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the restless
murmur of the creek, playing the blood of the dead away into the
darkness.
    Shadows in the
forest stretched forward, gathering around the wagons. The rising
moon revealed men and women of motley height and build camouflaged
in mud and ferns. They set to work. Each performed their task in
silence, bow and blade slung to their backs. Some dragged bodies to
litter bearers who took the dead into the forest. Others cleaned
the blood spilled on the wagons and steadied the horses.
    Men in Jandan
uniform emerged from the shadows as if the fresh dead had risen.
They took up the positions of the former Jandan guard. A woman
draped in an ochre poncho approached the horses. She whispered to
each in turn, stroking their damp manes and offering them each a
blue fruit. Minni’s horse devoured the fruit quickly and nuzzled
for more.
    Once each
horse received her attention she waded into the creek singing,
water lapping at her thighs. She knelt down and dipped her body
under. The song continued as she raised her head, water cascading
over her body. Thin fabric clung to her delicate curves in the
light of the lonely moon, her hands raised to the sky gathering
light in each palm. Bringing them together in a cup she drew water
from the stream and drank deeply. Moonlight rippled across her
body, shimmering as though she had become water herself. She spread
her arms in the direction of the horses and her song altered. Her
voice blended with the murmur of the creek until all became quiet.
Moonlight cascaded from her hands and enveloped the horses.
    Energy rushed
from the forest towards the ochre woman. The charged air gathered
with the scent of a breaking storm. The water bubbled and whirled,
drawing into the wild mage’s body until the creek drained to
nothing, leaving her kneeling in damp sand. The woman dropped her
hands and the magical light faded from around the horses. She
slumped and waited in the sand. The water returned, replenished
from upstream and she stood slowly, singing softly, returning to
the forest.
    ***
    A tall thin man
approached Minni after the wagons were pulled to the other side of
the creek.
    “ Only watching this time. Why so?”
    “ Your crew is too fast, Wendal. I had my eye on sparring with
the sweet sergeant. You never leave anything for sport. Never any
time for play.”
    “ This is no game.”
    “ And yet you enjoy it so.”
    “ Death is enough for the Jandans. No more.”
    Minni alighted
from her mare with a chuckle. “You are too serious. You won’t let
me have any fun with you.” She rummaged in her saddlebag and pulled
out a leather pouch and threw it to Wendal.
    He opened it
and pulled out a handful of painted figurines. Wendal’s face
creased with a smile.
    “ Minella, I thank you.”
    “ I know how much you love moving your pieces about on a map.
Though, I can’t see how it will improve your work any; this job was
perfect. You need another hobby.”
    “ Without Jaspa we must be extra cautious. What if they have
him and are keeping it quiet? What if they already know our
plans?”
    Minni laughed.
“The Jandans don’t have Jaspa. If they did he’d be dead and they’d
be singing in the cathedral so loud we’d hear it from here.”
    “ How are you so sure?” Wendal studied her face. “Have you
received word?”
    “ No. You?”
    “ Nothing.” Wendal shifted his feet. “Is Delik up to
this?”
    “ It’s just a little hijack, Wendal.”
    “ Hardly. This was a little hijack. That ... That will be a bloody
miracle.”
    “ Are you a believer now? Got an angel hiding
somewhere?”
    “ Please, be wary. Kobb has no master except his ego. He’d turn
for a title; might have turned already. If they’ve bagged Jaspa,
then you and Delik are next. You’re vulnerable
together.”
    “ At least if all goes to ash, you’ve got new figurines. Who
better to lead than you?” Minella winked at Wendal and mounted her
horse.
    Wendal frowned
and returned to the wagons to talk to his men.