His gaze snapped to the flap of the tent when it moved, eyes meeting Eda’s. Whatever he had seen, whatever he was sensing, she had seen and felt it too. Now she was waiting for him to confirm it. He responded with the slightest nod. Then the flap moved again, and she was gone.
Roul stepped back from the fire and into the shadows, darkness falling like a cloak of safety over him. His ears strained to catch any thread of noise.
Snap.
A twig breaking underfoot made him look back at the tent. A dark figure appeared, casting a long shadow over the canvas. Roul lifted his sword, ready to throw it, but an arrow burst through the tent before he had a chance, striking the intruder through the chest. The defenders emerged then, weapons in hand. Eda had managed to rouse them with little fuss. She and Hadewaye watched the surrounding trees down their arrows while the others turned their swords in their hands.
They waited for the intruder to fall silent, to die. Then they waited for more of them to arrive.
An arrow sailed past Blackmane’s face, and Eda returned fire, but she was shooting blind. Roul signalled for them to spread out, and the group dispersed, their footsteps careful and silent. He followed Eda because she was the job—and because he could not help it.
A man dropped from the trees, landing in front of Tatum amid a fluttering of leaves. The defender speared him with his sword before he had a chance to raise his weapon. Another figure appeared from the side, tackling Alveye from behind. Eda swung her bow in that direction and shot him through the ribcage.
Roul was almost to Eda when he felt the swoosh of a weapon pass by him. He spun around, lifting his sword just as the blade came back in the other direction. Rebels spilled from the shadows then, around thirty of them. An arrow pierced the neck of the man Roul was fighting, and he knew without looking back that Eda had fired it. He turned and ran for her, trying to reach her before their attackers did.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two men run at Tatum. Roul reached for his dagger and threw it, stopping one in his tracks. Tatum was ready for the other, disarming him in two strikes before cutting his throat. Eda pivoted on the spot, firing one arrow after another. Then a man twice her size stepped up behind her.
‘Suttone, behind!’ Roul shouted.
She turned, releasing an arrow into the man’s face. Roul reached her then, kicking the man back and away from her.
‘You all right?’ he asked, panting and looking around.
She nodded, reloading her bow and turning at the sound of feet pounding the wet earth. Roul watched the trees on the other side of them, not taking any chances. He heard the arrow release behind him, heard it hit, heard the scream that tore from the rebel’s throat. He turned at the sound, for it was not the scream of a man. There stood a boy, no older than ten, an arrow protruding from his neck. A sword slipped from his hand, and he toppled backwards. Eda clapped a hand over her mouth, frozen in place as she watched him writhe on the ground before falling still. With a sharp inhale, she ran towards the boy.
‘Suttone,’ Roul hissed.
When she did not stop, he followed her, watching as she dropped to her knees beside the boy and felt for a heartbeat. Roul did not need to check for a pulse to know he was dead. He took her by the arm, dragging her to her feet. ‘Load that bow. This isn’t over.’
Eda sank back down to the ground, the weapon slipping from her hand this time.
Roul looked to the trees, then back at her. ‘I need you to pick up your weapon.’
She lifted her eyes to him, and even in the dark, he could tell the boy’s death had broken something in her. Eda signed something he could not understand, her voice lost.
He bent to pick up her bow and placed it in her hands. ‘Get on your feet. That’s an order, soldier.’
Tatum appeared, announcing himself. ‘The camp’s secure, Commander.’ He stopped when he caught sight of the corpse. ‘Oh shit.’
Eda dropped the arrow she was trying to load and bent to pick it up with a shaky hand. As she straightened, a dagger flew past her head. She swung her bow in that direction, but Roul noticed the string was not as taut as it should have been. She was already hesitating. Tatum moved to the other side of her when a short man burst into view, his sword raised above his head. Still Eda did not fire the arrow.
‘What are you waiting for, Suttone?’ There was an edge in Tatum’s voice. ‘Another dagger?’
She let out a pained breath, hands trembling.
Roul stepped forwards and threw his sword, stopping the man a few feet from them. He watched the rebel fall to the ground before looking at Eda. She was still staring down her arrow, her breaths coming fast.
‘Eda,’ Roul said quietly, using her first name.
Slowly, she lowered her bow. ‘I’m sorry.’
Then she fell to her knees.
CHAPTER20
There was no blood on her, yet Eda continued to scrub her hands in the freezing water. She was crouched in the stream in the grey light of predawn, her trousers removed. They sat atop her boots at the edge of the stream. The image of that dead boy’s face was still sharp in her mind. Perhaps he had a mother waiting for him, a sister. How long until she found out? Would the grief steal away her words like it had Eda’s?
Movement in her periphery made her turn her head, and there was Roul standing at the water’s edge, watching her.
