to know she’s loose. You were right to come to me, Treason.”
The child stared him directly in the eye. “My name is Chiana,” she said flatly. “And I am a princess.”
Roelstra’s eyes narrowed for an instant, and then he burst out laughing. “By the Father of Storms—so it is, and so you are! You must have given Andrade a time! I always knew Palila and I should have produced a wildcat instead of those mewling kittens at Castle Crag! Very well, Princess Chiana, go with your sister and make yourself presentable.” He pinched the girl’s chin. “My daughters do not appear in rags and dirt.”
Pandsala concealed her chagrin at hearing the child so openly acknowledged. She took Chiana away to her own small tent and gave the girl water, soap, and orders to scrub herself head to heels. A servant was dispatched to find something Chiana could put on in place of her filthy dress. Then Pandsala set off in search of her father again, needing to be at his side to hear his revised plans.
She had just glimpsed him leaving his tent when the third—but not the final—shock of the day appeared. A scout, arrow still in his shoulder and blood staining his tunic, fell to his knees in the grass and looked up at the High Prince.
“Your grace, the Desert attacks! Now!”
Chapter Thirty
Rohan gathered the reins more tightly in his gauntleted hands and shifted his shoulders against the restricting battle harness. The stiff leather tunic was dyed dark blue and decorated across chest and back with brass plating that shone as if made of gold. Chay was similarly attired in dark red leather, and Davvi wore the turquoise of Syrene princes. They were as gaudy as whill-birds and that was precisely the idea, for their soldiers would be able to see them a measure distant. So would the enemy, but Rohan only shrugged. The armor was for their protection, of course, but it was more ceremonial than anything else. They would not be in the thick of the battle today. This would be no swift fight, but a pitched battle according to all the traditional rules of war. They were to act as princes and battle commanders, not as warriors on the field.
Rohan quieted the restive Pashta, knowing the stallion was eager for a fight he would not be allowed to join—unless Chay was utterly wrong and they started to lose. Even then a wall of swords and shields would spring up around Rohan, protecting him. Others would die, he told himself, but not him. Not their Dragon Prince.
Davvi was still grinning at the news Maarken had supplied a little while ago; Andrade had told him about Roelstra’s troops and the dragons. “What I don’t understand is why they were in the south at all,” he remarked as they waited for Chay’s signal to begin the battle.
“Some sort of flanking action, I suppose. Although why he thought we’d send soldiers there and give them a hard ride uphill to the fight, I have no idea.” He chuckled in spite of himself. “A dragon feeding-ground! I wish I could’ve seen it!”
“Maybe we ought to drive them down that way so your dragons can finish them off,” Davvi mused.
“I’ll settle for a nice, clean fight on an open plain, thanks, without hatchlings biting my nose. There’s no guarantee the little fiends would recognize their prince!”
The dragons had done Rohan a prodigious favor, weakening Roelstra’s host both in numbers and in morale. When the story had been spread through the Desert forces, the warriors had cheered their prince, completely certain now of victory. Rohan himself felt a strange excitement throbbing in his veins, not the anticipation of battle or even of winning the battle, though those things were part of it. He felt almost as Sioned had described her emotions when she rode the sunlight: swift, free, touched by the Goddess’ own colors.
With the army behind them, at Chay’s signal, he and Davvi crested a low rise overlooking Roelstra’s camp. Troops were spread out all over the plain, about five measures square of prime battleground. While no advantages would come to either side on it, neither did it present any difficulties. The routing of nearly two hundred by dragons that morning had made the numbers just about equal, still tilted in Roelstra’s favor but acceptable to Chay. For Rohan had the invaluable impact of surprise on his side. The alarm had just gone up in the camp below, and people scurried