Meronion's army made good time sailing up the river Rubo, and before too long the ships unloaded her and her the troops at Moc's Fork, far to the north of the capital, where the Rubo split. From here Meronion could see the rough hills and forests that marked the beginning of Lorgorin land. The sky was gloomy and overcast as it often was up here, the year long sunshine of Dardano nowhere to be seen. They couldn't go any further up the river as it grew too narrow and tumultuous for the bigger ships, so from here on out, they would be marching. It was strange to think that this icy and rushing river, and the broad river lazily flowing through the capital, were one and the same.

It had snowed recently, so Meronion decied to let her soldiers camp until the snow melted down. In the meantime they would be repairing and restoring the fortifications built here during the last campaign. It should have been too early in the year for snow, but that was the north for you. It wasn't supposed to be a drawn-out war, just a short raid on Lorgorin territory to send a message, which was why she had agreed to bring Ophelion. She wondered how her softhearted younger sister would react once the troops started burning down farms and spearing babies. Time she learned what it took to keep an empire safe.

She was restless after so long cooped up in a ship, so she went out to scout the area, taking her attendants and sister with her. She'd been to the Fork many times and knew it well. If anything was off, she would spot it. On the way she stopped to check in with some of the soldiers, getting a feel for the views of the rank and file. It raised their morale to have their princess and Milem come by to talk to them personally. Usually she wouldn't mingle with noumens, but they were risking their life for the empire. They'd earned the right to speak to her.

It wasn't easy to survey the territory with Ophelion constantly whining. The girl was struggling through the snow in her cotton and linen robes. Meronion was warm in her furred, woolen coat and rough soldiers' boots. Ophelion had refused to wear similar clothes, showing the usual snobbery against wool.

"I told you to bring proper boots, and wear breeches," Meronion said. Watching Ophelion wade through the snow like a lost puppy was amusing. It almost made her forget how her hip throbbed in the cold.

"Breeches?" Ophelion said in indignation. "I am a princess. A princess does not wear breeches."

Meronion flipped open her coat to reveal her legs.

"Let me amend: a lady does not wear breeches," Ophelion said.

"You little brat." Meronion playfully pushed Ophelion into a large snowdrift, prompting shriek.

"Argh, I hate this stuff!" Ophelion furiously brushed herself off while still half submerged in the snow, her hair white with it. "What kind of horrid place has ice falling out of the sky?"

"The cold is good. The cold makes you strong." Lomberd said, extending a hand to pull the younger princess up.

"Hmph. If you ask me, the fact people don't have fur is a message from Oma that we're not supposed to be this far north. Didn't we all come from the south originally anyway?"

"According to Tarcassian," Meronion said. "I don't like it either, but the price of being royal is not being able to choose where or how you serve."

Meronion could see the implied message was not lost on Ophelion, who wouldn't meet her gaze.

"It's warm down in Amott, even warmer than in Dardano," Meronion added. "It's mostly desert. I've heard it rarely rains at all."

"I don't want to talk about it," Ophelion said, eyes flashing. "Let's just forget about that for now and enjoy this sister to sister trudge through the miserable cold. It could be the last time we get to talk like this."

Meronion sighed. "You won't be leaving the moment we get back."

Ophelion just turned away from her. She pointed up at a large tree. "Look, the trees have clear rocks on them, like the fangs of a cave."

"It's ice," Lomberd said. "Water drips down and freezes into those."

"That's ice?" Ophelion sounded horrified. "It looks like a spear. What if it falls off when you're walking under it?"

"You die." Lomberd was always succinct.

"What kind of place is this?!" Ophelion looked around fearfully at the trees above her to make sure none of the ice spears were over her head. "Why do you people live up here?"

"It is our home."

"You need a better home. No wonder Dardan sailed the world until he found our home. We should bring more of you down to Dardano. Once you saw how warm and comfortable it is, I bet you'd all be happy to join the empire." Ophelion patted him on one of his huge arms. Lomberd just looked down at her hand.

