I am now a parent! Jack Sparrow (or Jackie, we're not sure yet) was brought to my door this morning after falling from a rooftop nest. Now I have to feed the damn thing every half hour for weeks, so woo-freaking-hoo.
Dedication to @_Sarah989_ and welcome to the family :D
The three of us hurried back to the army, but before we were halfway through worming our way towards the horses and Tem, a sharp whistle cut through the chatter of several thousand people. It demanded silence, and the army was so well trained by then that they offered it after a few breaths to finish their conversations.
And when everyone was as quiet as they were going to get, Tem's voice flooded over the whole battlefield. "It's four days' journey to the pass, and the nearest major garrison is a week from here. Keep a decent pace and they won't get close to you. You are safe as long as you keep walking. That is a promise."
There was a spate of muttering, but it was far from malicious. These people were exhausted and scared and wounded. They just wanted to go home.
We crept forwards until we had a vantage point of the northerners standing uphill in a ragged line. Temris was out in front, once again waiting for quiet. He had an air of patience about him, but I knew he wanted to be out of Canton as soon as humanly possible.
Once the muttering had died down, Tem beckoned with his left hand and Ronan stepped forwards, where he was clapped around the shoulder. "This is Ronan. He will be leading you. I would listen to him if I were you. He knows which direction you need to walk."
Ronan looked far from ecstatic, but he had been a good choice for this. He had the instincts and training of every northern warrior, and he had lived in the south for years. There wouldn't be as much cultural friction.
More muttering. This time, Tem didn't bother waiting. "There is space in the carts for those who cannot walk, but the children will have to be carried. You leave now."
We had only brought two carts, but the Anglians had a stockpile around here somewhere and horses too. No doubt they had sent people to hitch them up, because we had perhaps two hundred wounded and very few of them were fit to walk.
To punctuate the announcement, Ronan climbed onto a bay horse that had belonged to Colloe, and he cut a path through the mass of people and towards the gates. He was coming towards us, and I adjusted our route so we would pass him on our way to the horses. His eyes picked me out from the crowd easily, because I was one of very people wearing armour and the southerners were giving me a wide berth.
"Gods be with you, Lyra," he called, saluting me with two fingers. "When you get to Sierra, make a story out of the king-killing, eh?"
"Aye," I promised. "I will."
He smiled at me — that satisfied, weather-worn smile that he'd used as a reward for answering a tricky question even if we had got it wrong. I had been on the receiving end more often than any of the other children, because I had taken to my letters like a duck to water, and I had drunk in every story he ever told us. Those had been simpler times.
And then he was past, and we resumed our walk at a faster pace to cut through the crowd, who were starting to follow their guide. Many were carrying injured friends or complete strangers towards the carts, and others had the younger children in their arms. No one wanted to get left behind, but no one wanted to leave anyone else behind, either. There was a kinship to battle that could be hard to ignore.
The northerners' horses were still on the embankment behind the battle lines. It was there that we found Kiare setting off, but she reined in her horse at our arrival. It was not actually her horse — it was Anlai's grey gelding, and I couldn't help wondering how she had convinced him, of all people, to give her such a valuable present.
She smiled at me lazily, a little shake of her head deflecting the question before it was asked, and instead her eyes slid to our left, where Alisa was adjusting Asan's stirrups and Tommas was stood behind her, waiting to help her up.
"Friends of yours?" she asked.
I nodded. "They are going back to Cambria. Keep an eye on them for me?"
Tommas could look after himself, and he could look after Alisa, but Kiare knew how to use a sword, so she could protect them both in other ways. Somehow, I didn't think the journey back home would be as easy and risk-free as Tem had advertised.
"As you say. Are they headed for Sierra?"
"The wetlands, if you don't mind the detour."
Kiare laughed. "Mind it? I owe you my freedom, girl. Everyone here does, whether they know it or not. If you asked me to swim to Sihone and back, I would have to do it."
I didn't bother arguing. "I don't need you to swim anywhere. Do this, and we're even."
"Then you can consider it done." She offered me a hand and I shook it. A transaction — nothing more. We didn't know each other well enough for favours.
Once Alisa was settled on Asan, we found Tom a horse, too — a palfrey who had belonged to a corps member who was too maimed to come to Belmery with us. I held the reins while he fastened the girth, but instead of mounting, he turned and sighed at me.
"How long have we known each other, Lyra?"
That was a difficult question. Our friendship had lasted longer than I could remember clearly. We had been about five or six when I had first seen him sitting alone by the well. The other children had not excluded him, but they had not made any effort to include him either.
So, naturally, I had decided to take him under my wing. He had made a brilliant counter-balance — quiet where I was loud, light where I was dark, calm where I was hot-headed. Tom had quickly dispelled any notion of needing a wing to hide under, and we had been friends instead.
"Forever," I replied softly.
