The procession of soldiers and gin riding in wagons and atop their moas kept a steady pace through the scrubland, bringing the prince’s party to the edge of Jiovar’s black dunes. Above them, the moon glowed silver, trailed closely by the great star Mito, a purple-black slick against the bright night sky, both drifting towards the far horizon.

The prince turned in his saddle to speak with his steward. The glow of moonstones illuminated his face as they went over the report he was to present to the council in Jael.

Behind the pair, the Jah Annan gazed on, scanning the surrounding sands with an apathetic air. All save Sora, at least. Every step the big tawny bird beneath her took sent streaks of pain shooting through her body. The cut running down her back had scabbed, and she was starting to hope Lawthe or the prince would take mercy on her.

Of course, they didn’t. That wasn’t how it worked after all.

With the pretense of stroking the bird’s long neck, she leaned forward in her saddle, hand raised to pat thick feathers. She caught Lawthe looking at her from his own saddle, brow furrowed slightly.

I’m fine, she sent with one hand so only Lawthe could see. The shield didn’t so much as give a nod in acknowledgment of the gesture. Instead, the shield just turned his eyes back towards the prince.

Sora fought to keep from gritting her teeth. The man had trained her since before she could remember; why didn’t he ever show faith in her? It was only a bit of pain, nothing else. He wouldn’t have acted like this for Leahan or Botaran.

Suddenly, her eyes caught three hooded figures cresting a nearby dune, and Sora snapped back to reality. Immediately, her hand shot down to her sword-staff, where it rested in a sling alongside her saddle. Lawthe caught the motion and drew his own polearm, silver glass band glowing red as he turned in the direction of Sora’s gaze.

“My lord prince,” Lawthe said in a low but urgent voice. The prince paused his conversation with Adarelle to look back at the Jah Annan with a cocked eyebrow and a slight downward tilt to his lips.

“Yes, shield?” He asked, and Lawthe gestured with the blade of his staff. The prince turned to see the trio above, and his frown deepened.

“I see. Have two of your men go out to meet them, and have them take three of the regulars along with them. I’d not lose any good fighters tonight,” Kaeto said, and Lawthe gave a subtle salute, a quick flash of fist to mouth that wouldn’t have been easily spotted by the party on the black dune.

Lawthe gestured to Leahan and Botaran in hand talk, and the pair kicked their mounts towards the trio. A command from the shield sent three regulars in their black tabards after the men, each kicking their birds a bit too forcefully.

Sora fought back a spark of irritation at being left behind. Did Lawthe see more potential in them than he did in her?

When the small group reached the trio atop the dune, they spoke briefly before the Jah Annan and soldiers formed up around the strangers and began guiding them down towards the prince. As the group drew near, Sora watched Kaeto’s face shift from tense to curious.

Leahan guided his moa forwards when the group was close enough for Sora to vaguely make out the shape of the three men’s faces beneath their hoods. They were all pale as sea salt and stared around at the procession with wide blue eyes beneath their ash-grey cloaks.

“They say they’ve come down from the north and are on their way to Jael with a message for the council. Appears they were waylaid by a shipwreck, Shield Lawthe,” Leahan said, voice clear, stiffly formal, and loud enough for the prince to hear from where he sat nearby.

Kaeto kicked his bird forwards a few steps to eye the men surrounded by his liveried soldiers. “Northerners? From where do you hail, outlanders? And how did you end up here, far west of any major ports along the coast?” The prince asked.

One of the three men, a taller figure with silver lace-work around the cuffs of his sleaves, stepped forward. Around him, the soldiers’ hands unconsciously tightened on their sheathed swords.

“We come from Au-run Kitt, Lord Master, from along the divide,” the man said, voice heavy with the thick drawling accent of Liocene. “We bring news of the warped lands.”

Sora and Botaran shared a cautious look. Liocinians had a reputation as skilled con-men in the south, always spouting tales about strange creatures and happenings. The pair urged their moas forward, flanking the prince, who didn’t so much as glance at either of them. Leahan followed just behind them despite Lawthe’s fierce look.

