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the night. Nor letting the men freeze while they wait.”
    Piper agreed. He couldn’t wait to warm his frozen toes, even if for only a little while. “I’ll lead a scouting patrol out and do the rounds. Badron may have already taken ship back to Delranan but there is still a strong Goblin force somewhere between us and the mountains. Set up camp at the first suitable place and get the fires going. I don’t want to lose anyone to the cold. This damned war’s already taken enough from all of us.”
    “Stay safe.”
    “As much as I can be,” he replied.
    Piper wouldn’t feel safe until the Goblins were found and eradicated. Their filth was a blight on the world, one threatening to spread if Badron was suddenly in league with them. Technically subordinate by rank, both Piper and Vajna agreed that it would be best if he remained in command of the Wolfsreik regulars until the war’s conclusion. Vajna had no qualms with that. He doubted his own men would find it easy to take orders from a man from another kingdom, much less one who’d been an enemy only months before.
    The alliance was still extremely fragile. Petty fights and arguments broke out almost daily, resulting in several trips to the field hospitals, prisons, and more than one body being buried. Those guilty were punished according to their infractions, regardless of which army they had once served. Rolnir and King Aurec understood that the only way to forge a strong alliance was by enacting a singular set of rules for everyone. Balance must be maintained in order to facilitate the full assimilation of three different cultures. Failure here meant failure at the end.
    The one hundred men in the scout company divided into two equal groups. Piper led the one that rode north while the other hurried south. They’d cross paths halfway around and meet back up at the starting point in a few hours, hopefully before the sun dipped over the distant horizon. Daylight temperatures were tolerable, if just, but the combination of darkness and wind chill drove the cold deeper past freezing. Piper didn’t relish the idea of moving through unfamiliar terrain while worrying about freezing a finger off.
    Still, he had no other choice but to move slower than normal. Uneven snows left the terrain hazardous. They’d already lost several horses on the push west, each one further constricting their combat capabilities. He knew it was just the beginning. The soldiers, all of them, were tired. They’d been fighting for months. Mistakes stemmed from exhaustion. Mistakes got people killed. More soldiers died from accidents and diseases than enemy contact. Until the day came when that was no longer true, Piper was forced to make the difficult choices.
    Soon the sounds of axes and hammers ringing across the snow-covered fields faded. The scouts had gone far enough away from Vajna’s camp that they felt totally alone. Already shadows crawled across the world as the sun began to drop. Piper shivered as the temperature plunged more cruelly than any dagger ever could. His face was red, raw in places. His lips burned. His eyes were sore, tired, and on fire. Thoughts of going home didn’t help, leaving him truly miserable for the first time in many years. He made a note to give Rolnir a piece of his mind when the main body joined back up with the vanguard.
    “Rider coming in, sir!” the burly sergeant with flowing crimson hair announced and pointed.
    Piper followed the direction and his heart leapt at seeing how fast the rider was approaching. Snow kicked up with each thundering step. Speed meant trouble. His horse pranced with nervous anticipation, causing Piper to pat its neck reassuringly. “I feel it too. We might be heading into a fight.”
    The sergeant shot him an interested look, his mind racing over pre-combat procedures in the event of a fight.
    Too anxious for his own good, Piper gestured his sergeant to follow and rode forward to meet the flustered scout. The rider reined to a