Every few minutes, Atticus barked an order, and four men would cycle, two holding torches, the others swinging their blades. It was as efficient as they could be, and both Cade and Scott had taken their fair share of turns, their sword blades dulled from the constant grind of bark, liana, and fiber.

“Lights ahead,” came a call from the front.

Cade didn’t need the Codex to know what the man had said. It was ahead of them, filtering through the trees. A glow.

For a moment, Cade thought it was the moon, hanging low in the sky. But as he stared, craning his neck over the shorter Romans, he knew. It had to be Leifsbudir. And it was occupied.

Atticus shouldered his way to the front, and Cade followed, unable to resist an involuntary shudder as the undergrowth rustled at the movement.

The ex-commander gripped one of the torches, pushing his way forward. There were only a few feet to go before the forest opened into a clearing of sorts, and following him Cade could soon make out a wooden palisade, one at least ten feet tall and made of solid wood. Whatever light it gave off was coming from the inside, lighting the low-hanging branches of the trees above. But what scared him most were the gates.

He had seen gates just like it before. All those months ago, when he had been captured by the slavers.

“We need to leave,” Cade hissed. “Now.”

Atticus laughed. “These are humans,” he said. “Allies! Why, they could help us. What a success it would be to bring more men to bolster our army.”

Cade hushed him, his heart pounding. Behind him, the Romans crowded forward, eager to be out of the undergrowth.

“These are slavers,” Cade hissed. “You ever heard of them? Because I’ve been taken captive by them twice.”

Atticus spat. “We’ve heard the rumors. But who is to say it is them?”

Cade stared at the gates, struggling to convey what he knew to be true in as few words as possible.

“The slavers have outposts like this across the jungles. Places to sleep while they hunt for us, and other remnants, out in the jungles. They must have repurposed Leifsbudir.”

Atticus crouched in the dirt, eyeing the gates, which now Cade saw must have been barred from the inside.

“Then we take it from them,” he hissed, drawing his gladius. “We take them by surprise.”

Cade shook his head. “There’s nothing to gain. And who knows how many of them are there?”

“You would have us pass the night out here?” Atticus growled, stabbing with his blade into the still-rustling undergrowth.

Cade grimaced at the thought. “We have no other choice.”

Atticus snorted derisively. “I will scout their position,” he said, already moving.

Cade snatched at his skirts, but the man tugged free, crab-walking up the slight slope of underbrush to the gates of the settlement.

Behind, the crackling of branches grew louder. No longer the sly movements of beasts following them in the darkness. This was louder, if coming from farther away.