Though pale after her frightening ordeal, and far more subdued than usual, she was composed and in control. Marcus did not doubt her courage, no matter what he thought of her character. He gave a reluctant nod.

Evelina assisted the Queen to a chair by the fire and knelt down beside her, chafing the woman’s hands, which were cold as what remained of the human hands of the corpse.

“Mistress Evelina,” said Marcus.

“Yes, Your Highness?” Evelina looked up at him, her blue eyes wide. She tried a tentative smile.

“Don’t bring my mother any wine,” he said harshly.

Evelina’s cheeks stained red. The smile shriveled. She lowered her eyes. “No, Your Highness,” she mumbled, her response barely audible.

“Keep an eye on that creature,” said Marcus to one of the knights as he and his father left the great hall. “Don’t let her out of your sight. And don’t let her leave the palace.”

Gunderson stood atop the wall staring out eastward through a spyglass. Others were watching that direction, as well, eyes squinting, trying to see.

“What is it?” the king demanded.

“As strange a sight as I’ve witnessed in all my years, Sire,” said Gunderson and he handed over the glass. “What do you make of that?”

“You know I can’t see through that damn thing,” Edward said, exasperated. “Marcus, you look.”

Marcus lifted the glass to his eye and brought the amazing sight into focus.

Women on horseback raced along the road that led from the north, riding for the castle gates. The women were clad in leather armor of ornate and archaic design. They wore steel helms and carried shields with the insignia of an Eye upon them. Their swords bumped their legs as they rode. They had bows strung over their shoulders and quivers of arrows tied to their saddles.

Flanked by the warrior women, who rode protectively on either side, were twelve horse-drawn chariots. Each chariot was driven by a female warrior, and riding in each were women clad in white robes that streamed out behind them. The lead chariot was accompanied by a young man, who was not riding, but was running alongside, loping easily over the ground, keeping pace with the horses.

Marcus lowered the glass and rubbed his eyes, which were starting to tear.

“Well?” his father demanded impatiently.

“The warrior women of Seth,” Marcus said.

“Do we fire?” Gunderson asked.

“No!” said Edward, and “No!” Marcus shouted at the same time.

“Sire, I don’t like this—” Gunderson began.

“Neither do they!” Marcus cried, pointing.

The dragon army had spotted the riders and the chariots. A group of dragon warriors detached from the main body that was marching on the palace and shifted direction, racing at a run to cut off the women of Seth before they could reach the palace.