“Where did Luke go?” Siadhal asked Anthanasius while in camp for the night.


    The sun had almost set but looked like it already did from the clearing in the forest unless one looked through the treetops to see the last streaks of light across the sky. The men not assigned elsewhere gathered around the fires as the natural light abated where they talked and joked of their past military exploits.


    “He said he was going on a short ramble through the woods to clear his head.” said Anthanasius, looking around at the numerous fires. “Is he not back?”


    “He is not.”


    “You’re not worried about him, are you? It is hardly past sunset and there’s been no report of Shalmen near.”


    “I actually am, sir, and I’d like to take a party to look for him.”


    “Really, Siadhal, I’ve seen you running from a charging bear as calmly as if it were a mouse, and now you’re trying to work me up about this,” Anthanasius truthfully teased.


    “I know that,” Siadhal said emphatically. “What worries me is that I’m worried; it isn’t natural. A feeling in my stomach if you will.”


    “Take a few to go looking if you would like, but I think if you waited half an hour you wouldn’t have to go at all,” Anthanasius conceded.


    Nevertheless, Siadhal gathered up half a dozen men willing to venture away from the cozy fires and set off into the trees to the east. They didn’t go far before they heard a faint rustle from ahead.


    “Luke?” Siadhal called.


    No answer. He looked to the man beside him who shrugged his shoulders and walked forward a bit toward the sound. Siadhal heard a twig crack somewhere above him a ways off and looked up. A man in characteristic Shalmen guise crouched on a limb and knocked an arrow with eyes fixed on the advancing soldier.


    “Ambush! To the camp!” shouted Siadhal.


    Immediately the man in the trees fell to a Rohian soldier’s arrow while several Shalmen jumped from bushes and ran towards them at their discovery. Some fell, but quickly the Rohian men turned back to the camp to regroup with the others.


    Everyone on the search party burst into the clearing to find the camp awakened and preparing for an attack. Anthanasius, in his calm brilliance, already doubled the sentries around the other reaches of the clearing while the main body mostly faced east after hearing the cry.


    Siadhal and the others joined into a defensive position with the others and no one stirred. The sun had now well set even in the sky above the woods and the brightest light came from the numerous fires behind them. Each man noticed the reflections of him and his companions dancing in silent pantomime on the leafy canopy around where they stood.


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    Anthanasius left his position and walked over to Siadhal after a brief interval and asked him, “Shalmen?”


    Siadhal hardly needed to nod in answer for Anthanasius knew what danger his friend’s uncharacteristic caution gave them notice of; they merely looked at each other.


    Anthanasius stood as if paralyzed as his mind transported him back to the night a few weeks ago in the forest. Most of the men waiting in the dusk for an unseen enemy didn’t know one from among them was missing.


    Missing. First Agar and now Luke. Likely killed or captured unawares by the ambush party and now in the deepening darkness, the chance of finding him grew slim.


    The instant of paralysis passed and Anthanasius’ eyes regained their determined look and showed the interior disposition of this man once he made up his mind.


    He spoke to his second-in-command in a quiet but steady voice. “Get the fires out and send an empty horse back over the path. We’ll take to the forest and work northward.”


    Siadhal nodded curtly and turned to gather assistants who he told to extinguish the fires and another who helped him remove all the remaining necessaries from a horse at the edge of the camp. He didn’t look at Anthanasius when he received his order; he feared it might mean leaving a friend behind. He knew the necessity but didn’t envy him making the decision.


    The circle of men knew from these preparations that flight was imminent and nearly let down their guard. They kicked the last fires into smoldering heaps of dust, but at that moment those near the northward road, and then all, heard the sound of many feet approaching in a rush. It didn’t seem too many, but the entire company tensed up at the sound and those closest gathered themselves into a tighter, more defined line.


    The enemy came on without torches but some Rohians gathered together and attacked an exposed flank of the struggling mass, shortening the battle and likely saving a few comrade’s lives in the process.


    The skirmish didn’t last long and those who came forward quickly went back to their posts to await further orders. Anthanasius and Siadhal feared lest the rush prove a distraction and anxiously waited for others to break out on other sides, but none came. Struck by an idea, he hurried forward to the battle line and edged through his soldiers—none seriously hurt—and dragged back one of the dead into the circle. Told to bring a light, Siadhal rummaged under the pile of earth kicked onto the nearest fire and felt around for a glowing ember and rekindled it to a small flame, which he brought to his commander.


    Anthanasius grabbed the branch and bent over the fallen foe’s body. He scanned up and down the breastplate but didn’t find what he sought. Undeterred, he pulled the dead man’s helmet off and held it at an angle to reflect the firelight. Siadhal didn’t know his commander’s intentions at first but recollected the earlier conversation once Anthanasius solemnly showed him the textured insignia.


    “Attach this helm to the horse before you send it back. Eshua willing, it will reach Lord Marillac.”


    Anthanasius and Siadhal both leapt to their feet; Siadhal to complete the order; Anthanasius because he heard a fresh noise.


    Preparing the company for flight didn’t take long; they disappeared into the woods behind after merely giving parcels of food and supplies to random soldiers and informing a few dispersed men of the plan so they could spread the message of heading northward through the woods.


    The sound of a neighing horse from behind told Anthanasius that Siadhal completed his order and a further wait was unnecessary.


    The whole company slowly disappeared into the western side of the clearing but, had they more time to tarry, the forest would have revealed a further disturbing piece of information. The moon soon emerged from behind a cloud and lit the clearing where the fires played more clearly than if they had not been reduced to smoldering piles of dirt-covered ash. It also shone on the scene of battle, and on the helmetless man whose arm became exposed in the fight. It revealed a brand mark.