"You wanted to come," Meronion reminded her.

"Yes, and I'm so glad I did. What an experience." Ophelion brushed herself off some more.

"It's character building. Hardship made me the woman I am today."

"You’ve only got one eye and a bad hip!"

Meronion heard a snort that she was sure was a muffled laugh from Khristos, but when she turned around her aide was perfectly composed.

Ophelion sniffed, the cold affecting her nose. "I've got snow down my back, my feet are freezing, I'm tired, and my nose is running. It's already well past noon. Let's go back and get warm – warmish at least."

"Soon. We should be done looking around before nightfall."

"Before nightfall." Ophelion groaned.

"Hopefully." Meronion teased Ophelion as she continued to grumble.

Late the next day, Meronion walked stiffly into her tent. It had been a long day, and she was tired after spending hours preparing the soldiers for the march north. The cold was making her hip stiff, and her empty eye socket ache. She'd forgotten how much the warmth of the capital eased the pain.

Her attendants helped her change into her night robe, and lit the tripods in the tent for light and heat. Once they were done, she sent them all out except for Khristos. The woman started to prepare a herbal mixture for her wounds, and she sank gratefully into the fur-lined bed. She didn't bother to keep her guards in her tent at night, not with Lomberd directly outside and with hundreds of her loyal soldiers in the camp.

The smell of the herbs as Khristos warmed them in water over one of the tripods wasn't pleasant. At least it wasn't the smell of sweat, leather, and bronze. Meronion lay flat on her back for a few moments, before taking off her eye patch and rubbing at the empty socket. Khristos handed her a wad of silk soaked in the mixture, and gently reprimanded her for bothering the socket. Meronion pressed the silk against her wound, wincing slightly as water dripped into the socket. It helped, though. Khristos sat at the end of the bed and stroked her princess' short hair to soothe her. Khristos knew how much the injuries hurt – she'd collected a few herself – and so Meronion didn't mind exposing weakness to her. They'd saved each other's life more than once. She kept it hidden from everyone else, even Ophelion. She asked Khristos about the organization of the troops, but barely listened to the answer. This continued for some time as she tried to get to sleep. She wondered how her girls were doing back at home.

She was about to tell Khristos to forget it and go to her own bed, just a few feet away in the tent, when she heard voices outside. Khristos got up to see what the problem was. Meronion heard her talking to Lomberd and one of her commanders. Meronion could tell it was important, but not an emergency. Had, say, the enemy launched a surprise attack, everybody would be more panicked.

Khristos came back to her. "One of the guard squads has reported that they may have spotted the enemy nearby, but they aren't sure."

These squads had to circle the camp to keep an eye out for roving enemies. They were the first to spot any trouble.

Meronion hauled herself upright. "I'll see for myself."

"It's late, and you need sleep, Your Highness. I'll go to them."

Meronion shook her head. "I won't be able to sleep thinking about this. Besides, if it is an attack, I want to find out as soon as possible. Make sure to alert the guards at my sister's tent. They're not to let her out."

Khristos helped her put her armor on, knowing Meronion wouldn't change her mind.

Eventually they made it out beyond the edge of the camp, where the squad who had reported trouble. It was dark and cold by the time Meronion, Khristos, and Lomberd arrived, and they couldn't carry torches in case the enemy was nearby. Meronion examined the area. The squad were in a thick part of the pine forest, where the trees almost made a wall around them, making it difficult to see any distance or maneuver properly. A fine spot for a Lorgorin raid. The only advantage the location had was that little snow made it through the trees, so the ground was clear of snow and ice. It was still covered in roots and dead branches, though.

