“We believe Serak will seek to assassinate you,” Senia was saying.
“Does this have to do with the other killings?”
“Other killings?” Willow asked.
“Someone has been killing officers and warriors of renown,” he said. “The killer has been described as the specter of death himself.”
Senia grimaced. “That would be Gendor, Serak’s assassin.”
“Why would he come for me?” Lachonus asked. “I’m nobody.”
“You have human and dwarven blood,” she said. “Do you have elven blood as well?”
Lachonus looked confused at the turn in conversation. “What does that have to do with the assassin?”
“It’s important,” Senia said.
Lachonus regarded the three of them and then shrugged. “I don’t know. My family is convoluted. My mother would know.”
“Then we need you to take us to her,” he said.
“She’s right here,” he replied, and pointed to the supply wagons. “She is leftenant over infantry.”
“We must speak to her immediately,” Senia said.
Lachonus regarded them for a moment and then called an order over his shoulder. “Corporal Wilten, summon Leftenant Rilia.”
“As you order!” came the reply.
The speaker detached himself from the line of cavalry and then rode south to reach a set of wagons. He spoke with someone there, and a moment later a woman climbed onto a horse tied to the side of the wagon.
Dressed in the ornate armor of a leftenant, second only to a general, the woman conveyed an imposing air. Her blond hair was tied back, her helm hanging from her saddle. Her features were haughty and rigid, a woman of strength and dominating will. Light took an immediate dislike.
She rode to Lachonus and dismounted, her eyes sweeping the group. She noted Willow with a touch of suspicion, her eyes passing over Senia, whom she recognized. Light thought he saw a trace of ambition in the woman’s features before she looked at him.
“There is berry on your face.”
Her disapproval made Light flush and wipe at his cheek. “Sorry.”
“What’s this about?” Rilia demanded.
“I’m here on an urgent request,” Senia said. “I need to know if Lachonus is descended of the elves, humans, and dwarves.”
“Why?”
“I cannot say.”
“Then we cannot help you.”
She folded her arms. Light leaned over to whisper to Willow, but she jerked her head, and he remained silent. He fidgeted, his eyes flicking between the standoff and Willow, annoyed by the woman’s stance.
His eyes flicked to the saddlebags again, and then drifted upward, to the marching army. The hundreds of soldiers tried to pretend they were not watching, but many eyes glanced in their direction.
“I am the oracle,” Senia said, her tone turning hard. “What I have foreseen is my duty.”
“And my soldiers are my duty,” she said. “As is my son. Why do you need him?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Senia said.
“I’m second rank to a general,” Rilia growled. “You may be the oracle, but that does not mean you are more intelligent than a soldier trained for war.”
Is everything alright? Isray’s voice was distant.
“We’re fine!” Light called, and then flushed again when Rilia stared at him like he’d gone mad.
“He does that,” Lachonus supplied.
“He lacks discipline,” she said. “An attribute my son possesses, and will one day help him achieve the highest rank in Talinor.”
“Leftenant Rilia,” Senia said. “The war you are headed for will—”
“—Bring my family more glory than anything you can offer,” she snapped. “Captain, back to your post.”
“You can’t be serious,” Lachonus said. “I’ve fought beside Light, and the oracle has a rank that rivals the kings.”
“Not my king,” Rilia rounded on him. “I didn’t train you for decades just so you can miss the most important battle of your career. This war with Serak and his Order of Ancients will reveal many distinguished soldiers, and I’m not allowing you to depart on a mysterious assignment with the oracle—one with deeds that will likely never be known.”
“Even if he is the key to destroying Serak?” Willow asked.