"Yes, it feels that way." He swallowed, and it was a miserable sound. "And this is goodbye?"
"Unless you want to come with me ... yes."
I had to offer, but I knew the answer already. As always, his eyes watched my lips. He flicked his eyebrows up, and I repeated the sentence because that meant he had missed a few words. They were heavier the second time around. It would be my choice and my choice alone to leave my life in the wetlands behind — but it would be my friend who paid the price.
"You know I can't," Tom said, gentle but firm. "I have to find my father. He needs to know I'm alive."
I nodded. I understood that well enough. But there was an ache growing in my chest, because if he went to Heathersedge and I went north, the chances overwhelmingly favoured us never laying eyes on each other again.
"And I will have to explain what happened to Ma, of course," he went on, his voice beginning to shake. "I will have to explain that I couldn't hear her screaming. Half an hour they kept her alive, and I carried on brushing off the plough horse because I couldn't hear."
"Gods, Tom, that's not your fault—"
"They told me afterwards. Thought it was funny," he continued heedlessly. "And do you know how they captured me, Lyra?"
I shook my head.
"They knocked me out cold from behind. I didn't even get to put up a fight," he muttered. "Did you?"
I only stared down at my boots. I wished to the gods that I had been knocked out cold, and then maybe I wouldn't have to watch my loved ones die over and over again in my dreams. But I supposed Tommas could still imagine what had happened to his mother, and maybe that was worst — imagining a thousand different versions and never knowing which was closest to the truth.
"No, I didn't think so."
"I'm putting up a fight now," I pointed out warily. "It's not too late."
He chewed on his lip. "They are dead. My mother, your parents and your brothers and sisters — they are all dead. Of course it's too late."
It had become apparent that this difference in our opinions could not be bridged or ignored. I smiled humourlessly and shook my head. He was wrong about this too, although there was no use arguing. I didn't expect killing the king to bring my dead back to life, but I did expect it to put them to rest so I could go on living the rest of my life.
"I'm going," I said in that tone with which there was no arguing.
He nodded because he knew me too well to hope I would back down now. "Then I can only wish you luck."
So this was it. Forever would end on a battlefield, and I was losing my oldest friend to the convoluted manoeuvrings of fate.
"Look after Alisa," I told him, pulling him into a quick, fierce hug. "And look after yourself."
"I will," Tom promised. He paused then, looking down at the floor with a sudden shyness about him. "You know ... I think I could have fallen in love with you, Lyra. Cruel and vengeful and all."
And that was the last thing Tom ever said to me. He walked away without letting me give him an answer because he didn't want one. He knew me better than anyone. He knew I couldn't tell him what he wanted to hear.
***
Temris and Anlai and Fendur were waiting for me. They were all holding their horses, and Fendur had Amber as well. I blinked at the sight of Freedrik's white stallion, his reins in Anlai's hand. No wonder he'd abandoned his gelding. A battle-trained horse like that was worth a king's ransom.
"Is everything alright?" Tem asked me, no doubt having noticed that my face resembled sour milk.
So he was still treating me like a lit firecracker, and that gave me an idea. For all he knew, Colloe could have given away every one of his secrets, not just a handful of vague, near-useless hints. Maybe I could use that.
"I see now why you were keeping it from me," I began.
"Keeping what from you?" he asked, picking at his nails to feign indifference.
"Belmery, of course."
"Lyra..." He shook his head. "If you wish to bluff, at least be subtle about it."
"Did you really think I would betray you?" I demanded. "Or was that just Colloe?"
For a split second, there was nothing but raw panic in his eyes. He blinked and it was gone, replaced with a blank mask, but it was too late. I had seen. And it could only mean one thing.
Tem's tone went flat. "I don't know what you think—"
"And we would never have stood a chance of pulling it off. I'm not so good an actress as you seem to think."
I had Anlai's slip to thank for that clue. And it seemed to me like that should be enough to loosen his tongue, but to my dismay, the calmer continence was winning out. The tiniest hint of a relieved smile was playing about his lips, which only served to frustrate me even further.
"Whatever Colloe told you, little one, you ought to take with a pinch of salt. He was half delirious."
"Liar," I spat back. "You are a shit-awful liar, Temris."
"I don't believe you. You don't know a damn thing," he retorted. "Prove me wrong or drop it. We don't have time for this now."
He was doing a terrible job of keeping my trust. But maybe that was part of the plan, too. I thrust the sheath of papers into his arms and snarled, "We will have even less time when we get to Belmery, but that's the point, isn't it? Delay and delay until I've walked myself into the slaughterhouse."
Tem took the papers and raised an eyebrow, unwilling to let my dramatics escape due explanation.
I rolled my eyes. "They're sending the weapons east."
And it appeared that I had stumbled on something even the puppet-master himself didn't know, because he frowned down at the maps. "Why would they do that? There's not— There's nothing—"
I went over and climbed onto Amber without deigning to reply.