Alysia ran her eye over the half of the Seventh Seal she’d been given command of with an exasperated eye.
How did Daveth do it? He pointed, they ran. He commanded, they went. Whenever they separated for maneuvers, they fell in with whatever idea he had.
Today it was her responsibility to run her portion of the Seal against Lynnabel’s. Nobody knew Lynnabel as well as her sister, so she was certain she would be able to out-maneuver her, except that the files moved too sluggishly, they responded to changes in tactics too slowly, and she could never seem to time a calvary’s “push” correctly.
The fact that Lynnabel seemed to be struggling with the same problems didn’t help her, because bafflingly, even with the handicap, Lynnabel always remained elusively one step ahead of her.
“How did you do it, sister?” Alysia complained, briskly unlatching the straps and buckles of her armor and hurling it, piece by piece, into the corner where it clattered in resonance with her temper.
Lynnabel eyed Alysia’s petulance with a raised eyebrow. “I must ask you the same, sister. You very nearly had me when you called for the rush during the interdiction with the fifth files.”
“Oh, now you say words to console me on my ‘almost victory’, when all of my troops were ‘dead’!” Alysia complained. “I demand to see your battle maps!”
Lynnabel blinked at the demand. “I did not prepare any, sister.”
With a wordless scream, Alysia hurled herself at her sister as her temper got the best of her. Lynnabel met her blow for blow, and the two of them tumbled to the floor in the tent, each punching each other in the head repeatedly.
As the two lay panting on the floor of their shared living space, Lynnabel thumbed blood from a corner of her mouth and licked it. Her sister was hotheaded and vicious and always seemed to know where to hit to be most effective.
“I kept asking myself, in my head, ‘Were I Alysia, how might I attack?’” Lynnabel began, stifling a groan. Despite Lynnabel wearing armor, Alysia had managed to break at least one of Lynnabel’s ribs. While it would heal overnight, she simmered in her anger. Lynnabel was too strong by half.
Wherever Lynnabel maneuvered, Alysia was there, blocking the cavalry. Lynnabel would push infantry, only to be hit with waves of leather-softened arrows. Alysia had strategy down pat, but she was too hasty, too quick to anger.
She herself judged herself too slow, too weak. Too unwilling to commit bodies. She wanted to plan more, she wanted her forces dispositioned just so, so that when they encountered the enemy they could gain an overwhelming advantage.
But her troops were sluggish to respond to on-the-fly changes in maneuvers. She had no idea how Lord Captain Aldric and Lord Commander Daveth were able to simply wave their hand and smash the opposition.
“I don’t understand how the Lord Captain and Lord Commander can simply wave their hand and achieve victory.” Alysia complained bitterly.
Lynnabel smiled. They were sisters, they thought the same things and felt the same way. She reached over and touched her sister’s face.
“We are Silvers. We get what we want. We build the strength we need to win, we don't give up, and we keep trying, changing strengths, changing strategies, again and again. That's what being a Silver is all about." She reassured her sister.
Alysia nodded, winced, and rolled over. “Did you need to break my arm, sister?” Alysia complained. “It’s quite possible that the Lord Commander will see this.”
“It’s quite possible you got two of my ribs, sister, so I don’t think you have any right to complain.” Lynnabel retorted.
“Right, saying I got your ribs- you’re still wearing armor.” Alysia rolled her eyes sarcastically.
The two lay in their respective silences for some time, comfortable in the moment, comfortable in each others’ presence.
“Do you suppose that The Lord Captain and the Lord Commander use hand signals we’re not aware of to order the troops?” Alysia suddenly mused.
Lynnabel blinked. She hadn’t thought of that. There were signals, yes, but since She and Alysia had served in the vanguard of the infantry, there hadn’t been any need to pay attention to signals meant for the other files.
It was obvious in retrospect, really. The Lord Captain or the Lord Commander would make a call, their hands would wave, and the troops would move. It was like that when they were on the road in between jobs, as well.
“How could we have missed something so simple?” Lynnabel muttered irritably. “They probably had no idea what we were trying to order them to do.”
“Fuck.” Alysia swore angrily, causing Lynnabel to raise an eyebrow. Her hotheaded sister was quick with the human need for profanity.
Lynnabel pinched the bridge of her nose suddenly as a spike of pain lanced through her skull. At the same time, Alysia rolled to her feet dexterously.
