“I’m homeless, Sam. I’ve no family, no country. Nothing. But I hate the Calidorians more than any other people. I want to fight against them.” He remembered that people said he sounded evil when he spoke Abask, so he added in his old language, “And I made a mistake and I must do what I can to remedy it, even if it’s in vain, even if I die.”
March looked toward Abask, the hills dark against the sky. He might have had a home in those hills, living a peace-ful life, if it wasn’t for King Aloysius and the men who fought for him. And if it hadn’t been for Prince Thelonius and his betrayal. The two royal brothers hated each other, but to-gether they had caused the death of March’s whole family, his whole people. They had torn March’s life completely from what it might have been. He’d never get that back. All he could do was take each day and try to do what was right. He’d do what he could to help Edyon. Edyon was the only loyalty he had now.
As he looked to the hills, March saw a faint spot of light. He got to his feet, and as he watched, two more lights ap-peared. Fires?
Sam came to stand next to March. “Do you think it’s them?”
“Dunno, but it’s someone. And if we can see them, they can see us.” March stomped on their own fire, putting it out. “We’ll go over there when it’s light. I don’t think it’s a good idea to wander into someone’s camp in the dark.”
Sam was grinning with excitement. “We could be joined up by this time tomorrow.”
“Let’s hope they want new recruits.”
“Every army wants recruits.”
Let’s hope they want me.
* * *
• • •
As soon as it was light they set off. By midmorning they found the remains of the campfires they’d seen in the night, but all the boys—if it was the boys—had gone.
Sam walked around, peering at the ground. “I’m sure it’s them. There were a lot of people here, and, look, they’ve left footprints going that way.”
“Yes, funny how they’ve done that. And how they lit fires for us to see. Almost like they want us to find them.”
But Sam was already following the trail. March hurried after him, scanning around all the time. Soon they entered a narrow, wooded valley that was still and silent. They contin-ued alongside a stream, making slow but steady progress, until Sam stopped abruptly and pointed up to his left.
A boy was silhouetted against the skyline. He pointed his spear across the valley—and there was another figure, also holding a spear. They both gave quick, short, whooping shouts and ran down the valley sides. It was an impossibly dangerous and stupid thing to do. They’ll trip and break their necks, March thought.
But that didn’t happen. Instead the boy on the right leaped off a rock, turning in the air and hanging upside down, so it looked like he’d land on his head.
Sam gasped.
The figure flipped upright at the last moment, landing on his feet and speeding away, up the far side of the valley. The other boy leaped down, performing a cartwheel in the air, and then he too was running away. A moment later they had both vanished into the distance.
“Did you see that boy on the right? It was almost as if he was flying! I can’t wait to do that.”
“We’re joining the army, not the circus, Sam.”
“I know. I know, but still—they looked great.” Sam set off after the boys. “I think they’re showing us the way to go.”
March looked behind and saw another boy high up on the valley side. He had a feeling there was no going back now. But almost immediately Sam came to another halt. “Shits. The trail leads up that cliff.”
“We’ll have to find another way.” March looked around and was reminded of something. The silence and stillness—it was as if they were being watched. No, it wasn’t just that they were being watched. It felt like when the sheriff’s men had been following him and Edyon and Holywell. Just like when Holywell got killed with a spear. Nothing happened. Not a leaf moved, not a bird sang.
Nothing.
Perhaps March was just imagining it all.
But then he heard a bird.
No, not a bird—a flapping noise.
Sam yelped and grabbed March, pulling him to the side as a spear pierced the ground a pace away. Attached to the end of the spear was a piece of fabric.