The situation irritated Meronion. The squad was too far from the edge of camp. At this distance, with the thickness of the forest, she wasn't sure if the guards at the camp would hear an alarm. Meronion recognized some of the squad as former members of Euphastolon's group, and her mouth tightened in contempt. No wonder they weren't following the proper procedure. She knew her brother's sort: loutish, lazy scoundrels with no discipline. She had broken up his squads and posted the men widely among her own soldiers in order to prevent them from getting up to any mischief. She'd hoped that they might be of some use, but apparently not. She'd dismiss them in the morning. For now, though, she noticed signs of a fight on them: broken spears and wounds.

"There's dead men nearby," Lomberd said.

The squad leader made a sloppy bow to her. She disliked him immediately. He was greasy and rat-faced.

"Your Highness. We encountered a party of Lorgorin. The corpses are just over there." He gestured further into the woods.

"How many?" She asked.

"Hard to tell in the dark. A dozen, maybe."

There were about two dozen soldiers left in the squad, which meant they had only lost four or five of their number taking down a dozen Lorgorin. Not a bad showing. Perhaps she wouldn’t dismiss them.

She orderd them to take her to the site. The man seemed surprised.

Khristos stepped up to her hastily. "Highness, since we've confirmed the enemy is here, is it not time to return and alert the camp?"

"I just want to see what we're dealing with, whether it's the Moro tribe or not. Then we'll go back." She'd been chasing those bastards around for years now, but they always slipped out of her grasp like eels.

The remains of the raiding party were only a few strides away, as it turned out. Meronion should have realized right away, but the dark and cold made it hard to pick up on the sights and smells of battle. She knelt to turn one of the corpses over.

"Hmm." It was a Moro warrior right enough. Tattoos on his face and an iron hammer at his side. This was Dardan land, yet here they were. Some lessons needed to-

A sudden commotion made her stop and turn around, and she saw Lomberd struggling to fight with a spear in his side, pierced through his leather armor. He must have whipped around and caught a spear meant for his back. A member of the squad was holding the spear.

"Damn it, get the big bastard down, quick! He's dangerous." The leader she'd just been talking to shouted. A good half dozen of the men were in a circle around Lomberd, stabbing at him with their spears and keeping their distance. Lomberd was a superb fighter – but like most Lorgorin, he was used to close combat.

Meronion didn't waste time standing there being shocked or shouting pointless questions. It was an ambush, treason. All there was to do was fight her way out. Questions could wait, survival came first.

A couple of the men had already grabbed Khristos' spear at the shaft. She immediately began to cry for help from the camp while at the same time unsheathing her bronze sword to take them on up close. Meronion didn't wait for them to close in on her, hurling her spear at the nearest soldier to her, a thickset toad of a man.

He screamed and fell backwards, the spear lodged in his chest. For once Meronion was glad some of her soldiers had shoddy armor. She had no time to retrieve her spear, so she charged and used her shield to shove another soldier into the one behind him, tangling them up. She swept her short sword out and slashed him across the face, cutting through the nose guard of his bronze helmet and ruining his eyes, before stabbing the second soldier in the neck. She didn't waste time finishing either of the soldiers off – they were out of the fight.

The picture was clear though. Three against two dozen were not good odds. Lomberd was occupying many of them with his tremendous strength and reach, but the spear in his side was having an effect. He was too slow now to evade all their blows, and he was slowly being worn down by their quick spear thrusts. He managed to grab one of the spears after it just missed him, and pulled the wielder off his feet. Once within his reach, the soldier was quickly dispatched, but Lomberd took another spear in the back. He was losing.

Meronion dodged a spear thrust at her, grabbed it by the shaft and pulled herself forward with it, using the momentum to stab the soldier in the leg. She heard Khristos fighting behind her. Meronion began to fight another soldier, although her sword was already bent from the previous soldier's greaves and she had no time to straighten it out.

Khristos yelled for help again, but in this forest, nobody would hear them. Khristos had already killed two soldiers herself, but blood was gushing from a deep cut in her right thigh. It looked fatal. Lomberd now had five corpses surrounding him but he was bleeding from many wounds too, and struggling against the soldiers who still surrounded him. They, for their part, were clearly terrified of the man. It wasn't going as they had imagined either.