“And what news is this?” Kaeto asked cautiously. Sora had seen him personally prosecute a fair score of liocinian liars in the past. It was never a pleasant business.

The cloaked man bowed his head, and for a moment, Sora thought she saw the glint of greenish metal around the man’s ear but then decided it was nothing. Some northerners were known to wear fake silver glass.

The cloaked man shuffled on the sand, keeping his gaze down. “As you wish, my lord,” he said slowly. “The Yoltai are stirring again. Last we knew, the creatures had already launched assaults on four of the walled cities, none successful, but it is worrying.”

One of the liveried men snorted, and Sora nearly did likewise. Yoltai were nothing more than stories to keep children from disobeying their parents. Kaeto gave the man a stern look, and the grin on the soldier’s face faded. The prince could be odd about the myths at times.

The northern man raised his head slightly, then looked around at the prince’s entourage. “If you don’t mind my asking, lord master, would you grant us leave to join your party to Jael? We have still many days afoot before we might arrive at the city, and as you must recognize, the news we bear is dire. We were to make landing in the city itself two nights gone, but the shattered sea can be, at times, less than hospitable.”

Kaeto stroked his goatee with his steel-coated fingers, studying the trio. To Sora’s surprise, the prince said, “very well then. If you each swear an oath on the stars that you will do no harm to myself or my people and that you keep these things to yourselves until we reach the council, you may consider your request granted.”

Sora struggled to keep her expression smooth. What was the prince doing? They should have just left the Liocinians to die in the sands; helping them was a waste of time. But, the prince was the prince; the choice was his.

The man lowered his head again in a deep bow. “We thank you, Lord Master. I am known as Keros, and the two behind me are Finial and Lars, my students. I swear by the great stars, I will neither harm you nor you people. I also swear to hold my tongue on matters of Yoltai until we stand before the varin council,” the man said in a quick and dignified manner.

The other two approached, moonlight showing Sora their features. One a boy, the other a girl, and neither any older than thirteen. They flanked the older man and bowed deeply, reciting the same vow.

Satisfied, Kaeto nodded, then turned away. “Adarelle, have Kellia find space in the wagons for our new friends,” he said, then rode back into position with the rest of the procession. Adarelle gave him a salute with one thumb to her mouth behind a closed fist, then moved to guide the trio towards one of the wagons near the back.

Keros lingered a moment, looking towards the prince with a somewhat troubled expression on his face.

“What is it?” the prince asked, tone a bit sharper than before. The man ducked his head in a bow towards Kaeto.

“I apologize, my lord, but there is something else you may wish to know. You are not the first party we’ve seen on the dunes tonight,” the man said, looking a bit abashed. “I should have told you sooner; I am truly sorry, my Lord..”

Kaeto waved his hand, impatience clear on his face. “Cut the blabbering man. Describe this other party to me. Were they armed? Liveried? Well, spit it out.”

The man ducked his head again. “Yes, Lord, as you command. There were at least a few thousand if I had to guess my lord. I’m not accustomed to counting soldiers in the south, but they were all armed and liveried. Sadly, I couldn’t distinguish the emblem from where we stood. They did not look to be friendly, my lord. They dragged cages and catapults with them across the sands behind great legged serpents.”

“Bloody stars,” the prince cursed irritably. “This is the last thing we need.” The prince’s expression grew visibly frustrated.

“Thank you, Master Keros,” this information is actually quite valuable. Now, if there is nothing else… No? Good. Please follow my woman, she will see you saddled and your pouch five silver marks heavier. Return him to me when that is done, Adarelle.”

Keros bowed again, murmuring gratitude towards Kaeto before following the young steward. Sora and Lawthe shared another look as the prince rode his mount between them and back into line with the rest of the procession.

The serpents Keros described had to be skarin, giant desert eels with angular snouted heads let the animals dig through the sand with ease. When submerged, their bodies hummed with a deep rumbling that made the sand act like water, and they could swim through it faster than any bird could run.

