Page 35 of Mated to the Alien Warlord

I bit my lips and shuffled outside where the camp was being taken down. It didn't take long for me to spot Wrynn and his men, who were tied to their saddles, refusing to look at me and probably assuming the worst had happened to me last night.

I emptied the bowl and placed it in the sand, not knowing what else to do with it. Cryeogh returned and, without warning, lifted me and deposited me on his horse.

Once again, I was tempted to run, but there was still nowhere for me to run to. Steppenfort was getting closer, but I was under no illusion that with my bound hands, Cryeogh and his man wouldn't catch me in no time. They had yesterday, and I hadn't been tied then.

Cryeogh swung himself in the saddle behind me and wordlessly turned the horse. We rode on until night broke, where we repeated the last day and night all over.

Hurt and tired, we rode on the next day until I saw a stronghold far out in the distance. It wasn't Slotenburg though. I had been to Fionbyr's stronghold before, and the one we were closing in on wasn't it.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked because I was tired and curious.

"That's Acklymburg, Warlord Grobhan's stronghold, not that it's any of your business," Cryeogh responded smugly.

All too soon, we reached the impressive fortification that seemed to have been carved out of a boulder that would have seemed just as out of place as the stronghold did.

Massive towers were connected by enormous walls. A moat of quicksand surrounded the entire construction, accessible only over a drawbridge that was lowered at our approach.

Through a short tunnel, we entered the square courtyard surrounded by buildings. Long steps on one side led up to large double doors, which I imagined would lead into the main part of the stronghold, holding the main hall and warlord's private quarters as well as guestrooms, a kitchen, and so on.

The great hall was dimly lit, or maybe it seemed gloomy to me because I had been staring at the bright sun for days. A large table made from macay wood stood straight ahead of me. It was made for at least thirty people, but it was only occupied by two men.

A snarling to my left made me turn my head and stare at a handful of dogs, all chained and growling at our entrance.

"Cryeogh, what pitiful creature do you bring me?" a man I recognized as Fionbyr rose, dabbing his chin with a napkin before dropping it on his plate. My heart began to beat harder, and fear gripped me. Would Fionbyr kill me?

Justlikelasttime,we were following Fionbyr's tracks unsuccessfully. The bastard was leading us on a wild chase through Thyre, exhausting our males, horses, and resources.

Three times, Bryck had already been forced to send for more provisions from his private stocks, and I wondered how long he could last. As much as the chase was exhausting us though, I figured it had to be doing the same to Fionbyr's army. Lacking Bryck's resources, it had to hurt him more than us.

Sooner or later, the coward had to know that our armies would meet, and I didn't understand why he tried to run from it.

The cold season would be here soon, and his males would suffer just as much as ours.

"He has to be calculating that the Vandalls will attack and divert our attention," Gryck speculated. Which was the only theory that made any sense.

During the day, we were busy planning, sending and receiving scouts, but at night I lay awake for many hours, dreaming of Damaris. Missing her and wishing she was at my side.

The only thought that soothed me was that she was sound and safe at Wyrkymburg by now, protected by Wrynn and his males whom I had told to stay there as well. Even if the Vandalls came, she would be safe there.

I wished I could watch her belly grow with our child and hoped she took it easy on herself and didn't work herself into exhaustion.

Thoughts of Damaris simultaneously hurt and lightened my days and nights, sometimes making it hard to concentrate.

"Have you heard anything about the Vandalls?" Kendryx asked our khazar as we all sat around the large wartable, as we'd come to call Bryck's table filled with maps and figurines representing us and our enemies.

"Nothing. My spies haven't sent a bird in over a month, which makes me suspicious that the Vandalls have not only discovered my spies, but that they are planning something."

"That would play straight into Fionbyr's hand," Myrca, who had rejoined us, said darkly.

"I say we lay siege to Slotenburg," Kendryx asserted.

Gryck shook his head. "We don't even know if he is at Slotenburg or Acklymburg."

I liked Kendryx's idea though. It would at least finally put us on the offensive instead of chasing the bastard down, and I suggested, "We divide. Kendryx takes his men to Slotenburg, I take mine to Acklymburg, and our khazar keeps chasing the main army."

"None of us will be able to fight them if we divide. We don't know where they are," Gryck said, nearly throwing his hands in the air.

"It doesn't matter. Let's say I lay siege to Acklymburg and they're at Slotenburg coming out to chase Kendryx off, hoping to take him down while it's only him. He runs, and while they give chase to him, Gryck and I swoop in from the other sides and trap them."

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