“Going overland, avoiding roads and towns as much as we can, I expect it to take us about two ten-days to get to Lorivin,” Allora repeated as they made final checks in the pre-dawn light. She looked longingly at the pack that held her armor and Mitchell knew how much she wished to wear it again, but that would be painting a target on their backs. She’d also freshly wrapped the pommel of her sword, hiding the gemstone from view.

As for Mitchell, Allora and Gilriel had made some small adjustments that made his new armor more comfortable and, after the last few days practicing in it, he was finally starting to get a feel for the extra weight and how it played with his reaction times. As a result, he was feeling much more confident. By reflex, he slipped his fingers over the cekip, feeling the full complement of six additional stones for each of his mana types, plus the ones in his sevith. His sword was also freshly sharpened and free in his scabbard.

Lethlin sat cross-legged on the picnic table, her bow across her knees and her pack slung over her back, waiting. She’d required a lot less packing and also didn’t seem as particular about what she was or wasn’t carrying as Allora or Mitchell.

“How likely is it that we start hitting patrols?” Mitchell asked.

Allora’s brow creased.

“It is hard to know for sure. Milandris’s mercenary forces are less organized or thorough than rangers, the crown guard, or the watch were, but they also know I am back in the country and will be on high alert. Plus, we can expect them to be actively scrying for my location. It will not take them long to figure out exactly where I am headed.”

“Not that they wouldn’t know anyway,” Lethelin said through a mouthful of dried fruit.

“True,” Allora grimaced. “If we are forced to detour it could add several days to the journey.”

“What if we just got jivis and rode like hell for the city?” Mitchell asked, suddenly having an idea.

“Rode like… what?” Allora asked, her face puzzled.

“The nine hells?” Lethelin asked, also confused.

Mitchell made a mental note. There were some things that didn’t translate at all, even when he used the right words.

“If we rode as fast as we could, stopping only long enough to rest horses and eat, and made all possible haste to the city, could we get there ahead of whatever forces they might send to follow you?”

“Oh!” Lethelin said in sudden understanding. “You mean what if we humped the fire drake!”

Allora snickered.

“We say lightning drakes in Lorivin,” the knight said.

Mitchell arched an eyebrow at the visuals but he thought he got it. He hadn’t actually seen a drake yet, but from what he understood, they were sort of like lesser dragons. Quasi-intelligent, voraciously hungry, and often had elemental attacks of some sort that were related to their breed, similar to their larger cousins.

“Sure,” he said with a laugh, “if we humped a drake.”

Allora paused to consider and Lethelin looked contemplative as well.

“It might work,” Allora said. “I had not considered it because, well, we do not have jivis.”

“Are they hard to get?” Mitchell asked.

“Not if you have the coin,” Lethelin said.

“Which we are in somewhat short supply of,” Allora added.

“I mean… I could get us jivis in any town we stop at,” Lethlin said. “Even Clayfaire. They have a stable with several.”

“You mean steal them,” Allora said, her voice flat.

“Steal, borrow with the intention of returning one day, take your pick.”

Allora expelled a breath through her nose and gave Lethelin a hard look.

“The people in that town don’t deserve to have their livelihood suffer just so we can make better time.”

“I think if the people in that town knew what we were about they would be offering up those jivis in gratitude. It’s not our fault that we can’t tell them.”

“It would still be theft,” Allora said, her voice getting testy.

“If we’re being technical, everything belongs to Mitchell, anyway. He’s the monarch,” Lethelin countered. “He’s just claiming what’s rightfully his.”

“That is–”

“How much time would we save?” Mitchell interjected, hoping not to start the day off with one of their moral arguments. “If we had the jivis?”

Allora looked at him almost like she’d forgotten he was there, which was so often the case when her and Lethelin started in on each other.

“Well… if we could do as you say, taking minimal rest each night, while still staying off the roads, I think we could be at the outskirts of Lorivin in five days. Maybe six.”

Both Mitchell’s eyebrows went up. Twenty days down to five or six.

“I think we have to take the jivis,” he told her. “We can be there well before they have a time to organize any effective search.”

“It is still stealing from good people, Mitchell,” Allora said, unhappiness plain in her tone.

“It is, but we’ll leave as much coin as we can spare with a note that either they will be returned or the value will be paid back as soon as we can. Assuming we live, that is.”

“Here, this should cover it,” Gilriel spoke up from behind them as she set a small purse down on the table next to Lethelin.

The trio turned and saw the middle-aged elf standing there in full traveling gear with a pack of her own, as well as a sword wrapped similarly to Allora’s. Mitchell smiled broadly at the sight.

Allora was more interested in her attire than in her offered coin.

“Gilriel, where are you going?

“I…” Gilriel started, then looked at Mitchell a moment, and pressed on. “I am going back to Lorivin.”

“That is… that is wonderful!” Allora exclaimed. “And there is enough there for four jivis?”

“No, just three,” she said. “I won’t be traveling with you. I have some contacts. Other knights who are… Let’s say who are on sabbatical like I was. They have long been out of the public eye and the world has forgotten about them, just as it forgot about me. I will attempt to recruit them to the cause.”