Sora, Lawthe, Leahan, and Botaran all fell back into place behind the prince. A few minutes later, Adarelle guided Keros back to the party, falling in beside the prince.

The pair were muttering to eachother, and Sora caught a subtle glint of yellow light flash from Lawthe’s silver-glass earing. Likely he was using aiankar, kar born from the great star Aian, the facet of air, to listen in on their conversation.

As they rode, his face remained blank, the moon sinking further towards the eastern horizon. The prince slowed his bird as Adarelle approached after dropping her conversation with Keros and bent towards the woman, speaking in a hushed tone.

“How close are we to the spring water oasis?” he asked. The steward pulled a map from her saddlebag behind her and spread it to show the prince as she surveyed the surroundings with a small sextant.

Lawthe stopped siphoning kar through the small band of silver-glass in his ear, and the glossy metal returned to its usual dull gray-green coloring. Sora glanced at him, but, as before, the man just continued to stare forward, keeping his dark eyes on their surroundings.

A few seconds later, Adarelle put the brass instrument away then pointed to an area on the map. “We should be here at the moment; if we keep moving at this pace, we’ll reach the oasis within the next two hours, just before the moon fully sets, if I’m not mistaken,” she said.

Kaeto sighed, stroking his goatee and cocking his head in thought, sending his long thick braids swinging. “I’d like to scout out the oasis before marching the procession further in case the men Master Keros saw were indeed rebels. I will go myself, with my shield and his student, of course, and I will bring Keros as well. That should do, I think.”

Lawthe and Sora shared a quick glance. The shield spoke with practiced calm. “My Lord, given your station, is that the wisest choice? I do not mean to question you, but,” Lawthe was cut off with a gesture from Kaeto.

“No, Lawthe. I will go myself. I am allowing You and Sora to accompany me, but I must assess this potential threat myself.”

Lawthe bowed his head, his body rigid with suppressed frustration. “If that is your wish, my lord. However, I’m afraid one of us will have to stay.” He looked towards Sora before continuing,” If you would take two of my students, I believe that would be sufficient.”

The prince took another moment to think, hand still on his goatee, then nodded. “That seems wise. Very well, Sora, Leahan, Keros, on me.”

The prince kicked his moa forward without another moment of thought, bird sprinting ahead of the party. Lawthe looked displeased but didn’t raise any objections.

Sora sighed, flashed thank you, with one hand, then urged her mount after the prince. Leahan spurring his own bird to ride a bit further ahead of Sora’s, flashing a subtle rude gesture towards her as he passed.

Adarrelle moved after the prince, face a bit pale, perhaps at the idea of thousands of rebels. Sora smiled as the other girl shook her head and then glanced at the map in her hands.

Despite Leahan’s antics, a feeling of gratitude rose in Sora as she rode forward. Sure, not much was likely to happen, but Lawthe hadn’t stopped her from going. Maybe her chances were better than she imagined. Or perhaps he just trusted Leahan to ‘protect her.’ The thought nearly made her snort.

The five rode hard for around an hour before Adarelle motioned to stop. “We should be able to make out the oasis from the crest of this dune,” she said in a hushed voice.

Sora suppressed a smirk; she didn’t see a reason to stay so quiet. The morning winds would carry their voices back the way they came.

The prince dropped from his saddle into the sand and began climbing up the tallest nearby dune, and the others followed quickly behind him. The thing was so steep they had to crawl on their hands and knees to keep from falling backward.

At the dune’s crest, they all peered over, keeping all but the top halves of their faces hidden behind the sand. Adarelle drew an eyeglass from her bag and handed it to the prince, who began scanning the relatively flat land around the spring water oasis.

Even without the spyglass, Sora’s eyes bulged at what she saw around the small pool of water and fronded shrubs. Apparently, Keros couldn’t count soldiers well. She guessed there were roughly fifteen thousand armed men milled about a camp with rows of neatly arranged tents.

