Amber reached the guard post. She saw the guard in front of her breathe in as he caught the scent of lavender and rose from the fragrance Amber had placed at her neck and wrists. The other guard looked her slowly up and then down, his gaze finally setting on her chest.

"Hello, beauty," the first guard said. "Where did you turn up from? How come we 'aven't noticed you before?"

"I'm new," Amber said.

The second guard came forward, his mouth open and eyes still fixated on Amber's body. He leered, his hand running over the soft material on Amber's waist. "Good news for us," the guard said.

Amber smiled up at him, letting his hand run over the material and up, feeling the outside of her hip, moving further still to the underside of her breast. She finally stepped back and pushed his hand away. "I'm not here for you two, I'm afraid. I'm here for someone else."

"Who?" asked the first guard.

"High Lord Moragon," Amber said. "His command tent is out there, isn't it?" She smiled up at the guard sweetly.

Both men stood back and exchanged worried glances. The leering guard's expression was fearful.

"Could you let me through?" Amber asked.

The guards lived in a separate compound to the main prison camp, Moragon with them. Amber prayed to the Lord of the Sky. If they let her out unescorted she could potentially escape, and she wouldn't have to do what she came here to do.

Amber remembered Hugo's words: he'd said she would be next. She owed it to her unborn child to stay alive.

The first guard whistled, and a uniformed man came over. "Take her to High Lord Moragon's tent."

Amber's escort quickly looked her over, but said nothing about Amber's obvious purpose. "Come with me," he said.

Amber's heart raced as her escort led her away from the fenced prison and between two pine trees. The air was sweeter, out here in the open, away from the stench of the prisoners, and the two dozen or so tents of the guards' compound were laid out in neat rows, interspersed with the occasional tree.

Some guards sat about, finishing their evening meal, drinking hot drinks from steaming metal mugs. Amber saw them nudge one another and felt their eyes on her body as she walked past. Good — the more who saw her the better.

Six guards stood in a circle around Moragon's command tent. A tall flagpole was planted to the left of the tent, the raj hada of Tingara double-circled to indicate the High Lord was in residence.

Amber's escort promptly halted outside the tent. "For the High Lord," he said.