Silence consumed the Andurii command tent when Dayne pulled back the canvas flap and stepped in from the night. Small foldable tables held thick candles that washed the tent in a warm light, casting shadows like the sun through trees.
Marlin and the five other Andurii captains – Dinekes, Odys, Ileeri, Barak, and Jorath – stood around a central table that held a rough drawn map of Valtara. They still wore their bloodied armour from earlier in the day, stitches holding wounds closed, skin bruised yellow and black. They had come into conflict with Lorian forces four times since leaving Lostwren for Myrefall, securing five towns along the way and bolstering their numbers by two thousand. The Andurii had been at the heart of each battle, and they had earned their victories with blood and sweat.
The captains looked up from the map, eyes fixed on Dayne, backs straightening as they greeted him with a stiff, "Lord Ateres."
"At ease," Dayne said, wiping the sweat and dirt from his brow with his right hand, before tossing a waterskin across the table to Marlin. He undid a second waterskin at his belt and tossed it to Ileeri, who snatched it out of the air with effortless grace, pulled the stopper from the top, and brought it to her lips.
"Wine, my lord?"
"You've earned it." Dayne mustered as broad a smile as he could, but all he wanted was his cot. His body groaned from the fighting, his soul pulled at him from such prolonged use of the Spark, and his left arm burned so brightly from holding the ordo shield for so long it felt as though it might fall off. "I've had casks dispersed through the company. It's Lorian, so it probably tastes like shit, but it's better than water for curing aches and pains. Maybe it will even give you a good night's sleep."
Ileeri let out a laugh, followed by a heavy sigh as though releasing a weight from her shoulders. She closed her eyes and drank a mouthful, then passed the skin to Odys, who stood beside her. "You have my thanks, my lord."
"And you have mine, Ileeri. You all do. You have fought like champions since donning the armour. The Andurii name is once again spreading throughout Valtara." Dayne turned to Marlin, raising his hand at the offer of the wine. "What news from the scouts?"
"Myrefall is well fortified. We can't get an exact number on the garrison. But last reports placed over ten thousand warriors under the banners of House Thebal. It is likely Miron has called most of those banners back to Myrefall, to keep his seat secure. Over the last week, many Lorian ships have docked in Myrefall's harbours. Meaning, all in all, there is no way to tell the numbers we face." Marlin took another swig of wine, then leaned on the table, trailing his hand across the map. "The lands from Myrefall to Achyron's Keep are heavily patrolled by a mixture of Thebalan, Koraklon, and Lorian forces. Even with the warriors of House Koraklon who have declared for your sister, High Lord Loren still holds sway over some thirty thousand. And from the reports, those Lorian reinforcements have finally arrived. Taking Myrefall and Achyron's Keep will be no easy task."
Dayne nodded, folding his arms. "What of dragons? Have there been any sightings?"
A few eyebrows raised at that.
"I thought you had said the dragons would be too distracted to be a problem, my lord?" Barak was a broad chested man with a head as bald as a polished stone and a clean-shaven face. He was a few summers Dayne's senior and bore full markings of both the spear and the sword, along with a number of other Valtaran tattoos that coiled about his shoulders and legs.
"I cannot see the future, Barak. And one should always hope for a calm sea but prepare for a storm that shifts the oceans. There are rebellions breaking out across the continent, true. But the more ground we gain, the more noise we make, the more blood we spill, the more likely it is that the empire might deem us worthy of the Dragonguard."
"Fair words." Barak nodded, looking down at the map, a touch of worry creeping onto his face. The same concerned look spread across the other captains, but none of them spoke.
"None in Valtara," Marlin said, answering Dayne's question. "But there have been sightings in western Illyanara, along with Drifaien. It may not be long before they turn their gaze to us."
"I will speak to Alina." He had asked Alina to reach out to Aeson multiple times, but she was as stubborn as an angry mule. With the number of wyverns under her command, a single Dragonguard would not turn the tide of this war. But a single Dragonguard at the head of an army of fifty thousand or more, supported by companies of Battlemages was a different prospect entirely. And that was assuming the presence of only one Dragonguard. The wars across the continent had bought them time, but it had not bought them certainty. If they reached out to Aeson, Dayne had no doubt in his mind the man would send aid. Dayne let out a sigh. You'll have to listen eventually, sister. Just don't let it be too late.Dayne lifted his hand and scratched at his stubbled chin. There was a question he'd been avoiding that needed asking. "I need you all to be honest with me."
The tone in Dayne's voice shifted the air in the room, and each of the captains looked to him, a wariness in their gazes.
"We have not spoken it aloud." Dayne let out a sigh, his gaze passing across each of the captains. "But it is now known that I hold the power to wield the Spark – that I am a mage."
Marlin, Ileeri, and Dinekes, held Dayne's gaze as the words hung in the air. Jorath, Barak, and Odys shifted uneasily, their stares finding vacant spots to study.
"I would know if this revelation has compromised me in your eyes and in the eyes of our people. The power to touch the Spark was not something I chose. It was something I was born with. A gift from Achyron, so I may better protect Valtara. I would—"
"No," Barak said, cutting Dayne short, lifting his head to meet Dayne's stare. "It is strange to us, my lord. For many years, we have only known pain from those who wield your power. But you are Dayne Ateres. Andurios. You are returned to us from the dead. Not only that, but we have seen you on the field of battle. You are a tempest. And I for one, am proud to stand behind you. By blade and by blood, you have my oath, Andurios."
"And mine." Ileeri pulled fist across her chest. "Your great, great, great grandfather allowed my House to fly the banner of House Ateres. We were nothing. We had nothing, but he took us in. Now, over a hundred years later, here I stand. You are a symbol, my lord. A symbol that the tide is turning. A symbol that Loria no longer holds dominance over magic. No, you are not compromised in our eyes, nor in the eyes of our people. You are hope." Even as Ileeri's eyes glistened, Dayne could see the anger in the way her jaw tensed and her breaths deepened. "Too many years, they've taken everything from us. Our pride. Our food. Our children—" Ileera swallowed, her words wavering "—By blade and by blood, we are yours. You are my Andurios, and I will follow you to the pits of the void."
"By blade and by blood," the other captains chorused.