But he wouldn’t need it.
He pushed the attacker back, forcing them against a tree. His next blows came at an angle, so the attacker couldn’t properly defend themself with their limited range of motion. But at the last second, instead of cutting through their throat with his blade, he changed his grip and hit the side of their head with the blunt hilt. They went down immediately.
The sound of his breathing filled his ears, echoed by his racing heart. But that was all he heard.
There was no noise coming from the others fighting.
He had run through the brush, jumping over tree roots and dodging low-hanging branches. Just as he’d reached another clearing, he’d felt something crash into his head, and everything went black.
And now he was a prisoner. He let his eyes open ever so slightly, not ready to alert his captors that he was awake.
Through his blurry vision, he could make out a small camp. Tents gathered in a circle around a fire. While he couldn’t see the exact number, the tents would hold more enemies than he wasprepared to fight. Although, tied up as he was, he wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight against anyone.
Two figures made their way toward him. The voices he’d heard before. From their rounded steel helmets, he could tell they were Tinelannian.
They weren’t supposed to be this close to Caisleán. Was Kordislaen’s information wrong?
He closed his eyes as they approached.
“One thousand men isn’t enough,” said the man’s voice.
“It will be. If Bás follows through on his promise, we only need to worry about the warriors he hasn’t swayed. It will be primed for the taking,” replied the woman.
Bás?That name didn’t match any notable generals or chiefs. Ronan knew every prominent Tinelannian leader from his studies, yet he couldn’t recall this name.
It could be an Ionróiran commander. There was very little known about the seafaring invaders—Bás could easily be one of their leaders, working with Tinelann to take Scáilca.
The first voice huffed. “They said they want us moving out before the month’s end. After how this winter began, I don’t want to stay another night in the fucking Scáilcan tundra.”
“This forest is nothing worth complaining over, kid,” she scoffed. “You should see what my village was like after last winter. This war can’t come fast enough.”
The “kid” ignored her. “When will the other half of the troops arrive?”
“The general says they’ll be here soon.”
The warriors went quiet, and Ronan tried to remain still, buthis mind raced at this information. More troops were coming. His hand twitched, wanting to feel the soft leather hilt of his blade. To fight his way out of here and bring this knowledge to Kordislaen.
If he was to escape, he’d need to think it through. Impulsivity and rash actions would lead only to his being injured or killed. He needed to be rational.
He peered through half-closed eyes, making sure no one was looking his way, before opening his eyes to take in his surroundings once more. The two warriors who were talking stood to the right of him, at the edge of his peripheral vision. The woman was built like a boulder, muscular and tall. Her dark hair fell behind her in a braid. The man was smaller, leaner. He shifted on his feet with nervous energy. She was right to call him a kid; he looked to be the age of a young recruit. There was a chance Ronan could take them both on, if he could free himself and find his sword. But it wouldn’t be easy.
That was okay with him. If it was easy, it wouldn’t be fun.
To his left, MacCraith and Commander Ó Dálaigh were tied up on the ground as well. Ó Dálaigh was nearest to him, perhaps four feet away, with MacCraith an additional five feet beyond him. Only MacCraith’s eyes were open. Ronan tried not to worry about Ó Dálaigh.
He tested his restraints, putting together a plan.
“You must be a fool if you think you’re going to win this,” he called out.
“Looks like somebody is awake and feeling brave. It’s about time.” The boy walked over to him, stopping less than a foot away. A smug grin twisted his face. “Now, say that again?”
Ronan tilted his head with what he hoped was a frustrating smirk. “I said, you must be a fool if you think you’re going to best General Kordislaen and take Scáilca.”
The boy laughed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
As they spoke, the other warrior stayed in her position, occasionally glancing back at them but otherwise ignoring the exchange.
Ronan lowered his voice to a whisper. “I think I know more than you.”
