Ella pressed her back against the large rock, slowing her breathing, tightening her grip on the short sword she'd picked up during the Urak attack a week or so before. She looked to her left, seeing one of the scouts, Suka, pressed up against another rock, their gazes meeting. The sun had set an hour or so ago, the slightest glow of its lingering light illuminating the hillside.
A few feet away, crouched in a low ditch, Faenir's eyes gleamed, his ears pricked. Images of three men touched Ella's mind, the glow of a torch, the smell of leather, dirt, and pickled fish. Since the Urak attack, since hearing the call of the wolf in her blood, Faenir's thoughts had seeped into hers, mixing, blending.
Ella still wasn't sure how to feel about it. In a way, it felt more natural than anything ever had. But she could still taste Urak blood, still feel flesh tearing beneath her teeth. She could barely remember anything from when she lost control and the wolf had taken over, but she remembered enough to make her skin crawl.
She heard the crunch of dirt and the low drag of breaths. The warmth of torchlight cast an orange glow across the ground, scattering shadows.
"Looks clear to me," a man said.
"If it meant you could head back early and fill your belly with that filthy pickled fish, it would always look clear to you, Jon."
"Can't fight on an empty belly."
"We've still got this whole section to clear, arsehole. Then you can eat."
Ella pulled in a breath, holding it, readying herself. I will not lose control. I will not. The footsteps drew closer, scents growing stronger in Faenir's nostrils.
Suka looked at Ella, nodding. The Fourth and First armies had passed Elkenrim only two days ago. Almost seven thousand soldiers by Juro's reckoning and three dragons – the third dragon joining them the night before. Dragons… The creatures were enormous, casting shadows so large Ella had no doubt they could shroud the entire Glade in darkness. Ella could have spent hours just watching the creatures fly. There was a devastating beauty about them.
Since the armies had come into view, Ella and the others had been stalking them from the hills, killing off the scouts that strayed from the main column. Tanner had insisted on staying with Ella when they separated to take out the scouts, but Farwen hadn't allowed it.
'A bird doesn't learn to fly by staying under its mother's wing,' the elf had said. Instead, Ella had been paired with Suka. The woman was a few years Ella's senior, a Lorian native from a village north-east of Highpass. She was a little brash but was quick on her feet and had seen more than her fair share of scraps.
Ella nodded.
"What's that?" one of the men said, the crunching of footsteps stopping. A low growl hummed in the air. In the ever-dimming dark, the men couldn't see Faenir as the wolfpine crouched in the ditch. Faenir smelled fear – the scent caused the wolf within Ella to claw at the back of her mind.
"Fancy a warm meal now?" Ella remembered the voice from earlier — Jon.
"Quit your whining. You can take point."
"Me? Can you not hear that? It's probably a fucking bear or a wolf. I'm not stumbling on one of those bastards in this dark. I like my arms firmly attached to my body, thank you."
"Jon, if you don't move, I'll hack your arms off myself."
"Look, Bern, If there's one thing I know—"
"You know nothing, Jon. Move."
The man grumbled, but the sound of footsteps resumed. Across the way, Suka bent her knees, sliding a knife from her belt. Faenir went silent, but Ella felt his muscles tensing, lips pulling back.
Ella's heartbeat quickened, breaths growing shorter. She didn't want to kill, but the wolf in her blood howled, itching to get out. Even as she held it back, she could feel its pull and taste the bloodlust. No! The wolf howled in defiance. I'll do it. But I won't ever hunger for it.
Dirt crunched next to Ella, a man stepping past her.
"What the fuck?"
A glance showed Ella that Suka had already stepped from behind her rock, driving her knife into the throat of the man closest to her, blood spilling into the dirt as the body dropped. Two remained: the one closest to Ella, and the third man, who had seen Suka kill his companion.
Ella lunged forwards, stabbing out with her short sword, finding resistance in the form of studded leather. The man roared as the blade sliced through the leather and sank into the soft flesh beneath. The wolf howled in Ella's blood, tasting the iron tang in the air as Ella ripped the sword from the man's side.
He screamed, clutching a hand to his side, but collected himself and lunged, cracking his fist into the bridge of Ella's nose.
Blinding pain followed a crunch, a ringing in Ella's ears. She stumbled backwards, the man following after her. Another fist slammed up into her chin, and she was falling, head spinning, the ground rising to meet her.
