Alina looked at the bodies of her men.
She closed her eyes.
The pain was sharp. A physical thing.
Wood saw the corpses.
His face was ashen.
His jaw tightened so hard, a muscle jumped in his cheek.
"Alina..."
His voice was choked.
"Alina, if their reinforcements are here... if they're this... this good..."
"We have to leave."
"We have to."
"Now."
"Or you'll be in danger, too."
Alina immediately refused.
"No."
Her voice was flat.
"But Alina! Andre... they're... they're dead! They're all dead!"
"We don't know that!" she snapped, her voice cracking like a whip.
The sudden force made him flinch.
"We don't know if Andre and the others are alive or dead!"
"These men..." she pointed at Vilin. "They were found. They were killed."
"The others... were not."
"Mabey they were just captured."
"They... are... alive."
"And even if they are dead..."
She looked down at Vilin's face. So young.
"...we bring their bodies back."
"But..."
"Don't," she said, her voice dropping to an iron-clad whisper.
"Don't try to change my mind."
"The day... the day you all joined me... I swore."
"I swore I would never abandon anyone."
"This..."
She touched her own chest, a gesture of pure self-loathing.
"This was my mistake."
"I led them into this."
Wood looked at her, at the iron resolve in her eyes.
His heart was breaking.
He knew that look.
"Then... then I'll go negotiate!" he said, a desperate, stupid offer.
"I'll... I'll go talk to them! See if we can... ransom them. We have silver."
Alina instantly shut him down.
"No."
"I'll go! I can-"
"You will not," she said, her voice suddenly cold and sharp.
"You don't have magic."
"You're a warrior. In the open."
"You'd be cut down by their archers before you got within fifty yards of the wall."
"I... I have to try!" Wood argued.
"No."
Her voice softened.
"I will go."
"My Lady…."
Wood's voice faltered.
He stopped.
It was useless.
After all these months... he knew almost nothing about her past.
Where she came from.
Why she became a bandit.
But he knew one thing for certain.
One, simple, terrifying fact.
Once Alina made up her mind...
Ten bulls couldn't drag her back.
She was going.
"Wood."
"Yes... Alina."
"Gather everyone. All of them."
"The supplies are loaded. Good."
"Prepare to go home."
His head snapped up. "Home? But... what about you?"
Alina looked past him.
Toward the outer gate of Windsor Castle.
"I am going to... negotiate."
"...with them."
.....
Roland waited.
He was pressed flat against the cold, damp stone of the castle wall.
Hidden.
His thirty newly-armed slaves were scattered nearby.
Silent.
This was his move.
To wait for the quarry to walk into his trap.
He knew nothing about this "bandit" team.
Nothing.
Except that they were highly skilled.
'They'll come,'
'They have to.'
Violette stood silently beside him.
She wasn't pressed against the wall.
She just... stood there.
In a sliver of shadow, she was perfectly invisible.
...
Time ticked by.
Minute...
by minute.
A fly buzzed.
One of the slaves coughed. It was loud.
Roland shot him a look that could kill.
The man froze.
The empty field outside the castle...
Remained empty.
Roland was even beginning to think the enemy had fled.
'Dammit.'
'Did I miscalculate?'
'Maybe they cut their losses. Maybe they just... left.'
'Maybe they don't care about their men.'
Just then, Roland frowned.
He blinked.
He stared at the mini-map in his mind.
A new dot.
It had suddenly... appeared.
At the edge of his map.
It wasn't a red dot.
And it wasn't a white dot.
Which means A Bloodline Awakener.
This one...
It was... blue.
A bright, magical blue.
With a glowing, white-ish center.
'What the hell is that?'
'A new category?'
'Blue... a friendly? A neutral?'
'Or... something else?'
The dot was moving.
Slowly.
Steadily.
Right toward the gate.
A moment later, a woman appeared.
She stepped out from the cover of the forest.
Alone.
Roland's breath caught.
He had to admit...
She was stunning.
A cascade of pure white hair.
A face that could stop a man's heart.
Easily on par with Violette after her awakening.
Roland's mind raced.
'Who is she?'
'An enemy?'
'But... this is just stupid.'
'Walking right out into the open?'
'Alone?'
'No sneak attack? No diversion?'
'Is this... a trap?'
Violette's hand tightened on her dagger.
She leaned in, her voice a bare whisper.
"My lord."
"I sense... magic."
"A lot of it."
'A mage.'
Roland nodded.
"Hold," he ordered, his voice just as low.
"Don't move. "
"Let's see what she wants."
The woman... Alina...
She walked until she was about fifty meters from the broken outer gate.
