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a Warden,” she said.

“I don’t trust the Wardens.”

She glanced back at the half-sleeping man standing near the beer then looked at Cam. “Probably smart,” she said. “Dore is close with Remorn.”

“Delegate these jobs as you see fit,” Cam said. “But I’ll need your help.”

She stared at him, her eyes hard for a few beats. “You really intend on taking charge.”

“I do,” Cam said.

“And then what? We marched out once, and it didn’t go well.”

“You didn’t have me leading things.”

“No, but we had multiple shaman,” she said. “Now we just have you.”

“Don’t forget Sirrin,” Cam said.

“Sirrin is useless.” Brice let out a sharp breath. “But we don’t have much of a choice, do we?”

“We really don’t,” Cam said.

“I’ll do what I can then,” Brice said, drinking the rest of her beer down in several large gulps. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and leaned closer to Cam. “But you should be careful while we’re still here. I’ve been hearing rumors.”

“What kind of rumors?”

“About Remorn. He’s not finished, you know. There are still those within the army that are loyal to him and always will be.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Cam said. “And I take it you’re loyal to me now?”

She gave him a small half-smile. “Not yet,” she said. “But I’m getting there.”

“Good. Get there faster. And come see me more often without that armor.

She stared into her empty cup then stood. “If you’re lucky, maybe I will,” she said, then turned and stalked off.

Cam watched her go, a smile on his lips.

“She likes you,” Theus said. “Which is kind of terrifying.”

“No kidding,” Cam said.

“But you like that, don’t you? Strong women are kind of your thing.”

“Damn right.”

Theus sighed, finished his beer. “General Theus,” he said, mostly to himself. “I’m going to have to get used to that.”

Cam laughed and patted the table. “You will. Enjoy yourself today, Theus. Tomorrow, we’re getting to work.”

“Yes, sir,” Theus said, snapping a salute and grinning.

Cam smiled back, stood up, and strode across the room. A few of the men watched him go, and he couldn’t tell if they gave him suspicious, angry glares or simply watched him leave.

He took a lamp off a peg and stepped out into the smoky hall.

“Cam!”

His name echoed off the stone. He half turned. “I won’t get a break today,” he said to himself.

“What was that?” Gwedi strode toward him, the Elf woman’s long red hair flowing behind her. She glared around at the Humans like they were dogs who might bite at any second.

“Nothing,” Cam said. “What can I do for you, Gwedi?”

“Haesar wants to speak with you,” she said.

“Right now?”

“Yes,” she said, one hand on her hip, the other resting on the pommel of her curved Elven sword. “Right now, if you please.”

“All right then,” he said. “And it’s lovely to see you, Gwedi. You’re looking well.”

She gave him a flat look. “Come with me,” she said.

“After you. I do so love the view.”

She made a disgusted face, turned, and walked off.

Cam laughed to himself. Gwedi hated his guts, and sometimes it was just too easy to tease her.

He followed her through the halls and into the deepening mountain gloom.

9

Cam followed Gwedi into a chamber set deep into the western wing of the Mansion. The room glowed orange from lamps and sounds echoed off the rough stone walls.

Haesar sat behind a long wooden table. Scrolls, parchment, papers, and maps were spread out in front of him. The Elf Lord sat forward, hunched and bent, as his fingers scanned over a line of text.

“Lord,” Gwedi said, stopping in front of the desk. “I brought the shaman.”

Haesar looked up. His light eyes sparkled. He gestured for Gwedi to take a seat at the side of the table and tilted his head.

“Thank you for coming, Camrus,” he said.

“Of course,” Cam said. “I’ve been meaning to meet with you.”

Haesar gestured at the chair across from him. Cam lingered, eyes moving over the papers, then pulled it back and sat. He adjusted himself until his sword fell comfortably to the side.

“How has my daughter been?” Haesar asked.

Cam forced himself not to grimace. That wasn’t the sort of question he wanted to hear.

“She’s doing well,” Cam said. “She’s more or less taken charge.”

Haesar gave him a tight smile. The Elf Lord looked like a man of thirty, lean and fit. He wore emerald jewelry at his throat, a heavy cloak draped down his back, and intricate leather armor. His light-yellow hair was pulled back into a tight braid and wrapped into a bun at the back of his skull.

“Just as I expected her to,” he said. “Miuri isn’t the kind to sit idly by.”

“No, she isn’t,” Cam agreed.

Gwedi snorted from her seat and crossed her arms.

“Congratulations are in order, however,” Haesar said. “Your new wife, Galla Remorn. She’s an interesting match.”

“She is,” Cam said. “Just so you know, Miuri approved of it. I went to her first, and—”

Haesar smiled and waved hand. “No need to explain,” he said. “Marriage is not something our people practice.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Haesar laughed, low and rich, then leaned back in his chair. He inspected Cam like a soldier on parade.

“How much of the assassination did you plan?” he asked.

Cam felt something grip his throat. Fear spiked, peaked, subsided. He took a breath to steady himself before answering.

“I didn’t plan any of it,” Cam said.

“But someone did,” Haesar said, “don’t try and deny it. I’ve been meeting with Lord Remorn, and I’ve gotten to know him well. An assassin in the night is not his style.”

“I can’t speak to his style,” Cam said.

Haesar let out another laugh, bitter and short this time. “You’ve made enemies now, Camrus, but we don’t need more of those. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I hope I do as well.” Cam sat up straight, hoping his posture would hide his uncertainty.

Lamplight dimmed and flickered. Haesar’s chair creaked as he leaned forward again.

“Now that you’re in command of the Mansion’s military, we need to discuss our plans,” Haesar said.

Cam leaned forward to

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