“Something-” She began, but Lynnabel felt it too, a subtle tremor in the ground.
“Get the-” Alysia began, but Lynnabel was already moving. “I’ll get the troops. You get to higher ground. Your arm’s broken, we’ll need someone to call out dispositions.”
The two sisters left their quarters at a run.
*****
The troops were arranged in a protective pattern around the Tross, and away from the buildings as the ground rumbled beneath their feet. The building their captain and commander had used as a command post sank into the ground, crumbling as it went.
Part of the collapsed city sank into the ground all at once, splitting the streets and sending horse-sized chunks of stone tumbling into an abyss that opened as if by magic.
A creature, a monster, a thing that was so titanic and massive that it defied explanation, defized size itself launched itself from the collapsing hole, a sinuous, serpentine thing with four massive feathery wings and a beaked head that could have gulped down the entirety of the Seventh Seal and their new allies with scarcely a thought. It beat powerfully into the air, crackles of power sheeting across its feathery form. As it gained altitude, the pressure from the blasts of wind lessened, and the troops were able to regain their footing.
The thing screamed in triumph as it gained the skies, a keening screech that shattered the eardrums of most of the Seal. Some of the soldiers vomited blood, and the quartermaster keeled over dead on the spot, his lungs liquified, his heart burst in his chest.
The beast launched itself further skyward and the sky itself opened up, a blazing sea of burning blue and brilliant pinks. Strange eyes glared out at the world with hungry dispositions as the magical beast opened the path for its return home. It slipped into the gap, swimming through the air like a fish in the sea, and vanished amidst a thunderstorm of lightning and a crackle of sonic booms.
Everyone stared in shock at what happened, but Alysia was the first to shout, the first to take command. She immediately called for healing and support; the Seventh Seal was not in any fighting condition and they needed to rectify that as quickly as possible.
She wanted to send troops to investigate where the command post had collapsed, but in order to do that, she needed soldiers that were capable of following orders.
*****
After the troops had been healed up and an accounting taken of their dead, Lynnabel and Alysia held a conference, just the two of them.
“Lord Commander Daveth and Morden were supposed to be on patrol. What happened to them?” Lynnbel asked as she stepped into the tiny room.
Alysia shook her head. “No traces.”
Lynnabel frowned. “We need them. We will need to establish search parties.”
“Many of the buildings nearby collapsed, as well as the command post that Lord Captain Aldric, Lord Commander Malacath, and Lady Commander Yukiko were using.” She paused. “It’s looking like a complete loss of the command structure.”
Alysia frowned. “Lord Commander Daveth did leave us in command...” she trailed off.
“No. According to the tenets of our Order, we are not allowed to hold command positions in a standing army that is not comprised of our sisters.” Lynnabel disagreed sharply.
“I am aware of the Tenets of Honor, sister.” Alysia agreed. “But what do you suggest? We take the Seventh Seal to our demesne? Or is it that we abandon the Seventh Seal?” She disputed.
“We cannot do either, sister.” Lynnabel reminded her.
“I know that!” Alysia agreed hotly. “What can we do?”
Lynnabel sighed, and lightly rapped her knuckles on the table they’d salvaged from the ruins. Lynnabels fingermarks were still pressed into the wood from when she lifted it as a demonstration of her strength to Lord Commander Daveth years prior.
“We should... gather the file leaders together. Have them elect a leader, or whatever it is that humans do in situations like this.” She paused. “As they are not proper Lords, however, I do not think we can rightfully swear our swords to them.” She finished quietly.
“Tell them to create their own chain of command and then desert them? Have you taken leave of your senses?” Alysia disputed.
“We are not them. They are not us.” Lynnabel replied coolly. “Do not forget your place, sister. In all of the world, there is the Order, and then there is everyone else.”
Alysia’s face twisted up as if she’d eaten one of the Lord Commander’s beloved pickles. “We have served alongside them for so long, sister.” She muttered in a low voice. “Some of them have come to rely on us.”
“We cannot accept responsibility of those that do not belong to the Order, sister. We cannot lead them.” Lynnabel stated flatly. “It is not our place to lead them.”
Alysia frowned again. “Then we should use what time we have left with them to its fullest. We should direct them to discovering the remains of the Lord Commander and Lord Captain, at least.”
