They had been marching for weeks, thousands of soldiers guarding thousands of refugees. People from all over Fellenden were coming home to the central city of the entire island, the place that once, long ago, had housed the royal House of Fellenden. Now, it was a broken shell of its former glory, yet it was the best place for Abigail’s army to shelter during the winter. Centrally located on the Isle of Fellenden, it gave her strategic options if Zuhl or Phane should choose to attack during the winter, an unwise choice, yet not beyond reason for either tyrant, considering how little they valued the lives of those who served them.
The weather had been cold and clear for most of the journey. Only in the last few days had the sky clouded over. Abigail had prodded her army to move faster, hoping to reach shelter before the inevitable snows began to fall. The soldiers could handle the faster pace, but the refugees could not. They trailed behind the bulk of the army for leagues, struggling to carry all that was left of their possessions to their new temporary home.
“General Markos,” Abigail said, “send half the heavy cavalry forward to scout and secure the city and the other half back to ensure we don’t lose any stragglers in this snow.”
“At once, Lady Abigail,” General Markos said, saluting, fist to heart, before wheeling his horse and tending to his orders.
“I doubt we’ll get everyone inside before dark,” Anatoly said. “Not even sure it would be wise.”
“I concur,” Magda said. “Zuhl is not above leaving a few nasty surprises in his wake to discourage those who might pick the bones of his conquest.”
Abigail nodded, trying to gauge the time of day from the uniformly bleak sky.
“We’ll make camp on the outskirts and move into the city in a careful and orderly manner,” she said. “After bringing these people all this way, I don’t want to blindly walk them into a trap.”
Conner rode up, trailed by two Ithilian royal guards. “Scout riders just returned,” he said. “Irondale has fallen without a fight.”
“Blasted cowards,” Torin said, biting off his words.
“Could be they’re biding their time,” Anatoly said, “waiting for the right moment to strike.”
“Either way, Zuhl’s brutes have a warm place to sleep for the winter,” Abigail said. “At least we know where they are.”
“General Kern reports that the Rangers have done some damage to the enemy forces but not enough to make a difference,” Conner said. “He’s starting to lose men and horses to the cold. The snow started falling a week ago farther north and hasn’t stopped since.”
“Recall him at once,” Abigail said. “We’re at a stalemate until spring.”
“For any significant operations, I’m afraid you’re right,” Magda said, “though there are still some things we can do to make life uncomfortable for our unwelcome guests.”
“I’m all for that,” Abigail said with a sidelong grin, “but let’s see to these people first before we go poking Zuhl in the eye.”
***
A week later they’d cleared the city of the wild dogs and other unpleasant scavengers that had taken refuge in the ruins and they were beginning to rebuild. Abigail made the defenses a priority. Even though she knew that stone walls were no match for the kind of magic Zuhl could bring to bear, she felt better knowing that the people would breathe easier when they were surrounded by a stout wall and heavy Iron Oak gates.
A large portion of the Fellenden family keep had been shattered beyond repair, but part of it was salvageable. Abigail had taken that section as her command post and quarters for herself and her command staff. A single tower still stood on one corner of the keep. Abigail ordered that it be fitted with a guard house and a warning bell. The manor was cold and foreboding at first, but after a few days of work, it started to take on the lived-in feel of a home.
She had taken simple quarters that had probably been occupied by a servant before the attack, but they were close to the master bedchamber that she’d converted into a council hall and strategy room.
Several days after the last of the refugees had been moved into the city, Abigail assembled all of her advisors around the council table. She sat at the head of the table with her sword belt hooked over the corner of her chair. While she felt relatively secure within the keep, she wasn’t about