‘Eda,’ Harlan warned.
Thomas dragged his gaze up to hers. ‘You wretched girl. You are lucky you missed.’
Eda snatched up her mother’s knife and threw it, pinning his other arm to the chair. ‘I never miss,’ she said calmly. Then she rose slowly and walked over to him. She bent down so they were eye level. ‘You’re lucky I love my aunt and cousin more than I hate you.’ She yanked the knives free. ‘I might not be arealdefender,but Iama soldier. Make no mistake about that.’
Slamming the knives down on the table, she left the room.
CHAPTER40
Roul waited until it was dark before moving any closer to the camp. While he was dressed in civilian clothes and looked like any other peasant in these parts, he knew anyone found loitering nearby would be treated with suspicion.
He climbed the tallest tree he could find and settled himself in the branches up high. His eyes went to the wagons covered in canvas, no doubt concealing weapons, then to the meticulously spaced tents. Roul watched the men come and go, doing some basic calculations in the process. He estimated around three thousand soldiers.
Threethousand.
He had tracked them east for the past two days, and now he was absolutely sure they were headed to Chadora. They showed no interest in the towns and villages along the way. They were simply passing through. Now Roul had to beat them to Chadora. According to the map his father had given him, he was a two-day ride from the wall. Less if he made do with only a few hours’ sleep.
So that was what he did. He travelled solo through the open plains and forests of Carmarthenshire, avoiding people and ready for trouble.
Everything was going fine until day two, when a man attempted to rob him while he slept. Roul woke when his horse stirred, snatched up his sword, and killed the man without hesitation. It was not until he was on his feet staring down at the body that he realised it was an old man. No one else came from the trees. He was not part of a rebel group. He was just a loner trying to survive in the wastelands. Guilt hit Roul, but he pushed it away. It was kill or be killed.
Seeing it was almost dawn, he saddled his horse and took out the map. He was only a half day’s ride from the wall now.
As he was returning the map to his bag, he heard a stick snap behind him. Perhaps he had been wrong and the man had not been alone after all.
Roul spun, drawing his weapon and squinting in the predawn light. He lowered the sword when he caught sight of a donkey.
‘You must be fucking joking,’ he muttered.
The animal walked over to the corpse, sniffed it, then blinked in Roul’s direction. It wore a halter with a piece of rope attached to it and a girth around its middle with a bag balancing on either side. Roul walked over and searched the bags. Seeing there was nothing of use besides a small blunt knife that smelled of offal, he removed the load from the donkey’s back, then snatched up the rope.
‘All right. Same donkey rules as always. If you slow me down, I’ll leave you behind.’ He returned to his horse, mounted, and continued with the donkey trailing behind him.
It was around four hours later when the wall came into view. Aware he could not enter via the east wall, he veered northwest so he was approaching directly in front of the north gate. He stopped out of shooting range, knowing better than to venture any closer for now. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he emitted a long, loud whistle. He was no longer a defender, but they were far less likely to shoot him if he spoke their language.
The wait felt eternal. It was close to ten minutes later when a reply finally came. A sequence, a test, one that if he got it wrong, he might as well turn around and go home. But he need not worry, because the language would remain with him for life.
A whistle came back telling him to proceed to the gate.
Looking back at the donkey, he said, ‘I want you on your best behaviour.’
* * *
Eda stood frozen atop the wall, holding on to the embrasure, blinking repeatedly and telling herself the sight before her was not real. This time her fantasy had gone too far. This was not just a sole man on a horse appearing through the fog but a sole man with a donkey in tow. That was how she knew she had finally lost her mind.
There had been much discussion atop the wall when the signal had reached them.
‘But no one left,’ Harlan was saying to Hadewaye. ‘Someone has to have left to be returning.’
Harlan decided to test this so-called defender before telling him to proceed. Then, satisfied, he went to meet him at the gate.
The closer the man got, the more her mind played tricks on her.
‘Holy hell,’ Hadewaye said. ‘That who I think it is?’
She wanted to ask him who he thought it was, just to be sure, but the words would not come.
‘It is,’ Hadewaye said, a grin splitting his face. ‘It’s Thornton.’
