Ryolas laughed. “When Basilla wants something, there is very little you can do to stand in her way. The cook eventually realized there was no getting rid of her as a child, so she set up a workstation for my sister when she was ten. Now that she is older and has other duties, she spends less time there, but she will still go every so often and help whip up a fresh batch of bread. Or at least, she did.” His eyes dimmed. “I’m not sure the warlocks will allow her the same liberties.”
Lucyan felt a pang of sympathy for Ryolas. “She will be back in Elvenhame’s kitchen in no time,” he assured the elf, “and we will all sit around the table together and enjoy some of that bread you were talking about.” He pulled out a piece of bread from his pack and bit into it. It was tough beneath his teeth, already cold and a bit hard. What he wouldn’t give for some fresh bread now…
“Do you think the warlocks could be listening to us, even now?” Ryolas asked, glancing around furtively. They’d moved out of the clearing and into the forest proper, finding a place where the ground was clear enough for them to camp while still being shaded by the trees, hoping that the canopy would shield them from prying eyes. “I wish I understood how their scrying spell worked. Can they actually see us, or can they only hear what we are saying?”
Lucyan sighed. “It would be nice if we had some sort of device that could detect it,” he said around a mouthful of meat. “I doubt they are watching everybody all the time. That would require an extraordinary amount of manpower, not to mention magic.”
“True.” Ryolas tore off a strip of meat with his teeth and chewed in silence, a thoughtful look on his face. “Have you any ideas where they may be keeping Basilla?”
“I can tell you she won’t be in the royal palace,” Lucyan said. “Warlocks are a prudish sort and love to gossip, so if they want to present her as queen later on, they’ll have to keep her secreted away. But Inkwall is a large city, and the crown owns many buildings, so it may not be easy to find her.”
“That’s if she is even in the capital,” Ryolas said grimly. “They could have stashed her away in some countryside estate.” He sighed. “Normally I could trace Basilla with my magic, but all that metal will interfere with my powers. Even so, I could probably still locate her if we are close.”
“That is a useful talent,” Lucyan said, perking up. He had no idea elves could do such things, but then again, he wasn’t very familiar with elven magic. “I’m familiar with her scent, so I’ll be able to detect her if she’s nearby as well. The trouble is pinning down her location, but hopefully we can ferret that out by asking the right questions of the right people.” Shadley’s man on the ground could help with that.
“Do you think their god is helping them?” Ryolas asked. “If they have divine intervention on their side, that will make matters worse for us.”
Lucyan pursed his lips, drawing up what he knew about Rumas, the warlock god, from the recesses of his mind. He was usually represented as a giant accompanied by a large, tusked boar that signified prosperity and guile. A fairly accurate representation of what the warlock people themselves were like.
“From what I have read about Rumas, it is likely he would approve of the initiative the warlocks are taking,” Lucyan said. “However, the current monarch, Wulorian, killed the previous king to seize power, so there is always a chance that he is out of favor with their god.”
“Or, Rumas could have tired of the previous monarch and given Wulorian his blessing to take him out,” Ryolas said darkly.
Lucyan nodded. “I suppose we won’t know for certain until we arrive,” he said, “but the legends have always stated that the three gods are related, and that they created Terragaard together. When I spoke to the dragon god a few weeks ago, he did not seem to hold any enmity against his fellow deities. I wonder if the gods are merely reluctantly estranged and are hoping to repair the rift by settling this war once and for all.”
Ryolas scoffed. “If they truly are gods, one would think they could sort out their family affairs without our help. I have enough problems to worry about without trying to solve theirs.”
Lucyan smiled wryly. Once, he would have agreed with Ryolas wholeheartedly. But now that he’d stood in the presence of the dragon god, he was not sure it was as simple as all that.
4
The next morning, Alistair and Tariana flew out bright and early for the city of Glastar. They’d spent nearly the entire day discussing their plans for the strike forces, and today, they would visit the largest military base in the country to recruit soldiers.
“I received a raven from Ara shortly before we left,” Tariana said as they flew. “She and Xenai will meet us at the base.”
“Good.” They’d already decided yesterday that their sisters would lead the other two strike forces, while Alistair took command of the first. As the general of their armies, Tariana would not participate, but would help him select and train the soldiers, and she had the final say on which targets they would hit first.
It only took an hour for them to arrive at the base, but Alistair was already starving. All this shifting and flying took energy. The base was on the outskirts of a large fir forest, an ideal location with plenty of game, which was used to feed the soldiers, and herds of pigs, goats, and sheep. They landed just outside the base, then shifted to human form and donned their clothes before approaching.
The base commander, who must have seen them flying in, waited at the gates to greet them. He was a tall, brawny fellow by the name of Kastin Rommar, with a stellar reputation, though Alistair had never met the man before.
“General.” He saluted Tariana, then bowed to Alistair. “Your Highness. It is an honor to have you both.”
“At ease, Commander,” Tariana said. “It is good to see you again. Have my sisters arrived yet?”
“No, but I imagine they will be here soon,” Commander Rommar said. “I’ve taken the liberty of having a late breakfast prepared for you. I imagine you’re both starving.”
The commander led them to a private dining room, where a delicious spread of food waited, enough for several people. Alistair and Tariana dug in, and a few moments later, Xenai and Ara joined them. Of all their sisters, these two looked the most alike, with their long, curly black hair and tall, slim builds. Ara was a bit more buxom, and Xenai’s facial features a bit more exotic, but the two were close enough to almost be twins.
“Glad to see you’re still alive, little brother,” Xenai said, clapping him on the shoulder as she took her seat beside him. “From what I heard, you went through quite an ordeal in Elvenhame.” She glanced at his arm. “All in working order, I hope?”
Alistair’s elbow twinged at the reminder. “Yes, thank you,” he said, forking up a mouthful of eggs. “It was hell, living under that anti-dragon spell all that time. It seems like it happened an age ago.” He shook his head.
“I’ve felt the effects of it myself,” Ara said sympathetically from across the table. “But I’ve never had to endure it as long as you did. I don’t know how you managed.”
“Commander,” Tariana said, her tone all business. “You know the soldiers at this base best. Who would you recommend for the strike forces?”