‘Getting too old for battles, Warsword?’ she teased, watching him roll his shoulders with a wince.
‘Maybe if someone hadn’t kept me up all night I’d be in better shape.’
‘I heard no complaints,’ she quipped, smiling.
He laughed. ‘And you never will.’
When they emerged from the tent, the icy air bit at Thea’s nose and cheeks, but she hardly noticed as the sight before her stole the breath from her lungs. The entire camp and the battlefield beyond were carpeted in fresh snow, the glare from the sun nearly blinding.
‘It’s like it never happened,’ she said quietly.
There was no black or red blood staining the ground, no corpses littering the field. The only evidence from the massacre the day before was the huge mound beneath which Thea assumed the body of the frost giant lay, and the odd spear sticking up through the snow. From last night’s debrief, she knew that any coherent prisoners had been put in chains and grouped in smaller units to be escorted to Vios, while any remaining wounded monsters and cursed men had been slaughtered and buried.
‘Feels wrong, doesn’t it?’ Wilder murmured beside her, surveying the land alongside her. ‘Like all those deaths, and all that suffering, was just wiped clean from the world.’
Thea scanned the plain, where just yesterday they had fought tooth and nail against the darkness, where Kipp had nearly lost his life, and so many others had… It came back to her in flashes: the feel of a throat opening beneath her blade, the shadows lashing for Wilder as he climbed atop the frost giant, that arachne fang sticking out of Kipp’s heart. And Artos, bound with bolts of lightning, screaming.
Thea turned towards the command tent. ‘Let’s find Talemir and the rest.’
‘About fucking time,’ Anya said as they entered.
Torj looked up from where he was rolling several maps together. ‘I advised her against interrupting.’
That brought a laugh to Thea’s lips as she recalled how he, Cal and Kipp had made that mistake in Harenth. ‘Where are we headed?’ she asked.
‘The Singing Hare, of course,’ Kipp’s voice sounded from behind her.
She whirled around and threw her arms around her friend. ‘You’re here.’
‘Where else would I be?’ he replied with his usual grin.
Thea held him at arm’s length, surveying him. ‘You’re truly healed?’
Kipp bowed his head, suddenly sincere. ‘Thanks to you.’
‘What would the midrealms be without the Son of the Fox?’ She hugged him again, hoping that the image of him lying dead in the snow would eventually fade in time, for its echo haunted her now, even as he stood whole and healthy before her.
‘A dull place indeed,’ Kipp declared. ‘So, you’re all packed?’
‘We’re not really going to the Singing Hare…’ she said, glancing from Kipp to Torj. ‘Are we?’
The Bear Slayer huffed a laugh. ‘Don’t ask me how he managed it, but actually, yes. We’re heading there as soon as the final preparations are made.’
Thea blinked at her friend. ‘How in the realms —’
‘I simply pointed out the strategic benefits to our commanders,’ Kipp replied, having the gall to look baffled. He counted them on his fingers. ‘The town has supplies we need and medical facilities for our wounded. We need a secure location to interrogate the false king. It’s on the way to Vios, where, after we’re done with his questioning, Artos will be handed over to Queen Reyna to face trial for the murder of King Elkan. The good men and women of the midrealms need a morale boost… Plus, I’m not dead. We need to celebrate.’
Wilder shook his head in disbelief. ‘And you managed to convince Talemir, Drue, Esyllt and Queen Reyna of this?’
Torj snorted. ‘He did. I’ve never seen anything so persuasive. Though I’m not sure his motivations are entirely altruistic.’
Kipp made a noise of shock, his hand flying to his chest. ‘You wound me, Bear Slayer.’
‘You’ll live.’
‘I almost didn’t,’ Kipp reminded him.
‘Well, luckily Thea didn’t listen to your dying wish for sour mead and gave you her springwater instead,’ Wilder interjected.