The Ranger of Marzanna (The Goddess War #1) - Jon Skovron Page 0,111

That meant no more than six hundred warriors in total. But if not all the clans joined the battle, it would be even less. Could they prevail against even the small standing army at Gogoleth with so few warriors?

“No problem at all, Sonah. Et means when they come, they come because they wan’ t’ fight. Because they believe we win. No Uaine wi’out heart can win.”

“I guess that makes sense. Do you know which clan is coming?”

Blaine shook his head, then grinned. “Less go see!”

Sonya followed Blaine as he wound his way between the tents of Clan Greim toward the sound of the horn. When they reached the edge of the settlement, Sonya looked south across the rolling meadow and saw a mass of people marching toward them out of the mist. Most of them were on foot, but a few rode small, sturdy-looking ponies. There were also oxen slowly pulling wagons stacked with wooden crates.

Blaine squinted hard at the group. “What can yer witch’s eyes see, Sonah?”

“A big group of people coming toward us. There’s an old man with a big white beard riding a pony in front. He has a pennant fixed to the back of his saddle that depicts a silver snake swallowing its own tail on a field of dark green.”

“Clan Dílis!” said Blaine.

“That’s your clan, right?”

“Aye. And that’s me dad, Chief Albion Ruairc!”

“Your dad is the chief of your clan?” asked Sonya.

Blaine looked even more boyishly enthusiastic than usual, which was impressive. “Come, let’s go meet ’em!”

He took off at a run toward the approaching clan, and Sonya kept pace with him.

When they were still a little ways off, Blaine waved his hand over his head and shouted something in the Uaine language. His father lifted his hand to halt the march of his clan, then shouted something back to Blaine and spurred his pony forward. When the two met, Chief Ruairc leapt from his mount with surprising nimbleness for an old man. The two kissed each other on the lips, then heartily embraced. Sonya tried to imagine her father and brother expressing such unselfconscious affection for each other, but could not. It was simply too far beyond either of them.

Blaine spoke to his father in an excited torrent of words, and his father’s reply was just as enthusiastic. Finally, after several moments during which it seemed they were speaking overtop each other, the elder Ruairc turned and waved back to his approaching clan. “Angelo!” he bellowed.

Another old man on a pony came forward. Sonya wondered if only the old people were given ponies? She supposed that made sense. The Aureumian deserter was dressed in the same woolen clothes as the Uaine, but he was clean-shaven, which was an unusual sight among Uaine men. His eyes widened when he saw Sonya.

“An Aureumian?”

“Half,” Sonya said quickly. “My mother is Izmorozian.”

“A child of the war, then,” he guessed. “Where did you grow up?”

“Izmoroz.”

He dismounted and offered her his hand. “I’m Angelo Lorecchio. I take it you’re the one who’s managed to convince the Tighearna to march on the empire?”

“I’ve asked for his help to liberate Izmoroz from the empire, and offered a staging ground for a campaign against Aureum.”

“And if the Uaine then invade Aureum, it would alleviate any concerns you might have of the empire attempting to retake Izmoroz,” observed Angelo. “Not a bad strategy.”

“I merely wish to free my people,” she told him.

“Your father served in the war?”

“He did.”

“What was his name? Perhaps I knew him.”

Sonya hesitated. She wasn’t sure she trusted this Aureumian. But she didn’t really have a reason. Was she merely prejudiced? He had rejected the empire and was now helping the same people she was forging an alliance with. They were allies and she should treat him as such.

“Portinari,” she said finally. “My last name is Portinari.”

Angelo stared at her. “As in Commander Giovanni Portinari?”

“The same,” she said. “I take it you knew him?”

“I served under him for years,” said Angelo. “I take it he’s dead?”

“Slain by imperial soldiers,” said Sonya.

“I… see. You have my condolences. He was a remarkable man.”

“He was,” agreed Sonya.

Chief Ruairc said something to his son and Blaine nodded. “We best continue. Me dad an’ the Tighearna want ta’ speak, and we best start ta’ teach Clan Dílis how ta’ make snowshoes an’ snow gog-els.”

Ruairc remounted his pony and called for his clan to advance. They moved at a slow pace, with Blaine and Sonya walking beside the two old men.

“I haven’t seen eyes like yours since

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