That shouldn't make them so cold, Alusair decided as she watched a lone falcon soar up into the twilight. It moved out from the forest's edge and circled idly over the camp. Occasionally, the bird of prey shrieked. The noise echoed mournfully in the warm early summer's night.
The princess sighed and turned toward her tent, wondering over the fact that Torg had sent a letter to Azoun agreeing to supply troops to the crusade at the end of winter, almost four months past. The year was soaring by as quickly as the bird overhead.
The dwarven sentry that Alusair passed on the way to camp only nodded. Apart from a few softly spoken orders and the unavoidable noise made setting up tents and building watchfires, the camp was silent. Once, Alusair had found the peace and quiet relaxing; now it left her too much time to think. That was the last thing she wanted.
Azoun's actions had puzzled the princess and made her, perhaps, a bit sad. She'd certainly expected the conflict over her leaving home. However, Alusair hadn't believed it possible her father would admit she had control of her own life. She had been ready to take the moral high ground in the dispute, ready to prove to the king how her actions weren't so very different from his own as a youth. She looked at the signet ring Azoun had left with her and cursed.
Her father's less dogmatic attitude toward her independence might have meant an easy reconciliation a few months ago, but not after what Alusair had seen in the dwarves' camp. Her father had openly allied with orcs, creatures of evil. She saw the alliance as the unpardonable product of moral backsliding for political ends. Now Alusair wasn't even sure she wanted to be reconciled with Azoun; he really didn't seem like the good, noble man she remembered from four years ago.
What should I do? she wondered, reviewing the painful question in her mind. No easy answer came.
The princess finally reached her darkened tent. For a moment, she considered contacting Vangerdahast and Azoun using the ring, but decided against it. Instead, she lay on her blankets and listened to the falcon cry out in the growing darkness. Alusair concluded from the lessening sound that the bird was moving back toward the forest. She could still hear the shrill sounds of its call as she drifted off to sleep.
The rain that fell that night didn't wake Alusair, but she felt the cold and damp in her joints when she awoke the next morning. The day dawned gray and cloudy, and a light drizzle fell over the camp. With as little emotion as they showed at most other times, the troops from Earthfast broke camp and moved on. Alusair joined them, sullenly and silently.
The next three days and nights passed the same way. The dwarves marched anywhere from ten to fifteen miles a day, quite a feat for a group of two thousand soldiers and a train of supplies. Alusair was certain that Azoun's troops would cover no more than five miles in the same time. The dwarves were much better organized and rarely stopped to rest or to eat. They used fewer wagons than the humans, too, which allowed them greater mobility. The few stout wooden conveyances they did have were pulled by hearty little mountain ponies or mules. Most of the dwarves carried heavy loads in addition to their weapons and armor.
By the second tenday of what she considered a forced march, Alusair started to wonder if she'd be able to keep up. She did, though she paid for the pace every night in sore muscles and blistered feet.
Each night, the princess wearily studied the woods to the east before collapsing into a deep sleep. Falcons seemed to follow the camp, and Alusair found that watching the beautiful birds of prey soar in the sky was quite relaxing. It made her feel free and, more importantly, allowed her to forget her troubles, if only for a little while.
On one particular night, the princess sat in the warm darkness a hundred yards from the edge of camp, closer to the trees. A falcon lofted overhead. She wondered for a moment if the bird was the same one she'd seen on the first night they camped outside the forest. It's possible, Alusair decided after watching the bird turn lazy circles in the sky. The dwarves were scaring up enough field mice and rabbits in their trek across the rolling farmlands to keep a dozen such birds well fed.
Without warning, Alusair's signet ring began to glow brightly. The princess shielded the light with her hand; in the growing darkness, the ring might be an unwanted beacon to creatures prowling around the camp. Every camp attracted scavengers-wolves, jackals, and other, more exotic monsters. Alusair had enough campaign experience to know that it was very unwise to underestimate such creatures.
Allie?
The princess looked at the ring, puzzled. She had heard her father's voice in her head. Usually Alusair was comfortable with magic, but this was something she had never experienced before.
Princess? Can you hear us? This time the words were Vangerdahast's. An annoying buzzing took hold in Alusair's ears. She dismissed it as a side effect of the spell on the ring.
Holding the gold ring close to her mouth, the princess said, "Yes, I can hear you." She spoke the words softly, so no one or no creature could hear.
What? I can't hear you. Are you all right? Alusair heard her father ask. She didn't like to admit it, but she was happy to hear the concern in his voice.
Vangerdahast sighed in annoyance inside the princess's head. You are trying to talk into the ring, I'd imagine, the mage said sharply, his patience fleeing. Well, that won't work. Just concentrate. I can sense your mind through my scrying spell, but we won't have full contact until you concentrate on us.
Alusair focused her mind on the sound of the wizard's voice, and the buzz in her ears vanished. Ah, there you are, Allie, she heard her father say happily.
She could almost picture Azoun, sitting in his tent with Vangerdahast, hovering over some scrying mirror or crystal ball. Without realizing it, the princess pictured her father five years younger, more as she remembered him from their days in Suzail. His brown beard was less sprinkled with silver, and the deep wrinkles around his eyes were barely noticeable.
We can see you, Princess, but the ring will only allow you to hear us, Vangerdahast explained. As long as you-
I'm sure she's figured out how this works by now, Azoun said, abruptly ending the wizard's lecture. There was a brief but pregnant silence, then the king said, Where are you, Allie? How are Torg's troops holding up?
Alusair quickly and succinctly reported on the dwarven army's disposition. At the rate we're moving, the princess concluded, we should meet up with you in about twenty-five days.
That soon? Azoun asked, surprise evident in his voice.
We're about halfway to the meeting spot ourselves, with two more tendays march ahead of us. I was hoping to have some time to drill the troops before we met up.
You'll have about five days, then, Father, the princess thought. A short silence followed, so Alusair assumed there was nothing more to say. With little prelude, she bid her father and Vangerdahast good night and pulled the ring from her finger. The light from the gold ring faded, then winked out.
Studying the expertly engraved dragon on the signet, Alusair rose to her feet. The falcon overhead cried out, and the princess looked up to see it diving toward the trees. The bird shrieked again. This time, however, Alusair thought she heard a shrill whistle from the forest answer the cry.
Now a dark speck against the darker sky, the falcon disappeared into the trees. Alusair paused for a moment and narrowed her eyes in an attempt to see into the murky outline of the woods. After a time, she dismissed the whistle as a product of her imagination or an aftereffect of the spell. With a single glance over her shoulder, she turned from Lethyr Forest and made her way to her bed.
The next day started warm, bright, and sunny-in fact, a rather typical day for the early summer month of Kythorn-but an almost palpable uneasiness hung over the dwarven camp. Alusair learned from Torg that the sentries had reported possible movement by mounted troops at the edge of the wood during the night. The ironlord had passed word through the ranks that every soldier was to be prepared for battle, and the princess assumed correctly that this was the source of the army's restlessness.