The blood-stained Serafes rode into the clearing, the other survivors close behind. Some of them were wounded.

Sorela had not expected them to return.

“Lady Mage,” Falan said, “We were forced to fight. The captain of the patrol—“

“Stay where you are, Serafe!” Captain Caldren bellowed. “Both of you!” He motioned to his men-at-arms. “All—on me!”

The men-at-arms, mounted and on foot, moved over to their side. The mercenaries returned confused glances, then obeyed, moving in to block the Serafes off.

Sorela saw Serin’s hand glide toward his sword hilt. There’s going to be blood, she thought reluctantly, but Falan shook his head minutely when he saw the other man moving for his sword.

“Crossbows!” The captain called, and a dozen men-at-arms at the edges of the camp narrowed in on the two Serafes.

Falan eyed the captain and herself carefully, seemingly confused. “My lady... What is this?”

“You know what this is, Falan Nogal,” she said, straightening in her saddle with a quick glance at Leisa beside her. “You are a Nelothan Serafe!”

Falan exhaled, glanced toward the other Serafe as if ruefully acknowledging something. She expected Falan to say something, but the man kept quiet. “Why do a pair of Serafes—men who are supposed to be loyal above all else—attack their own countrymen?” she asked.

“They attacked us,” Serin said sharply. “We only defended ourselves.”

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“Mind your tongue, sir,” Caldron said, his tone dangerous.

Sorela raised her hand. Something was not right, and bickering would solve nothing. We have to find out what this is, she told herself. “Why would they do that when you are both Serafes of the realm of Nelothar?”

“Lady Mage,” Falan said. “We do not have time to speak about this. The captain of that patrol escaped. He will return to his camp—and it will likely be a large camp—he will undoubtedly report to his commander of what happened.”

“They will hunt us down like dogs,” the other Serafe said.

The captain glanced at her. She could see uneasiness in the man’s grey-blue eyes. What was the right plan of action? Kill the two Serafes? Or not...and risk everything?

Diligence, she reminded herself. I’m not accustomed to making life and death decisions like these. She would choose a decision that would bring death—not now.

“Very well, Falan Nogal. As long as both of you agree to relinquish your swords—“

“No!” Serin snapped, a metallic his accompanying his objection.

Falan moved a hand to ward off the other man. “Serin—wait!”

The crossbowmen were ready to fill them with bolts at an eye blink from the captain. “If they try anything...anything! Kill them,” the Caldren hissed through his teeth. “That goes for you too, hirelings!”

They shifted uneasily.

“We are not going to do anything,” Falan said.

Wise choice, Sorela thought, but not wise enough... “If you will not give up your swords—“

Something traveled through the air beside them. Bodies jerked with surprise and heads swiveled.

“Ambush!” Falan bellowed, booting his mount without delay, Serin close behind him.

Men scrambled, screaming to meet their attackers. Sorela glanced toward Leisa. “Follow!” She booted her animal after the two Serafes. She had no choice but to leave the slumped captain behind as she and Leisa made for their escape during the confusion.

“But—but captain—“

“Follow, girl!” Sorela bellowed.

Trying to stay low, she made for the tree line, certain Leisa was close behind when dozens of cavalrymen burst from the thick evergreens. They mixed ranks and Leisa shrieked.

Sorela barely glimpsed a flash of steel before the ice-covered ground rushed up at her.