Page 39 of Mated to the Alien Warlord

She backed up to the door, and I stretched my arms toward her with tears streaming down my face. But she kept shaking her head and slipped out the door. I listened to the key being turned on the other side and broke down in tears earnestly.

HadIhadaninkling Damaris was being held at Acklymburg, I would have torn the damned stronghold down brick by brick. But I didn't. Instead, I lamented the fact of how boring my assignment was.

Day in and day out, we camped in front of the stronghold, just out of range of their archers but close enough so they didn't dare step foot outside if they didn't want to engage us. And that they didn't want to engage us became clear a week into our siege, when not one person showed themselves to even negotiate.

We didn't know that Fionbyr and Grobhan were both inside, just like I didn't know Damaris was.

The whole idea was to lure the traitors' armies out to come fight us.

Kendryx was camped out in the same manner in front of Fionbyr's stronghold, Slotenburg, while Gryck's army rode through Thyre, hoping to find a trace of their armies, which had to be camped somewhere.

Scouts rode out daily, keeping our three factions abreast of news. Same as courier birds who flew in and out of Acklymburg. We tried to shoot them down with arrows when we saw them, but I was sure some made it through, especially when they were sent at night.

To dispel the boredom, I sent hunting parties into the nearby forest to supplement our provisions and to keep morale up. None of us were happy about our inactivity.

For some inexplicable reason, my eyes kept returning to one window on the third floor. Sometimes, I saw a shadowy figure behind the glass and wondered about Acklymburg's inhabitants and what they thought about our siege.

Were they frightened? Did they understand their warlord had allied himself with a traitor? Did they understand that this technically made them traitors too?

Khazar Gryck would never punish ordinary denizens for the acts of their warlords, but did they know that?

I sighed. Boredom was turning me into a philosopher, and I didn't like that one bit.

"Two more birds made it out early this morning," Myrca informed me dryly after making his morning rounds.

"Let's hope whoever is in charge of Acklymburg is begging for reinforcements. I'm tired of this waiting dryck," I said, kicking a rock against another.

"Kar, some action would be nice," Myrca agreed.

Just then a bird flew in, and we hastened to the bird handler to see what message it brought us.

The bird handler lovingly took the scroll off the feathered messenger's back and handed it to me. "Warlord."

"Thank you." I quickly unrolled it and narrowed my eyes in recognition of Kendryx's handwriting. I summarized the message to Myrca. "It's from Kendryx. An army too large for him to engage just left Slotenburg and is on its way here. He sent a message to our khazar and suggests we go northeast and make a turn north to cut them off while he will come from the west, and he has asked Gryck to come from the south." I balled the scroll with my fist while hot blood rushed through me. Finally! Finally we would engage Fionbyr and Grobhan.

"Why don't we engage now? We could cut—"

I shook my head. "If the army was too large for Kendryx to battle, it'll be too large for us too. The plan was for us to meet up and engage them from three fronts."

"I'll go deliver the orders," Myrca nodded.

I curled my right hand over the hilt of my sword and threw one last glance at Acklymburg, wondering why my gaze always returned tothatwindow. Nothing held me here, and yet I almost felt compelled to stay.

I shook my head. Those notions were ridiculous. I missed my czira, and the fortification only reminded me of my own, where I knew Damaris to be. Safe and sound and carrying my son.

My son! I smiled, gods if I hadn't loved that kallini so much already, I would burst under the onslaught of emotions just thinking about her growing my son inside her now.

I scribbled a quick note like I had done before, to send a bird to her, telling her that I thought of her and loved her. Telling her it would be over soon now, and as usual, suppressed any nagging voices on why I hadn't received a response from her yet.

"Warlord," my pondering was interrupted by one of my lieutenants having questions about our route because he would send the archers ahead. They were on foot and usually the quickest to break camp.

Together, we mapped out a route where we would meet up again. The last thing I wanted was to be surprised by Fionbyr' and Grobhan's troops. I didn't doubt my warriors would fight bravely, but there was no sense in fighting a battle we might lose when we had a solid plan to decimate the enemy.

I mounted Mordakay and banished thoughts of Damaris that tried to creep back into my mind because it was her who had given the horse to me.

Not even an hour later we were on the move, and I studiously avoided looking back at Acklymburg. I felt a strange sensation in my back, as if somebody was watching me.

Iwasn'tsureifI was sad or relieved when I watched Vandor's army pack. Once or twice, I allowed myself the illusion of picking Vandor out among the many men since he was one of the tallest, but that only hurt even more.

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