Allora suddenly looked worried.

“But your vow? You said you would never return.”

Gilriel shifted the weight on her back and looked uncomfortable.

“I realized last night that while I might have left the order behind, I never forsook my oath to Awen. She needs us. How could I do less than you, child?” Her eyes flicked to Mitchell, and he saw pain there, but also – oddly enough – gratitude. “You have never wavered in your duty or your commitment, despite everything the world has thrown at you. I should have realized that a lot sooner, and I am deeply sorry. My own petty anger kept me from seeing how foolish I was being.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Then Gilriel did something that stunned the lot of them, but Allora most of all. She pulled her sword and held it tip down, letting it come to rest in the soft earth, both hands on the pommel. Then she lowered herself to one knee and bowed her head. Mitchell and Lethelin merely stared at the display, but Allora gasped, took a step back, and her hand came to her mouth.

“I, Gilriel Ne Sarandar, pledge myself to your service, Allora De Annen, Lord Captain of the Onyx Knights, and the service of the monarch, Mitchell Theodore Allen, in the protection of Awen and her lands. Under Stollar’s holy light, in the shelter of Denass’s cold embrace, and by the glow of moons of fate, I will serve faithfully until either my soul is called home or you have no further use of me. So I do swear.”

“You…” Allora stuttered. “You cannot do that!”

Even in the weak light of morning, Mitchell could see that Allora had gone white as a sheet.

“You cannot! I… Mitchell, tell her she cannot do that!” There was a shrill note of panic in her voice that Mitchell wasn’t sure he’d ever heard before.

Mitchell looked from Allora to where Gilriel still kneeled, her head bowed.

“What did she do?” he asked, confused.

“She… She just named me Lord Captain of the Onyx Knights! Tell her she cannot!”

“It sounds like she just did,” Lethelin said, but Allora was so distraught by what Gilriel had apparently just done that she didn’t even acknowledge the words.

“Um, Gilriel? Is that something you have the authority to do?” Mitchell asked.

“Has my pledge been accepted?” Gilriel inquired from her spot on the ground.

“Yeah, sure,” Mitchell told her at almost the exact same moment that Allora shouted her own response.

“No!” Allora yelled but there was still more panic in her voice than any real anger.

“Thank you, my lord,” Gilriel replied, ignoring Allora’s denial. “I promise to serve with honor and distinction.”

Gilriel rose smoothly and sheathed her sword in one smooth motion, her bearing one of stiff military formality.

“And, to answer my lord’s question, before I left Lorivin, I was on the Council of Eight. One of our duties was the appointing of the Lord Captain in the event of a vacancy. Since I am the only member of the Council that is still alive, and I was never formally removed from that position, then yes, I am authorized to appoint a new Lord Captain. Unless you would like to object, my Lord Monarch. You have the right to deny the appointment.”

“No, no. Um… Fine with me.”

“You cannot,” Allora said, her voice almost pleading now. “Please, Gilriel.”

The strength went out of Allora’s legs, and she fell almost boneless to the ground. A look of motherly concern washed over Gilriel’s features, and she went to the crumpled woman, who was staring off in shock into the distance but not seeing anything. Gilriel knelt down again and took Allora’s face gently in her hands and forced the weeping knight to look at her.

“You listen to me, Allora De Annen. If I had every Lord Captain in the history of the order standing before me now, I would still name you to the position. From the first, Lydia De Balgruff, who pulled the order together in those chaotic days with her own blood and tears, all the way to your father. I would look each of them in the eye and I would tell them that there is none more worthy. And by Stollar’s swinging cock, they would all agree!

“What you have done defies comprehension. You and you alone have stood against the might of the usurper, and through the power of your will alone, you are bringing a new monarch to the throne. And if we win back the city, there is no one else who I would rather see rebuild the knights than you, Allora. There has never been a knight more worthy. I swear it by Stollar’s holy light. Do you understand me?”

Allora sniffed.

“But how?” Allora asked, her voice trembling. “I never even attended my graduation ceremony! It wasn’t scheduled for another month when Milandris came.”

“The ceremony is a formality, Allora,” Gilriel told her gently. “You were a knight the moment you soul-bonded your sword. Do you think Lydia De Balgruff had a graduation ceremony as she built the Knights one recruit at a time? Do you think Belgarion Ne Riva had a graduation ceremony during the war with Iletish when Lord Captain Sparkhawk fell? No, of course they didn’t. They were knights who did what needed to be done. Their actions spoke the truth of their worthiness, not a graduation ceremony. Just as they have with you. Now, rise, Allora De Annen, Lord Captain of the Onyx Knights.”

There was a note of authority and reverence in Gilriel’s tone, and it seemed to resonate somewhere inside Allora. Mitchell watched as her back stiffened and her face firmed. Even sitting on the ground she appeared to grow taller.Gilriel noticed it, too and she smiled.

Brushing off the last of her tears, she took Gilriel’s hand and they rose together. Then Gilriel took a step back and started to bow before she looked over at Lethelin who was still sitting wide-eyed on the picnic table, a half-eaten piece of fruit frozen about three inches from her mouth.