Most of the soldiers bearing the blue lotus of Haetnell were simple spearmen and archers, but what she found stunning was the massive herd of skarin. There were perhaps two thousand sand eels penned in at one end of the camp, long slender bodies moving over the sand like a heat image.

Leahan and Sora shared a brief look. For once, they both seemed to be thinking along the same lines; no hand talk needed.

The creature’s black scales glittered with flecks of white in the pre-dawn light, stars against a pale void of sand. Their long serpentine forms were large enough to carry a litter on their flat-backed shells despite their relatively stubby legs.

The creatures not sleeping walked about with their bellies low to the ground, shovel-like feet churning the sands with as much energy as grazing cattle. From experience, Sora knew that a small pack of skarin could cause more damage than stampeding bulls. Never in a thousand years would she ever choose to face a force like this.

Beside her, the prince tisked, a scowl creasing his sharp features. “Mito take the bastards,” he said. “If this isn’t a risk to the capital, to the kingdom, I don’t know what is.”

Sora nodded. The capital might repel an army like the one below them, but it would be a hard-fought battle.

“Is this the ‘party’ you spoke of, Master Keros?” Sora asked. The pale man maintained an air of calm ease as he stared down at the army below.

He nodded, speaking slowly. “There weren’t so many before. We only saw a fraction of this force.” Sora shook her head, and the prince cursed again.

“Are you satisfied with your own observations, my Lord?” Leahan asked in a perfectly neutral tone.

Frankly, Sora thought coming out here was one of the dumbest things the prince had ever done, but it wasn’t her place to say so.

Kaeto scowled. “Yes, Jah Annan, I believe I’ve seen enough. Let’s get down from here and….” A rasp of metal against leather sent Sora and Leahan leaping to their feet, cutting off the prince mid-sentence. The two Jah Annan’s sword-staves already spun above their heads as they turned to face the attackers.

Six men in the Haetnellian blue lotus livery fell away from their whirling blades. One man stumbled in the sand and began rolling down the dune, screaming until his own sword took him through the chest with a choked-off yell.

Sora leaped towards the three of the remaining men with a lung, spearing the nearest man through the throat before taking a step back and knocking aside strikes from the other two with the haft of her weapon.

The spinning motion became an upward slash, cutting the inside of one man’s thigh. Beside her, Leahan dispatched another Haetnellian man with a brutal bashing strike from the haft of his staff, opening the man’s skull with a crack.

Twisting, the other Jah Annan’s staff rolled in his hands, pushing the other soldier back. With one smooth motion, Leahan took a step forward, sweeping his blade out in front of him, and the man’s head rolled off his shoulders.

Before Sora could finish off the last Haetnellian, somebody grabbed her arm from behind. She nearly brought the spiked butt of her staff up to stab at the person, stopping just before the prince hissed, “Stop! Stop you fools! Let us take him alive.”

Her gaze stayed locked on the man before her, who stood frozen, the tip of her weapon leveled against his neck with a steady two-handed grip. The one with the cut to his thigh was on the ground beside his decapitated friend, blood trickling into the sand beneath him in a constant, heavy flow. The slash was clean; he’d be good as dead in a few moments.

“How will we get him back, my lord? We've only the five birds, and I doubt this skirmish has gone unnoticed,” she replied, tone curt but not so much as to be disrespectful. A growl seemed to escape the prince, and he removed his hand from her arm.

“Fine, get it done with then,” he said, and the last man gave up the pretense of surrender and turned to run, but he was too slow. Sora thrust forward and ran her staff’s blade through his back, sending him to his knees with a soundless howl of pain.

She jerked the weapon free, freehand sending Leahan, too bad, I thought at least one of them would get you this time.

Leahan didn’t bother to reply, maintaining his Jah Annan placidity. Seconds later, sounds from beyond the surrounding dune’s began drifting up around the group.

Turning towards the prince, the steward, and the useless northerner, she hissed, “Get to the birds.” She wiped the blood from her blade with one of the dead men’s tabards before turning to run.

The other three did as she said, likely hearing the approaching clatter of armed men, but Leahan moved slower, no doubt defying the command just to prove a point. Sora felt it was a stupid point.

