This day was no different. In the first few hours of their patrol, they followed several trails into the forest, only to find that they led nowhere. One rider and his group stumbled upon a herd of elk, and another saw what they believed was a fox den. But they encountered no brigands.
"These last holdouts are th' clever ones," Oliban said in a low voice, as they continued to ride. "They've gone this long without being caught. If they've stayed this close t' th' city, they won't be on th' main road."
Tirnya nodded. "I'm listening."
Oliban pointed toward a narrow, overgrown path coming up on their right. There was a lattice of such trails in the woodland, nearly all of them leading off the main road. They were little more than footpaths, worn into roads by repeated use by those on foot, and the occasional rider. Some led to favored hunting grounds, others to spots where rare herbs or roots were known to grow. Some were even used by petty thieves who preyed on travelers singly or in small bands. They would make fine hiding places for the outlaws.
"All right," Tirnya said. "We'll have a look."
She halted, raising her hand over her head, signaling her company to stop and gather around her.
"We're going to check some of these smaller paths," she said, once all her men were close enough to hear. "Oliban has suggested that the brigands have retreated farther into the woodland to evade our patrols."
"We've already passed several paths," said Dyn, his red hair dampened by the rain and clinging to his brow. "We would have noticed if they had been traveled."
Another of her lead riders, a man known simply as Crow, for his raven black hair, his black eyes, and his willingness to eat anything, shook his head. "They wouldn't be so obvious. They'd avoid the main road, and find the paths in the woods."
Dyn nodded. "Right. Of course."
"We'll split up," Tirnya said. "Two groups on this path, two on the next. The rest of you remain here and listen for sounds of engagement. If we have trouble, you'll be our reinforcements."
Dyn and Oliban exchanged a look. Tirnya knew what they were thinking.
"Uh, Captain," Oliban began, looking unsure of himself. "Ya ought t' stay here. For all we know, we'll be ridin' into an ambush."
"All the more reason for me to be leading you," Tirnya said, though she knew what they'd say to this as well.
"That's no' th' way His Lordship would see it," Dyn said, taking up the argument, "or… or th' marshal."
The marshaclass="underline" her father. Dyn and Oliban were both right. This was precisely the reason why captains had lead riders, soldiers they could trust with command in situations that called for smaller companies. Still, it went against all of her instincts. She had great faith in Oliban and the others. But given the choice between putting herself in danger and risking the lives of the men who served her, she would always choose the former. And, she had to admit, she enjoyed the excitement of this kind of work. She wanted to go down these paths; every one of them.
"All right," she said. "Oliban, Crow, you take this one. Dyn and Qagan, you and your men take the next. The rest of us will wait here. If you don't see any evidence of activity on the path in, say, a thousand fourspans or so, come back. There are plenty more for us to search."
"Yes, Captain," Oliban said, speaking for them all, as he so often did.
"Have a care. You're right: You could be riding into an ambush." She nodded toward the horn Oliban carried on his belt. "At the first sign of trouble, you blow that, understand?" She looked at her other lead riders. "That goes for all of you."
"Of course, Captain."
The four groups quickly arrayed themselves into columns and started down the two paths. Soon they had disappeared from view, though for a few moments longer Tirnya could still hear the jangling of harnesses and the occasional snort of a horse. Before long she no longer heard even that much.
"The rest of you can get off your horses for a bit," she said. "But stay near your mounts, in case we need to ride in quickly. And keep the noise to a minimum. If we can't hear them, we can't help them."
Some of the men dismounted; others didn't. Tirnya remained on Thirus, listening intently for any sound of combat. She was sure that she would hear a skirmish if one began, but the longer she waited, the less certain she felt. Angry with herself for allowing Dyn and Oliban to talk her out of going with one of them, she was just about to lead a group of men down the first of the paths when Dyn and Qagan emerged from the wood, leading all of their men.
"Nothing?" Tirnya asked, masking her relief.
Qagan shook his head.
A few moments later, Oliban and Crow returned as well.
Tirnya was not yet ready to give up on the idea, and she sent her other four lead riders down the next pair of paths. Again they found no sign of the brigands. Reaching a third pair of trails, Tirnya decided to try it one last time. Once more, she sent Crow and Oliban in one direction, Dyn and Qagan in the other.
As before, she found the wait interminable, but by this time she had grown less convinced that they were apt to find anything. She was still listening for any sound of struggle, but her mind had begun to wander back to her conversation with the merchant and all he told her about the pestilence. So when the first shouts and clashes of steel reached her, it took her a moment to locate the sound. An instant later she heard a horn blow, and then a second, both of them from the eastern side of the road. Oliban and Crow.
Recovering quickly, she shouted "This way!" to her men, kicked at Thirus's flanks, and plunged into the woodland, the remaining half of her company just behind her.
She heard the horns again, and more sounds of fighting. They weren't far; five hundred fourspans at most. And she was about to ride into the thick of it. Even knowing this, though, she didn't slow down. She'd been frustrated and impatient all day long, waiting for her men to return from their forays into the woods, wondering if she'd been wrong not to go with them. Now they'd found the brigands, and she refused to let Crow and Oliban face them without her. At that moment she couldn't have said if she was driven by fear for her men or by battle lust or simply by pride. Nor was she certain that she wanted to know.
Emerging into a small clearing, she saw her men battling perhaps a dozen of the outlaws. Several men already lay on the ground, most of them brigands, though at least one man down was wearing the blue and green uniform of Qalsyn. She had no time to notice more, for at that moment an arrow caught her full force just above her right breast, knocking her off her mount and onto her back. The impact of her fall stunned her momentarily, though she had sense enough to cover her head with her arms, lest she be kicked by one of the horses trailing her.
In the next moment several of her men were beside her, concern on their faces making them look so young. When had they gotten so young?
She heard fighting all around her, tried to get up so that she could join in. But she could barely make herself move at all. Steel on steel, war cries and neighing of horses. All around her. Yet the sounds seemed to be receding, and the light with it.
"Captain?" one of the men said, sounding so scared, so young. Not one of her lead riders, but another one. What was his name? She knew all of their names. At least she had. "Captain?"
"I'm all right. Don't be scared." That's what she tried to say. "What's your name?"
She wasn't certain, though, that she managed to say anything. And then all was darkness.