account the threat the elements represented. Fidelias checked the pulse at the man's throat and found it there, still strong, if slow. His lips were blue. The cold. If the swordsman was not warmed, and quickly, he would die.
Fidelias debated allowing it to happen for a moment. Odiana remained an unknown quantity, and as long as she had Aldrick with her, she would be difficult to move against. Without the swordsman, Fidelias could remove her at leisure, and if Fidelias was fortunate, perhaps Aldrick's death would unhinge her entirely.
Fidelias grimaced and shook his head. Aldrick could be arrogant, insubordinate, but his loyalty to Aquitaine was unquestioned, and he was a valuable resource. Besides which, Fidelias liked working with the man. He was a professional and understood the priorities of operating in the field. Fidelias, as his commander, owed him a certain amount of loyalty, protection. Convenient as it might be to him, in the long term, he could not allow the swordsman to come to grief.
Fidelias took a moment to draw strength from the earth, pouring into him in a sudden flood. He jerked the sword from the tree's trunk, and peeled Aldrick's hand from its hilt. Then he picked up the man and slung him over one shoulder. His balance wavered dangerously, and he took a moment to breathe, to steady himself, before taking up the naked sword and turning, with Aldrick, to march away from the river, up out of the flood-saturated ground of the river's course.
Vamma shaped out a shelter from a rocky hillside, and Fidelias ducked into it and out of the storm. Etan provided ample kindling and wood, and Fidelias managed to coax a pile of shavings into flame using the flint and Aldrick's sword. By slow degrees, he built up the fire, until the inside of the furycrafted shelter began to grow warm, even cozy.
He leaned back against the wall, his eyes closed, and dispatched Vamma and Etan again. As tired as he was, there was still a job to do. Fidelias remained silent for a moment, letting his furies gather information about those who still moved in the wild storm outside.
When he opened his eyes again, Aldrick was awake and watching him.
"You found me," the swordsman said.
"Yes."
"Blade isn't much good against a river."
"Mmmm."
Aldrick sat up and rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand, wincing,
gathering himself back together with the resilience of his craft-and of comparative youth, Fidelias thought. He wasn't young anymore. "Where's Odiana?"
"I don't know yet," Fidelias said. "The storm offers considerable danger. I've found two moving groups, so far, and I think there's at least one more that I can't pinpoint."
"Which one is Odiana in?"
Fidelias shrugged. "One is heading to the northeast, and one to the southeast. I thought I felt something more directly east of here, but I can't be certain."
"Northeast isn't anything," Aldrick said. "Maybe one of the steadholts. Southeast of here, there isn't even that. Turns into the Wax Forest and the plains beyond it."
"And east is Garrison," Fidelias said. "I know."
"She's been taken, or she'd have stayed close to me."
"Yes."
Aldrick rose. "We have to find out which group she's in."
Fidelias shook his head. "No, we don't."
The swordsman narrowed his eyes. "Then how are we supposed to find her?"
"We don't," Fidelias said. "Not until the mission is finished."
Aldrick went silent for several seconds. The fire popped and crackled. Then he said, "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you say that, old man."
Fidelias looked up at him and said, "Aquitaine assigned you to this personally, didn't he?"
Aldrick nodded, once.
"You've been his right hand through most of this. You know all the details. You're the one who has handled the money, the logistics. Yes?"
"What's your point?"
"What do you think is going to happen if the mission fails, hmm? If Aquitaine is in danger of exposure? Do you think he's just going to give you a wink and a nod and ask you not to mention it where anyone could overhear? Or do you think he's going to make sure that no one ever finds your body, much less what you know about what he is planning."
Aldrick stared steadily at Fidelias, then tightened his jaw and looked away.
Fidelias nodded. "We finish the mission. We stop whoever is going to the local count, send in the Windwolves, and turn the Marat loose. After that, we'll find the girl."
"To the crows with the mission," Aldrick spat. "I'm going to find her."
"Oh?" Fidelias asked. "And how are you going to