They all practically leaped into their saddles and kicked their moas into a sprint. The birds’ three-toed feet kicked up black sand as they ran, Sora taking the lead, Kaeto to her left, Adarelle to her right, and Keros in the back. Leahan kept pace beside her.

Behind them, Sora heard the telltale rumble of a charging skarin like thunder in the sand and urged her mount to push harder. She managed to keep her calm despite the sudden lurch of fear in her gut. She focused instead on winding between the dunes in front of them.

The crack of a powder-rifle sounded from their pursuers, kicking up a spray of sand beside them, coating the group in grit. Sora cursed loudly. What she wouldn’t give for some silver-glass at that moment.

Beside her, she caught Leahan pull one of his grenades from beneath his cloak, the pale brown ceramic ball half the size of a man’s head.

With a practiced motion, he cracked the thing’s spark-cap in one hand, lighting the fuse. Just as they passed beneath the shadow of a tall dune, he threw the grenade behind them. Sora felt the sand beneath her bird’s feet begin to shudder as the skarin grew closer.

A crack split the air, twice as loud as the powder-rifle shot, and a faint concussive wave washed over the three. Thankfully The blast was far enough away that it only ruffled the moas’ feathers. Behind them, the tall dune collapsed forward, burying their pursuers in the sand.

Leahan flashed her a quick smirk, there and gone before any of the others could see it. She did her best to keep a calm expression. Why hadn’t she thought of that?

As her adrenaline rush faded, Sora sagged in her saddle, the cut along her back a burning line of pain, making her thoughts challenging to parse. She could feel blood trickling warm and wet on her skin and bit back a curse. There was nothing for it now but to get back to the procession; hopefully, she could stay in the saddle.

They continued to push their birds away from the oasis as the sun finally crested the western horizon, casting the desert in warm yellow light.

After circling around for another half hour, they found their way back to the prince’s procession, breath’s coming in heavy gasps, sweat rolling off their faces. Their moas strained under the weight of their exhaustion, but the prince ignored his mount’s suffering and rode up to Lawthe.

“Master Keros didn’t quite get a good count of their numbers; it’s an army of Haetnellian rebels,” the prince said to his shield. Sora and Leahan rode up beside Lawthe, and she barely managed to stay upright on her bird.

“Have the men change course, Shield. We’ll travel around the oasis and head directly to Jael,” the prince continued. “Adarelle, how long before that army reaches the city?”

The steward jumped in her saddle, shock still painted on her face. The poor girl had never seen live combat before. “Oh, uh, well, an army that size, four nights, at most, I believe, three at least. My Lord,” she said. The ‘my Lord’ came a bit late, but the prince ignored the discourtesy, turning back to Lawthe.

“If we push the birds hard through the day, we can be back in the city within another night,” the prince said.

Lawthe nodded. “That may be, my lord. However, I’m afraid we will lose some of the birds and perhaps even some of the men to the heat before then if we push that hard.”

The prince waved his hand in the air between them dismissively. “What’s the value of a few lives compared to the security of the kingdom, Lawthe. We need to get this information to the council, and we need to give them enough time to prepare for an attack.”

Lawthe nodded slowly. It wasn’t his place to argue with the prince of stars. A pair of grooms approached with fresh birds, but Lawthe waved the boys away, his earring lighting up with five faint lines of color that meshed together into a hint of pale white light.

“As you say, my lord. Let me at least refresh your mount,” the shield said. The prince nodded, and Lawthe reached out to place one hand on the bird’s long neck. A slight sweat broke out on the man’s temples, followed by a trickle of blood from his ear. A moment later, the Moa blinked and straightened slightly; its previous weariness washed away.

The shield eyed the other birds, and Sora half grimaced. Using that much kar would leave the older man drained to his limits. Though, it was unlikely he’d let her take up silver glass before finishing her shield training.

The prince stroked his bird’s neck affectionately. “I thank you, Lawthe. Now, quickly organize the men. We ride hard for Jael.”