We were only in camp another couple days after that, and then we marched east. I couldn't exactly count them, but my understanding was our full size was just shy of ten companies--if we'd been a full one, that might have pushed our number up to a thousand soldiers, but oh well. As I'd been told by the General, we acted as a vanguard of sorts; we were honestly more of a sacrificial limb in case the army ran into something, but we were also not actually intending to deploy outside our own borders. There were, apparently, warrior clans who would actively attack the enemy, but our job was strictly within Belma.

As far as I could tell, about one in three of the scouts was using my power as God of Eyes at least once per day. Myself, I still moved with (and sometimes on) the supply wagons, so I never really got a clear look at how many scouts we had, but I could tell there were a couple far ahead, and a couple on either side. My only real guess as to how many scouts were deployed, though, came from trying to figure out how many were missing from the Company. My best guess was about six people at a time, but rotating through a couple squads worth of scouts.

The terrain was reasonably flat now, with only very low hills that rolled through this part of the continent. There were higher hills to the north, and maybe something far off to the east, but I wasn't all that interested in looking ahead.

Honestly, in spite of the martial arts training and the excitement of being an active god for the first time, I was weighing the very real possibility of being killed out here. If we were faced by a superior force, nothing I could do would tip the scales; most likely, nothing that Goddess General Murn could do would tip the scales, either. And fleeing through unfamiliar wilderness, even as a god, was not a good prospect, especially if the enemy were on my heels.

It was another few days before we made another permanent camp. The location that Murn (or whoever was actually leading) chose was auspicious--a large hill that gave us a clear view of a large north-south river, one that any enemy would need to cross--but it didn't feel right to me. It seemed a very predictable place to make camp, the kind of thing that enemy scouts would have looked at ahead of time, the kind of place that enemy generals would bet on us making camp. Defensible, yes, but predictable.

The Olesport Company was tasked only briefly with remaining at the head of the camp, and then we were moved behind, and Commander Bard told us we would be guarding the supplies for the whole camp, as well as providing rearguard and keeping watch over any supply shipments that would come in. Which, fair enough, glad that our half company wasn't going to be the deciding factor in the front lines or anything, but it creeped me out.

As quartermaster, I was now insanely busy. I wasn't actually managing the rest of the army's supplies, but I was, effectively, the officer in charge of proving that nothing was stolen, and I took that seriously. Here on the front, the halfbreed warriors weren't eager to challenge us anymore, but they still didn't like us... or me, specifically, after the first few times I accused their guards of stealing supplies.

Unlike Bard, the commanders of most other companies weren't particularly eager to punish people who took food--the first time or two, at least. There were only two halfbreed soldiers dumb enough to either not realize they were consistently getting caught, or arrogant enough to think that their commanders had given them a free pass, and neither survived to fight in the first battle. By the third time they were caught, even the most lax commander realized that they needed to take action. And fortunately, the Goddess of Blades had made it a divine taboo on penalty of death to lie in her name, so these things resolved themselves in a very quick, bloody fashion.

Sooner or later, the peace was destined to break, and I woke one morning to find that a good two companies were being sent north, and another northwest. North along the river I understood, but northwest meant that the enemy could already be behind us, and that was upsetting.

We didn't see the action directly, but fewer soldiers came home from the north, while the northwest came back late but intact. From then on, there were usually between two and four companies out on patrol at any time, including one company that had the unhappy duty of being night guards. Over and over, I couldn't help feeling nervous, but I wasn't sure if it was some godly intuition or just panic.

Then one night, in the middle of the night, I woke up to a surge of silver soulfire, hearing a familiar voice--I thought it was Tammy--scream "Enemy attack! Southwest! Enemy atta--"

Then her voice stopped. Others could only guess, but I knew, as the silver soulflame turned to ash. I knew.

The army didn't exactly practice drills to prepare us for getting up at ass-o-clock at night, but by the time I struggled into my poor iron breastplate and struggled over into position with the supplies, multiple squads had already moved into formation. I heard a lot of complaining about not being able to see, which made my heart clench with fear. Many times, sitting with the night guards, I had thought that the moonless nights of this planet were too dark, but now knowing that the enemy was counting on it, that was too much to contemplate.

Although it felt very, very strange to do, I said a prayer out loud... to myself. "Xethram, now of all times, please help us to See."

And suddenly, not only I, but damn near all of the nearby soldiers saw through the inky blackness of the night. I knew immediately when it reached people because I heard bowstrings being pulled and released almost instantly.

Then the shouting began.

"The low slopes to the south! Four... five squads worth!" Bard apparently couldn't do the voice amplification trick, because I heard him bellowing at the top of his lungs. "Sixth Company! To the south! To arms!"

"To the south! To arms!" came an echo, then another, as squad leaders turned heroes rose up out of the darkness of the Belman Army to foil the invaders. Moments later, torches flared up all around camp, moving to the perimeter to try to find those who were attacking.

And suddenly, in what must have been response to a prayer, I felt the presence of Alanna pass into the camp, and each of those torches became a beacon, casting a good four times as much light as it should onto the surrounding slopes. Anyone staring into those torches--anyone approaching the camp, in other words--would have been blinded, but for those in the camp, it was like a set of floodlights had been switched on.

At that point, the attack was all but over. Most likely, some of the attackers had lost their nerve as soon as they were detected, but our company spotting and shooting them in the dark, and the other companies producing powerful light to reveal them to the rest, that was all it took.

When I felt sure it was safe, I let my own ...prayer, I guess, lapse. I heard many muttered prayers of thanks, and then torches came out from our company as well as the soldiers took stock of who we killed, and who we lost.

My feet picked their way to Tammy's body, without me really stopping to think about it. She had an arrow sticking out of her eye socket, and her face was frozen in an expression I wasn't quite sure I understood. I wasn't... sure how to handle it. All I could do was kneel and close her one good eye, and rest my hand on her forehead for a minute. "You saved us," I said. "You saved me. Thank you."

I felt her ashen flame in my soulflame jar moving--not frozen in place like the woman from the ship's hold, who had been threatening to become a wraith--and tried to release it, but she didn't want to go. I was going to dive into my Little God's Room, to speak with her, but there was too much to do.

Bard found me next.

"I guess it was your God that helped us out there." He looked me up and down. "Did you do that?"

"Yes, sir." I stood up and tried to force myself to stand at attention, but... with all the things running through my head, my discipline was a little lacking.

"I thought I heard you. Xethram, you said. Most likely, unless the Goddess of Blades objects, the army seems like it will have another patron." Bard looked back at the army, whose torches were slowly returning to normal amounts of light. "Alanna came to us as well. She likes to respond to these kinds of requests. Not so much when it comes to fighting."

"She is a goddess of Light, sir," I pointed out tamely. "Not death."

"True enough. But she is capable of it, as she's shown." Bard bit his lip. "Can't argue. She helps when she helps. Saved a bunch of lives. Xethram, too."

Someone else stepped up, and Bard stepped away. A quick exchange of words, and Bard was off to get reports from all his squad leaders. After that, presumably, he would meet with the other commanders and the General.

Me... I returned to where I had been sleeping and sat there. Tammy wouldn't be the last of my followers to die, I knew, but her death weighed heavily. She had been... eager. Interested. Friendly.

She had been warm, and now she was growing cold.

"Get some rest," someone advised me. "They'll need us early."

I laid down to sleep, but knew rest wouldn't come with it.