"Highness," Khristos panted, "we're dead. Leave us or you'll die too." She immediately had to turn around to catch another sword swing.

Meronion hesitated for a moment, two, as another couple of soldiers ran towards her. Then she did the hardest thing she'd ever done: she turned and ran into the forest. She abandoned her best friend and closest comrade to certain death. But Khristos was right, she couldn't save them. If she died, she wouldn't even be able to avenge them. Meronion ran, knowing she'd never see her friends again.

"Fuck!" She heard the captain scream. "Get her! Royal protection or not, if that bitch gets away, we're all dead."

One of her siblings had ordered this. Euphastolon? Cordelian?

Some of the soldiers raced after her. They couldn't see her well in the dark, and Meronion slipped between the trees, using them to her advantage, swinging her shield onto her back to get it out of her way. But she couldn't see well in the dark either, her hip was screaming in agony, and she stumbled on roots and branches.

She'd barely made it more than a couple of ship's lengths when something slammed into her from behind and made her lose her balance. A soldier had tried to stab her in the back, but her shield had turned his spear aside, causing him to stumble forward as well. As she fell, she launched herself around and cut off the man's hand with one sweep of her sword. He screamed and collapsed to his knees, blood splattering onto his face. But one behind him thrust his spear at her from out of her sword's reach, which caught her in the shoulder of her sword arm as she hit the ground. His spear managed to cave her armor in enough to crush her shoulder, although the spear snapped, and the man lost his balance and fell over as well.

Another soldier leapt on top of her and stabbed at her with his knife, which she caught with her bronze bracer. She'd been trying to parry with her sword, but her shoulder was a mess and she couldn't move her arm properly. That still left her one good arm. This close, even swords were no good, so she dropped her sword and drew her dagger with her other arm. She stabbed her attacker again and again, anywhere she could reach. He gurgled and collapsed onto her, dead weight.

Blood and the fight were making her hot and tired now. Another soldier stabbed her in the leg with his spear, as the previous soldier's body was covering most of the rest of her. She heard the pounding of more feet coming over, and someone pulled the dying soldier off her. She lashed out but her arm was kicked aside, and the wind was knocked out of her. She looked down and saw a heavy axe buried in her chest, right through the bronze breastplate. The squad leader looked down at her, angry and out of breath. Ah, so this was it then. With one last burst of strength she drove her knife into his ankle, twisting as she did, his bone crunching and splintering. He collapsed, screaming. He may have killed her, but at least he'd never walk on that leg again. Something to remember her by.

The other soldiers swore and jumped back. Their leader rolled around on the ground screaming and swearing, cradling his leg as an increasingly large pool of blood surrounded him. He stopped when one of his men bent down and quickly cut his throat with an ugly knife.

"Sorry boss, but Lorgorin don't leave wounded alive, remember? Gotta make it look convincing."

That man yelled back to the first group, who replied that they had finally killed Lomberd and Khristos. Apparently only a small handful of them survived, which the woozy Meronion smiled at. She was having trouble thinking straight now and found she couldn't talk when she attempted to ask who had ordered this. Blood foamed up through her lips.

The soldier who'd killed the captain dropped to one knee beside her. "You're one fine princess. Much better than that other one."

She drowsily looked up at him, as her own breath whistled and rattled.

"I'm sure the old gods have a place in the warrior's hall for you," he said, patting her good shoulder. "Just rest now. You fought well."

Yes, she wanted to rest, her eyelids drooping. She wondered who wanted her dead. Euphastolon, out of revenge? Would Cordelian go so far? Well, it didn't matter now, it was someone else's problem. Ophelion was safe in her tent, her daughters safe at home. She'd done her duty, and falling in battle, even to treacherous scum, was better than dying like her father had done. She felt no shame over her actions. She had fulfilled her duty to the empire as best she could.

Her last thought was regret at leaving her daughters. She'd wanted to see what kind of women they would become.