Lynnabel nodded. “At last, something we can agree on, sister.” She replied, warmth suffusing her voice.
Ropes were secured over the massive chasm that Aldric, Malacath and Yukiko had disappeared into, and search parties descended into the crevasse. The men, women, and elves of the Seventh Seal descended into the abyss to look for their captain, while patrols were sent out to look for Commander Daveth.
The Therannian elves used earth magic to collapse fallen rubble into sand, wind mages shifted the sand and swirled it into dunes away from the locations they were searching. Men and women hauled away at chunks of rubble, pieces of stone, chunks of paving as they attempted to look for signs of their late captain.
Some wanted to give in to despair, others would remind them that Aldric had done the same for their companions, and would have done the same for them, therefore it was their responsibility to do the same for him.
As the rubble was cleared away, a shout rose up from the pit; Commander Daveth had been found.
The healers swarmed over him, trying to resuscitate himHe coughed and rolled over and spat blood and they helped him to his feet.
“Where’s the captain? Where’s the Priestess? Where’s Malacath?” Everyone bombarded him with questions as he struggled to his feet.
Covering his arms, from shoulder to wrist was a series of black markings like tattoos, all jagged lines and whorls and knots. He stared at the people that had come to dig out their bodies, blinking slowly in the light. He looked up; the piled rubble that had covered the gaping crevice had shattered as the magical beast had rocketed out from its stony tomb.
“I tossed them that way.” He indicated, pointing towards one of the sewer tunnels that jutted out from the abyss.
The rescue parties surged in that direction, and true to Daveth’s word, Malacath, Teryl, Aldric and the Shrine Priestess Yukiko were stuffed inside one of the tunnels.
*****
Aldric glared at Daveth from his cot in the medical tent.
“You’re not supposed to throw your commanding officer.” He glared at the giant.
Daveth shrugged. “You could be buried under all that rubble, you know.”
Aldric rolled his eyes. “You don’t throw your commanding officer. That’s a hard and fast rule.”
Daveth waved his hand. “Fuck you.” He replied casually. “A simple toss and everyone made it out alive.”
“Except you.” Aldric pointed out. Daveth blinked at him. “Did I die in there?”
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Aldric seesawed his hand. “I heard that Malacath’s healers had to restart your heart. So... yeah. I’d say you did.”
“So this is the afterlife, hmmm?” Daveth decided, and thumbed his chin. “Kind of... not what I expected it to look like.”
“You’re on two weeks of latrine duty.” Aldric snapped at him.
“I made a command decision.” Daveth stated. “The Seventh Seal needs its captain.”
Aldric lay back on his cot and folded his hands together on his chest. He tapped his thumbs together meditatively.
“And they don’t need you?” He asked after a few minutes.
Daveth shook his head. “You’ll find ten thousand men that’ll be a better commander than me.” Daveth replied, and pushed his way out of the tent.
Aldric scowled at that. “And not one of them would be as mysterious as you.” He muttered, remembering the giant bolting across rubble, eyes ablaze, skin a dull red that defied the dim light.
Over and over he replayed in his mind what had happened.
Daveth had gone off to speak with Malacath and Yukiko alone, and suddenly there was a massive rumbling, an earthquake beyond earthquakes, and suddenly Daveth was there, a giant, a beast, a monster of a man. His eyes blazed infernal, and his grip was savage and implacable. Daveth hadn’t said anything, he’d simply snatched up Aldric and heaved him into the air. Aldric didn’t even have time to scream before something struck his head and darkness claimed him.
He’d woken up in the sewer tunnel, next to the bodies of the Yamato priestess, the two elves, and Morden, who dripped blood onto his face from a nasty head wound.
How long had he waited in the black as time marched onward relentlessly? He couldn’t move; something hard was pressing into his back, making his legs numb and unresponsive. His breathing was shallow from the weight of Morden atop him.
Was this to be the end of his career? Buried alive beneath tons of bedrock? He wanted to scream, but couldn’t draw enough breath to do so.
He fumbled at his waist; he at least wanted to die with his sword in his hand. Stupid notion, foolish notion, but he was a man, and he wanted to die like one.
An infinity of time later, and he found himself waking in the medical tent, with mages hovering over him.
