Dragon Heartstone > Chapter 25–Allies

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The tent smelled of worn leather, herbs, and the lingering trace of lamp oil. Faline looked up as Banoch entered the tent. His boots left a cloud of light road dust on the tent’s floor. “You certainly gave the Bretagnians a bloody nose,” she said with sardonic amusement.

“Yes,” Banoch replied, his tone flat as weathered stone. Dust and dried blood still caked the edges of his armor, a testament to the day’s brutal engagement. “For whatever good it will do, it was a success.”

His negativity grated on her nerves. “What is the matter?”

He looked at her—a long, measuring gaze that seemed to weigh more than words, then answered. “We do not have enough troops to take Keihl or to keep the Bretagnian army from lifting the siege. Since that is the case, we have no chance of success. Are we simply going to wait until we are destroyed?”

Faline’s face grew warm, a sudden flush rising beneath her skin. For a fleeting moment, an old hunger stirred—of soul-consuming abilities now but a memory. The sensation passed like a ghost, leaving only determination in its wake. She looked directly into his eyes, her tone sharp as a drawn blade. “I have left you out of my plans for too long. I will now tell you how this campaign will play itself out.”

Twenty minutes later, Banoch exited the tent and walked into the moonlight, casting the camp in shades of silver and shadow. For once, he understood the strategy. If Faline could follow through, there was a solid chance to take Keihl and destroy the Bretagne army.

* * *

Darkness surrounded them, thick as velvet and alive with night sounds—distant owl calls, the soft nickering of horses, crickets weaving their endless song. The campfire cast a circle of amber light, illuminating Katun as he looked down from his horse at Nikolas. “I think under the circumstances, your terms are fairly reasonable. I will communicate them to the Queen. In the meantime, you should probably send someone with me so we can move quickly if she agrees.”

Nikolas nodded as firelight glinted off the sheen of his leather armor. The smell of woodsmoke and leather wrapped around them. “Very well, my friend. I will send Mikail with you. We will be breaking camp in the morning and moving north along the road, but I won’t make it hard to find us.” He thumped a closed fist to his chest and extended his hand to Katun. “Give my regards to the Queen.” “I will do that,” Katun returned the gesture but winced as he struck his bruised chest. The Preytars ought to change that salute.