“Girl,” Gilriel said, her voice low and hard, “if you don’t get up off that skinny ass of yours and bow before the Lord Captain, I will tan your backside so thoroughly that you will curse the day your mother ever met your father. Do I make myself clear?”

Once Lethelin saw that Gilriel was not joking it was her turn to go pale. All that came out of her throat was a strangled squeak, and then she was up off the table like it had burned her, joining the elder knight in a low bow.

Allora looked a little flustered at the attention, but she stood, back straight and proud, and accepted their gesture with grace and dignity.

“Thank you, both of you,” she said.

The two women stood, Gilriel with a broad smile and Lethelin looking like she’d just swallowed something slimy. Mitchell went up to her and took her hand and kissed it.

“Lord Captain Allora De Annen,” Mitchell said with a smile. “I like the sound of that.”

Allora blushed and squeezed his hand tightly.

“Do you really think I can do it?” she asked him, her voice somewhere between excited and fearful.

“I know you can,” he said as he brought his forehead to hers. “One foot in front of the other…”

“Gets you where you’re going,” she completed the phrase.

“Just so!” Gilriel said, enthusiastically. “Just so. I rather like that saying.”

***

“Once you get inside the city, I want you to find an inn called The Mighty Nine,” Gilriel explained as they left the grove behind. “The innkeeper is an old friend and was one of my agents when I was still at the palace. Her name is Cenedra.”

Gilriel caught the question forming on Allora’s lips before she could speak and knew what she was going to ask.

“Don’t worry, she’s still there. We exchange letters two or three times a year. Before you go into the inn you will need to buy three blue flax lilies and tie them with a yellow ribbon. Then, ask for Cenedra and give them to her. Tell her they’re in memory of her aunt Leesha. She’ll know what to do after that. When I get back to the city, hopefully with a few other knights at my back, I’ll go to the inn myself. Leave word with her about where you’re staying, and I’ll know where to find you when I arrive. I don’t expect to be more than a few days behind you. I already sent messages, and they’ve agreed to meet me at a town a few days from Lorivin.”

Mitchell nodded.

“Sounds easy enough,” he said and repeated the bit of information back to her to demonstrate he had it.

They pressed on for another hour as the sun continued to brighten the land. At some point, Mitchell noticed that Lethelin was lagging behind the rest of them. Leaving Gilriel and Allora to discuss things among themselves, Mitchell slowed and allowed her to come even with him.

“Copper for your thoughts?”

She glanced at him hesitantly and then he saw her eyes track forward to where the two knights were deep in conversation.

“I’m happy for Allora. Really, I am but…”

“But you’re feeling left out? She got the new title and all?”

“It sounds stupid when you say it like that.”

“No, I know what you mean,” Mitchell told her and took her hand in his. “I haven’t forgotten what we talked about,” Mitchell told her, referring to her feeling like she would be passed over if they retook the city. “So, I guess that just means I need a title for you, also.”

She gave him sidelong glance.

“I don’t need charity. I do just fine on my own.”

“And I’m not offering charity,” Mitchell reassured her. “But something Gilriel said earlier got me thinking. This Cenedra woman was, or is maybe, an agent. Agent as in spies, espionage, assassinations, all of that. I will need agents and contacts. Stollar’s balls, I will probably need an assassin or two. And I will need someone smart, deadly, and shockingly sexy that I trust above all others to manage that.”

Mitchell could see a flush start at her cheeks and a smile start to form that she was unsuccessful in hiding behind her look of stubborn indignation.

“That is true,” she said. “You would need someone with those qualities.”

“Mmhmm. Someone efficient, calculating, and brutal when the situation calls for it. Allora is many things, all of them amazing, but she can’t do what you can do, Leth. Nor would I want her to try. I only need you to be you.”

Her hand squeezed his and that was enough of a response.

“So,” he said after a few minutes. “What should your new title be? Spy Master? The Spider? The Shadow Keeper?”

Lethelin wrinkled her nose at that and wobbled her head.

“What was it you said Vras called me? Mual?

“Maula,” Mitchell corrected. “Gilriel said it meant ‘hunter’ in Waivian.”

“I like that name. My secret title will be Maula to my contacts and underlings. The ones who will only know me by reputation, never who I actually am or that I work for the crown. It should be the name that people fear. I will need an official title to justify my position in court.”

“Hmm…” Mitchell said, liking the idea more and more. “How about ‘Minister of Information’. It sounds official and diplomatic.”

She nodded.

“I like it. So, by day I’ll be your Minister of Information but my real work will be done in the shadows under the name Maula.”

“The Maula,” Mitchell corrected. “Sounds more sinister.”

Lethelin agreed.

“But…” Lethelin started to ask and then her voice trailed off.

“But what?”

“I don’t suppose Minister of Information outranks a Lord Captain, does it? Could we make Allora bow to me?”

Mitchell barked a laugh.

“You’re welcome to try,” he told her. “But make sure I’m well clear of any sort of blast radius before you do.”

She grinned.

“Fair enough.”