“I’M worried about Danos,” Beka told Nyal as they sat together on a knoll overlooking the latest battlefield. Drysians, camp followers, and carrion crows were moving among the fallen. In the distance, beyond the queen’s tent, funeral pyres were being built. The sound of axes echoed through the forest behind them.

Hardly an hour earlier they’d been fighting one of the bloodiest battles in months against half a regiment of the Plenimarans’ best infantry. Nyal and another scout had brought in news of the enemy just before dawn, and apparently the enemy’s scouts had done the same, for they met a prepared force almost immediately after that and ended up fighting with empty bellies for most of the day before Klia had broken the back of the Plenimaran line. After that it was a rout, but a hard-won victory all the same.

And the Plenimarans were regrouping.

“What about Danos?” asked Nyal. “I heard from the healer that his wounds wouldn’t kill him.”

“It’s not that. It’s how he got them,” Beka replied. “Have you seen how he’s thrown himself in harm’s way since the night Klia questioned him?”

“He’s always been a fierce leader.”

“It’s more than that. He took crazy risks today, and it’s not the first time since word of his father’s arrest came. I saw him outride his squadron today, and head straight into a line of enemy pike men.”

“Ah.” Nyal plucked a strand of wind-sere grass and twirled it between long fingers. “You think he’s trying to prove his honor through a valiant death?”

“Something like that.”

“Has the commander noticed?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to keep an eye on him.”

“I think you should speak with him, before it’s too late.”

In the past Danos had never been hard to find in camp; he was always at one fire or another with his people, laughing and praising. Tonight, however, Beka had to ask the way to his tent.

He was outside, currying his horse by the light of a lantern. Perhaps that had been Caem’s job. Beka had never taken on a servant, but Danos was a noble, and used to such things. All the same, she doubted that accounted for his morose expression. He didn’t cheer up at the sight of her stepping into the light.

“I suppose you’ve come to tell me to be more careful, too,” he said, facing her across the horse’s back. “Anri was just here.”

“Did it do any good?” Beka smoothed a hand down the bay’s dusty withers. “We can’t afford to lose you, you know. Killing yourself is no different than desertion.”

Danos let out a humorless laugh as he brushed harder at his horse’s side, raising a small cloud of dirt and horsehair. “You certainly don’t honey your words.”