Pied heard the talk, even though the words were whispered and the looks cast his way furtive. Drum hadn’t exaggerated—everyone was depending on him. He might have been an ex-Captain of the Home Guard twenty-four hours earlier, but he was back in harness, like it or not. He could choose to set the record straight, but what good would that do? The Elven army needed confidence and determination; he knew better than most how to provide that, and he was in a position to do so. To forgo that responsibility would be to commit a violation of trust worse than anything Kellen Elessedil had ever imagined.

So he had called together his subcommanders and Lieutenants and devised a plan that would give them a chance to stall the Federation advance. In these hills, the Elves were a less visible target than on the flats or in the skies. Here, they could be more elusive as the terrain better suited their style of fighting. The Federation army was advancing on them with the intention of crushing any final resistance they might offer, then flanking and surrounding their Free-born allies. Putting a stop to their effort might very well determine the outcome of the entire war.

With a plan in place and the army regrouped, Drum had persuaded Pied to go back to sleep. He was still battered from his tumble out of the sky, still exhausted enough that he needed to rest. Nothing he could do now was more important than what he would do when the Federation found them.

And now, he thought, opening his eyes once more to stare up into the still-darkened sky, it has.

He looked at Drumundoon. “Any sign of their airships?” He pushed himself up on one elbow with a grunt. The resulting aches and pains gave evidence of the time and distance he must travel still before he healed. “What about that big ship that was carrying their weapon?”

“No airships in sight at all,” his aide responded, reaching down to pull him all the way up and handing him the chain-mail vest he always wore in battle.

Pied stared in disbelief. “How in the world did you find this?”

“I never let go of it, Captain,” the other man advised, giving him a wry smile. “I knew you’dbe needing it when you came back.”

That he believed Pied would come back spoke volumes about his faith in his commander. Pied pulled on the vest, buckled on the leather greaves and arm guards that Drum had also somehow salvaged, strapped on a short sword and long knife, and slung his bow and arrows across his back.

He shook his head. “You never cease to amaze me, Drum.” He stretched, adjusted the armor and weapons, and nodded. “All right. Lead the way.”