Daveth had somehow survived being buried under tons of rubble, but Morden, stuffed into the tunnel atop Aldric, had come out worse than anyone. His leg had been broken in so many places that the healers couldn’t put it back together correctly. He’d never fight infantry, he couldn’t fight in the cavalry. He’d have to retire as the new quartermaster of the Tross.
That hurt the most. Morden had been shaping up to be a fitting replacement should Daveth fall. He was quick-witted, resourceful, and he had tolerable vices. Now it was likely that he’d never fight again.
“Call Daveth, Malacath, and Yukiko in here.” Aldric ordered one of the healers, a green-eyed, red-headed elf with a quick smile and a way of using her hands that brought a smile to his face.
She nodded and dashed off.
He started with Daveth, because the giant couldn’t find a seat in the room without crushing it. Besides, the man never sat on his thumbs, as far as Aldric could see.
“Status of the Seal?” He asked, and Daveth nodded. “Everyone’s been accounted for. We can break camp at your notice.”
He looked to Yukiko. “And you? Your Shrine Maidens?”
She gave him a sour look. “We’re fine. With that magical beast gone, stability is returning to the land. We can set up a Shrine anytime.”
Aldric gave her a skeptical eye. “Anywhere?”
She gave a seesaw motion with her hand- was everyone going to do that?- “We’ve found a spot in the mountains nearby that seems to be ideal.”
Morden hobbled in, leaning on a cane. Aldric gave him a bitter look; the man should be strutting, not hobbling. “Just wanted to mention, cap, there hasn’t been a peep from the Angel’s kingdom. Either they’re afraid, or they’re boiling from the inside out and have no time to look at us.”
“That can change.” Daveth, Aldric, and Yukiko all replied, nearly simultaneously.
Morden glanced at each of them in turn, and nodded.
Yukiko crossed her legs and rested her hands primly on her knee. “If you’ll give me permission, I’ll send a couple of Maidens into their city and get an idea of what they’re up to.”
Aldric waved his hand lazily. “Since when have you needed permission to do what you plan on doing anyway without my permission?” He replied in an exasperated voice. She shrugged indifferently.
He looked to Malacath, as Yukiko and Morden stepped out of the tent, talking in low voices.
“Your troops?” he asked, and the elf nodded. “We’re not nearly as used to.... Roughing it... as you are, but I will make sure we are ready to leave as soon as you are.”
Aldric let out a tense sigh and stared at his folded hands. He tapped his thumbs together.
“Normally, we’d fall back to Tannit to lick our wounds, resupply, and consider our opportunities. But we have a chance here to avoid a long and expensive trip.” He looked to Malacath. “We never had a formal talk on the matter, but how about it? The Seal could use you and your men and women.”
The elf glanced at Aldric and Daveth, and it was obvious that he was giving it some thought.
“Your men have been hospitable and attentive, and they’ve pointed out some...” his eyebrows rose as he continued, “surprising flaws in our battle strategies.” He let out a terse sight as his gold-flecked eyes roamed around the tent. “My men and I...” He shrugged. “We’re running from a madman, Captain Aldric. A man whose ear has been polluted by the voices of demons. I thought to myself, “We’ll find a new land, far away from where we called home, far from his reach.” He paused again and rolled his eyes. “Frankly, I think we were too hasty. What does a soldier know of herding sheep? Making bread? Building houses?” He shook his head again and spread his hands. “We have no nation, no flag, and ... no purpose. All we know how to do is swing our swords.” He let out a sigh. “As long as your cause is a righteous one, we will be glad to call ourselves members of the Seventh Seal.”
“Troop dispositions.” Daveth piped up, and Aldric rolled his eyes.
“Now? Really?” He complained.
“We’re exposed and vulnerable. Regardless of what the Shrine Priestess says, sooner or later, someone will come from the Angel’s kingdom. Now that we’ve dislodged the Shrine Maidens from our asses, I say we put some space between us and them.” Daveth advised. “A hundred miles, either south or east.”
“When did you start speaking with words?” Aldric wondered.
“When I started listening to you, shit-for-brains.” Daveth shot back, pulling out his pipe and thumbing it full of tobacco.
“There will definitely need to be a ... period of adjustment... for myself and my men.” Malacath offered. “We’re not used to such... informality in the ranks.”
Aldric rolled his eyes. “Daveth can get away with it because he’s part of the command... as you will be. You’ll always have the right to question my ideas and orders... all the way up to the point where I put my foot down and make the command decision. It’s important to consider different points of view before executing a plan. But once I’ve made the call, I expect you to fall in and do it.”
