fist over the heart, left hand held upright with fingers splayed like the branches of the burning tree—then turned towards me. I recognized her stern, sun-browned face immediately, though her brown hair was streaked with grey that had not been there when I had last seen her. I shifted my eyes to check her collar, and sure enough, found a golden Scriber’s pin.
    “Tenille?” She had briefly been at the Academy while I was. Six or seven years my senior, she had been in her next-to-last year of study as I began my first. Though she had ostensibly been pinned in History like myself, she had chosen to focus primarily on military history, and used it as an excuse to stand in on Warfare classes as research. They called her the first woman pinned in Warfare, even though it wasn’t officially true, and few outside the Scribers knew her story. I had vaguely known that she was Bryndine’s second-in-command, or at least had heard some rumors, but it had not occurred to me until that moment that I might see her. My heart sank into my stomach. Having another Scriber in Waymark—and one who knew me by name—was the last thing I wanted.
    “Dennon. Good to see you,” Tenille said politely, almost certainly lying. She was a Scriber, and the Scribers never forget. Save for Illias, I doubted I would ever again meet one of my brethren who was truly pleased to see me. “We’ll have to speak later. I have work to do.”
    Tenille strode briskly away to carry out Bryndine’s commands, leaving me alone with her Captain. That she was too busy to speak at that moment was a blessing, but now that she had seen me she might tell Bryndine or the others of me at any time. There was little I could do to stop