Then, she stopped.
She stood in the open field, a single, beautiful, undefended target.
She had chosen to appear this way. She was worried.
Worried about Andre. About the others.
She feared that if she approached using her magic... .
It would be seen as an act of extreme hostility.
A threat.
And they might.. kill the prisoners.
If they were still alive.
"Hello!" Alina shouted.
Her voice was clear. Strong. It echoed off the walls.
"Come on out and talk!"
She stared right at the gate.
Right at the spot where Roland was hiding.
"I know you're lying in ambush at the gate!"
Roland was surprised.
'She... she knows?'
'She can sense us?'
'This mage is... powerful.'
Alina forced down the killing intent in her heart.
It was a physical effort. Like swallowing acid.
'They killed my men.'
one of her life's creeds... the one that defined her...
----All debts must be paid.
'Later.'
'First... I have to save the living.'
Roland thought for a moment.
No point in hiding. She'd already made him.
He decided to just shout back.
"And who are you?"
He stayed hidden. No need to give her a target.
"The one who conquered Windsor Castle."
Roland was speechless.
'Well, that's direct.'
'No games. No lies.'
'So this woman... she must be the bandit leader.'
Alina called out, her voice tight with a hope.
"My men."
"The scouts you took."
"Are they still alive?"
Roland let a small, cold smile touch his lips.
'Got you.'
He shouted back, his voice full of casual, arrogant confidence.
"Alive? Oh yes, they're alive and kicking."
He paused, then added:
"You want to ransom them?"
Alina's eyes lit up.
She slowly... slowly... let out a breath she'd been holding for an hour.
It felt like a stone had just been lifted from her heart.
'Alive.'
'They're alive.'
Thank the gods.
But... just as important...
This confirmed her second theory.
'He's negotiating.'
'He's... ransoming.'
This was not an Imperial regular army.
This was not the act of a high-and-mighty noble.
Those arrogant, pig-headed lords... they would never deign to negotiate with a "bandit" like her.
Then they would have executed them.
They would have put their heads on the pikes outside this gate.
This...
This was someone else.
Someone... like her.
A pragmatist.
"Yes," she called back, her voice firm again.
"Name your price."
Roland smiled.
This was exactly what he wanted.
'Looks like this woman actually cares about her people.'
'This is too easy.'
He didn't even have to think.
"Equipment for fifty men."
"Full sets. Armor, swords, spears, helmets."
"Plus... three wagonloads of grain."
He let that hang in the air.
"I know you have it."
His plan was starting with an exorbitant demand.
If she refused, he'd negotiate down. Basic tactics.
He didn't really expect her to say yes.
Hearing this, Alina's face went dark.
Pitch dark.
A storm of pure, unadulterated fury.
'Fifty sets of armor?!'
'THREE WAGONS OF GRAIN?!'
She had moved heaven and earth for those resources.
She had fought. Bled.
Her men had died for that grain.
And he wanted her to just...
Just hand them over?!
For ten men?
"No..." she seethed through gritted teeth.
Her voice was a low, dangerous growl.
"That's... too much."
"Go lower."
"Heh."
Roland let out a short, cold laugh.
Time for the bluff.
"Negotiation's over, then."
He made his voice sound bored. Annoyed.
"I'll go feed your men to the corpses."
"I'm sure they're hungry."
...
"NO!"
Alina screamed.
The sound was torn from her throat.
A raw, panicked, desperate sound.
Then, silence.
As if all the air, all the fight, had been let out of her.
She sagged.
Her shoulders slumped.
She looked... defeated.
"The equipment..." she called out, her voice weak.
Broken.
"...I can give you. The equipment for fifty."
"But... the grain..."
"Less... please... I need..."
Roland: "..."
He was stunned.
'Wait...'
'You're...'
'You're... actually agreeing?'
'She really cares about them.'
"Fine," he called out, cutting her off.
"Deal."
"The equipment for fifty. And two wagon of grain."
"Move the supplies to the road heading north."
"Leave them there. After the exchange, I'll give you your men."
...
"The North?"
Alina heard this.
She froze for a second.
A new thought.
'This person... he's going to the North?'
'The Northern Reaches?'
'Who... who is this?'
'A new Baron? An exile?'
Before she could process the thought...
A new sound.
A shout.
Frantic.
Terrified.
"ALINA!"
Roland saw him, too.
A man.
Sprinting from the forest.
Sprinting full-tilt toward them, waving his arms in a panic.
It was Wood.
"OUR TEMPORARY CAMP!"
"IT'S UNDER ATTACK!"
"A... A... A MASSIVE HORDE OF CORPSES IS COMING!"