Sorela cursed quietly. She was not one to use vulgarities; they were below a noblewoman, especially a noblewoman who was a mage of the Hall. How could she have been so remiss? She knew Falan and Serin were north men, but they had led her to believe they were from Solen, not the very country they were in.
Diligence! she told herself forcefully.
She would have told the captain to cut the two Serafes down, but unless you caught them off guard there was little chance two dozen men-at-arms could stop them. No, she would have to surprise the two men as they returned. It was the only way to ensure they did not escape, or kill half the guardsmen on their way out.
The captain did not understand why she had let them leave. She knew he would have attacked them had she ordered him to, without question.
“My lady, what is going on?” Leisa asked. Under the circumstances, Sorela did not admonish the girl’s impatient tone.
“Keep your voice down.” Thalus said. “Do you want my men to panic?”
Serafes—it did not matter which country they were from—were held in very high esteem among the common soldier. Sorela had heard firsthand how they spoke of Serafes in awe over camp fires.
They are only soldiers, she told herself. Bored, superstitious soldiers did like to spread fables. “Falan and Serin,” she whispered to Leisa, “will not side with us if violence becomes necessary against their countrymen. In fact, they may even be spies.”
Leisa seemed to take it in, though with some doubt. “But they seemed so loyal before?”
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Sorela’s lips quirked into a wry smile involuntarily. “The enemy is among us, child. We must—“
“My lady,” the captain interrupted. “I have prepared the column for the return of Falan Nogal and Serin. We should be ready for them when they arrive.”
She nodded. I certainly hope so, Sorela thought, Captain Commander of the Castle Guard. She wanted to trust he could handle these two men. She could not completely put aside some of her doubts. The guardsmen were as ready as they could be. Five remained to guard Leisa and herself as the others took up positions a few dozen paces away, as if seemingly holding down the camp, though in truth, when the two Serafes returned, they would encircle the two men as they approached. It was the captain’s idea to lay an ambush.
It would be a fight to the death.
The guardsmen—guardsboys more like—returning with the two men would immediately choose the side of the captain, and the hirelings would chose the side of their employer, making the two Serafes have to contend with very uneven odds. It was a good plan, but Sorela could not help but feel an air of nervousness. Was it fear? Would she use her powers to kill their attackers if need be? She had never had to do it before and did not want to start now. She might not be able to, even to save lives....
I am a mage of the Hall, she reminded herself. I do not kill.
“Lady mage,” the captain said. “What is to stop Falan and Serin from having my men killed as soon as they meet that patrol? They could ambush us on their way back.”
Possible, though unlikely. It would have been easy enough for either of the two men to sneak off during the night, or even send a bird... Unless they were useless fops. Serafes were not. No, the patrol would have ambushed them on the first, instead of waiting to be discovered by the captain’s outriders. There was something else at play here. She shook her head. “No, Captain. I think not.” Then to Leisa she said, “When the fighting starts, stay behind me.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Perhaps,” she told the younger woman. “But you will obey me.” She made her voice firm as she met Leisa’s eyes. She would not let the girl get herself killed just to prove herself, the wool brained little fool.
It’s good she has spirit. But now is not the time.