'You need to be willing to fight harder than anyone who stands in your way.' Coren's words rang in Ella's ears.
Her vision blurry, Ella rolled as she hit the ground, a thud following as the man's sword sank into the earth where she had landed. Her heart pounding, she slammed her foot against the flat of the man's blade, knocking it out from under him. With his weight pressed down onto the pommel, he stumbled forwards, and Ella jabbed her blade into his chest. The man coughed, spluttering, but reached down to grab Ella by the throat. She placed the palm of her left hand against the pommel of her short sword and pushed forwards, ramming the blade further into the man's chest, down to the hilt.
He jerked, collapsing. Ella twisted, angling him so he fell to her left and crashed into the dirt. Her right hand still wrapped around the hilt of her sword, Ella shoved herself to her feet and climbed on top of the man, ripping the sword free. She drove the blade back down, blood splattering. Again and again she tore the blade free before driving it back down. Red mist tainted her vision, the call of a wolf howling in ears, snapping and snarling.
By the time Ella forced herself to stop, sweat dripped from her brow, her breaths shuddering, chest trembling. Her hands shook as they held the hilt of the sword, blood coating the steel, dripping from the tip. Steam wafted from the butchered corpse below her, and her stomach turned at the sight of the man's mutilated chest. It looked as though he'd been savaged by a… wolf. What… what am I?
"He's dead," Suka said, resting her hand on Ella's back as she dropped to her haunches. "Not sure I've ever seen someone quite as dead. I'm glad you're on our side. Don't worry, the killing itself gets easier. The guilt doesn't. If it does… well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
Ella looked back down over the corpse, her throat tightening at the sight of the shredded leather and flesh. She forced the vomit down as it touched the back of her throat. A low grumble sounded to her left. Faenir stood over the body of the third Lorian scout, blood dripping from his muzzle, his amber eyes locked on Ella.
After dragging the bodies into the ditch Faenir had been lying in and covering them with branches and foliage, Suka, Ella, and Faenir, made their way along the hillside to where they were to meet the others.
Farwen, Juro, Varik, Tanner, Yana, and the other nine remaining scouts who had left with them from Tarhelm were already there.
"Much trouble?" Farwen asked, looking Ella up and down. Blood and dirt covered Ella's hands, chest, and face, and her nose throbbed.
"Three scouts. Dealt with them handy enough." Tula nodded to Ella and winked.
"Good. We'll keep them on their toes."
Ella moved to the edge of the hill. A river of flickering torches filled the valley bellow, stretching for miles. Amidst the glow of torchlight, Ella could make out canvas tents of red and cream, soldiers dashing about, rippling banners emblazoned with the black lion of Loria.
"They're moving faster than we'd expected," Juro said, studying the valley.
"We should wait for them to pass through, then we can cut off the supply train and torch it." Varik shrugged, his pursed lips visible through his thick beard. "The wagons won't be able to keep this pace. There'll be distance between them before Steeple. Let's see how they do without blankets, food, medical supplies… Not too well I'd wager."
"No." Farwen folded her arms, the silvery light of the moon catching the three scars that ran from her jaw, down her neck, and into the folds of her cloak. "We will follow them, harass them a bit, but we won't fully engage."
"And why in the gods not? How often do we see two imperial armies pooling together? Potentially a third. Not bloody often. With a handful of us, we can take out all their supplies at once. Elyara would name us idiots for not taking the opportunity to cause so much chaos."
"Yes, it would be chaos." Farwen tucked a strand of mixed white and brown hair back over her tapered ear, eyes still searching the valley below. "But that would slow them too much."
"Isn't that the whole idea?" Varik looked at Farwen as though she were mad.
"You want to use them," Tanner said, a broad smile spreading across his face.
"Am I missing something?" Varik frowned, looking to the others.
"Whoever the empire are marching against are not our friends either," Ella said, Farwen's words starting to make sense to her. "And if they have indeed taken the eastern cities, then they have not only swept aside six imperial armies but the garrisons of each of those cities as well. Instead of kicking the empire's feet out from under them now, it would be smarter to follow them, observe them, and learn what this threat is. Then, with any luck, they will destroy each other, and we can pick apart the pieces. Instead of taking out one enemy, we take out two."
"Work smart, not hard," Juro said, giving Varik a wink.