Malacath nodded.
*****
A full week had passed, and the Seventh Seal hadn’t moved an inch. Part of it was Aldric’s and Morden’s recovery, part of it was taking the time to integrate Malacath’s forces into the Seventh Seal more fully, but really, most of it was relief and exhaustion.
Whatever the magical monster had done, it had wound people up to the point of high tension and irritability, where tempers flared and knives were drawn to settle the simplest of arguments. The sudden loss of that tension was almost cathartic. People could sleep again. Deep, relaxing, restful sleep. Just that alone was enough for celebration.
Kirilae was a scout in the Seventh Seal. She’d been a member of the Seal for several years; had joined up with them when they were defending Garen’s Wall, in fact. She was one of the elves that preferred to eat, sleep, and associate with other elves within the mercenary band. It wasn’t out of a sense of superiority or inferiority; to her, humans were humans, elves were elves, and that was that. You didn’t see robins flocking together with crows. So she followed her orders, she stuck by her fellow soldiers, and she was certain that she was going to die shrieking in the forgotten city of Ankar-Set when the swarms came.
She didn’t understand why some of the other elves associated with humans. It baffled her why they bred with humans. Wasn’t that disrespectful of your ancestors?
Someone- a human, most likely- grabbed her by the back of her jerkin and yanked her out of the path of a ferocious jet of molten rock when the magma-hound attacked when they were under the mountain in the Shaper’s land.
She could understand serving with humans, trading with humans, but befriending them? Marrying them? Certainly not.
How long had it been since she’d seen another place with her kind? Years, probably. The Yamato liked to think of themselves as elves, but they weren’t, not truly. They interbred with humans and who knew what else.
And now, something new: These elves from Therannia. From the way they spoke, Therannia must have been an amazing place, an entire country populated only with elves. She wanted to see that, at least once.
It wasn’t likely to happen, there was more mercenary than man in Aldric, let alone that giant of a human, Daveth. If there wasn’t a percentage in going, Therannia would be a far-off dream, something to tell her kinfolk about when she retired.
Audra had been a fine leader to follow as a fellow scout... all the way up until she seduced the commander, crawling into his bed like a bitch in heat.
For now, the leadership of the scouts was provisionally in her hands. She would follow in her predecessor’s footsteps- with the exception of sleeping with the commander.
Audra had somehow gotten the scouts guns. She was glad of that, even if half the scout file had died in the wash of flame from the Angel Queen’s wrath. The commander had seen to that one. That was something that haunted her nightmares. He was so brutal and primitive, it was hard to see him laughing and joking with the rest of the Seal. From time to time she considered that the man should be bound in chains and only loosed when it was time for war.
Dawn was coming, and she could see the metallic glint of light on metal. An army was approaching. She narrowed her eyes and tried to pick out the banner.
Black armor with gold highlights. The flag itself was black, and the device on it-
She turned and called down to her partner, who was struggling to stay awake.
“Human! Run and give the armcry! An army is approaching!”
The man pulled out a short horn and let loose a few brassy peals from it.
“Any banner?” He called up.
“Gold wolfshead on black.” She called back down.
*****
Daveth was lecturing Alysia as they sparred.
“While flexible, the human body really only has a limited number of ways it can move.” He lectured. He looped his arm around hers, twisted, and forced her down so that her arm bent backward. “Connect a circle to a line-” He kicked out her feet from under her and she hit the ground on her chest. “-and you eat dirt for breakfast.” He finished simply.
“I had breakfast already, Lord Commander.” Alysia argued sourly.
“Second helpings, then.” He replied, and offered her a hand up.
She took it, and allowed him to pull her to her feet.
“Again, Lord Commander, but this time let me-” She began, but Daveth was looking off into the distance.
She followed his gaze and stiffened. “Sisters. Gold Sisters.” She breathed.
“An attack?” Daveth guessed.
She shook her head. “I do not think so, Lord Commander.”
“Let’s go say hello, then.” He replied, and suiting action to word, set off towards them.
There was a hundred Wolf sisters in armor that was lacquered black, with a wolfshead in gold leaf on the breastplate. There were very few differences between them. They were all as tall as Aldric, they all had blonde hair and golden eyes.
At the head of this procession however was a Gold sister unlike the others. She moved with the grace of a dancer, with the grace of a viper, the grace of a killer. Her golden hair was bound in a massive, thick braid that hung nearly to her ankles. Her most striking feature was that she came up to Daveth’s chin. Her eyes flicked about, weighing, assessing the Seventh Seal that stood around her and her soldiers.
As Daveth approached, she arched an eyebrow and shifted her position slightly.
Daveth himself waved his hand and called for the Seal to stand down. He knew, somehow understood that having to order his men to stand down was less imposing than her own subtle, guarded signals. He hadn’t even greeted her and somehow he’d already lost face.
The woman rapped her breastplate with her left fist in a salute; Daveth did the same, and then they silently stood a few feet apart and appraised each other.
“I’m Daveth, I’m the commander of the Seventh Seal.” He announced, and moved forward, his hand extended. Even though her eyes never left his face, he was certain she was aware of every gesture he made.
“Matron Merillele.” She replied, and gestured at the ranks of Gold Sisters behind her. “Of the Order of the Wolf.”
“My captain has been hoping to work with your order since we arrived.” Daveth began, his hand still outstretched in greeting.
“Of course.” She replied without taking his. Her canines were sharp in her wide smile.
A number of different conversation tactics flickered through his mind; he discarded them because he somehow understood she would discard them.
“The beast is gone.” He stated instead.
“I’m sure.” She replied, her eyes never leaving his face. After a long pause, she continued, “I wanted to see who it was that accomplished such a feat.”
“And now you have.” Daveth returned simply.
She raised an eyebrow at this. “First, an encounter with the Shapers, and now an encounter with the Beast of Philippa. What comes afterword?”
“The next job.” He replied, struggling to figure out exactly how he should act with her. He hoped Aldric was on his way, and that he’d bothered to look presentable. This woman seemed to be observant as hell, taking great stock in the slightest movement, gesture, each word and sentence and how it was phrased, the subtle intonations and inflections.
In short, Daveth was painfully aware that one hundred and one pairs of eyes were intently watching his slightest move, searching for the slightest weakness in posture or speech.
His eyebrow twitched as he gestured with his hand. “Is this how the Matron of the Order of the Wolf receives a greeting?” He asked in a lower tone, and a half smile touched her lips. She took his hand and placed her other atop it.
“My apologies. It’s a pleasure to take your acquaintance, Lord Commander.” She replied.
What was the word the Duchess had used, back then? Ah.
“I’ll escort you to the Captain of the Seventh Seal.” He offered, and she nodded and then added, “looking like that?”
“Morning sparring with Alysia.” Daveth replied, falling into the cadence of her words as he turned towards the new command post.
“Has she beaten you yet?” She asked quietly. He choked back a snort and turned it into a smirk.
“Nobody has, yet. Well, alone.” He explained.
“Shall I be the first?” She asked, looking up at him.
He could take her up on her offer. She was tall, he could feel the powerful strength that hid behind her femininity. She could trade blows with him on an even level, he was certain. She had the strength and leverage to put him in the dirt.
But there was something else. There had to be a reason that the Matron, a woman that Aurene, Orelia, Alysia and Lynnabel all revered as the head of their sorority would come to meet them.
Choosing his words carefully without knowing why, only knowing that it needed to be done, he answered, “That certainly does sound like fun, but... are you sure you’re prepared for the consequences? I can’t imagine it would be good for morale for one hundred Gold Sisters to see their Matron pounded into the dirt on her first introduction to the Seventh Seal. How about we put it off for a later visit?”
The Matron burst into delighted laughter at this provocation. “Yes, let’s put it off for another time.” she agreed, patting his hand.
“So where is it that the Seventh Seal will head next?” She asked curiously.
“I’m guessing south, but it’s the Captain’s call.” Daveth replied, acutely aware of the Wolf Sisters marching in parade step behind them.
“What awaits you to the south?”
He could listen to her voice all day, he decided, but answered as honestly as he could. “Our next job, I think.”
“Hmm.” She replied.
“And what brings you here?” Daveth asked.
“I wanted to see if the Seventh Seal was a threat.” She offered simply.
“We’re not. We’ll be out of Philippa, one way or another, soon enough.” He replied.
She nodded. “Your men certainly are no threat to us.” and sent him a look that he pretended to miss. He knew what she was insinuating.