Evrin's eyes stayed shut, and then a legionnaire came forward. He glared at Killian, but rather than the sharp words Killian expected, the legionnaire smashed the hilt of his sword into Killian's cheek.

Killian went down, crying out with pain, but rose back up and again stood. The legionnaire's eyes were still on him. Suppressing his anger, Killian watched as the soldiers drew away.

All thoughts of finding the Primate and his book were forgotten. He had found Evrin!

Killian waited until the last cart had passed, and the soldier watching him had long gone, then he started to follow.

There was no way Evrin Evenstar was getting away from him this time.

29

29

MIRO held his breath, barely able to watch as the warrior drew on his bow, aimed, and released.

The arrow went wide, missing the straw man altogether and sinking into a nearby tree with a thunk.

"I told you this wouldn't work," High Lord Rorelan said, shaking his head. "I want those bladesingers back."

"It will work," Miro said.

Prayan, the wizened Dunfolk hunter who was making the Alturans' bows, jumped up to smack the Alturan warrior on the back of the head. "No, no, no!" Prayan cried. "Your stance is all wrong. You need to hold your breath before you shoot, and then release it after. It's affecting your aim. Where do I start?"

Aglaran, Prayan's son, tilted his head as if hearing something. In one swift motion he fitted an arrow to the string of his bow, drew it to his ear, and released. Deep in the forest, Miro heard something fall to the ground.

"Woodhen," Aglaran said. "Dinner."

"Were you watching, stupid Alturan?" Prayan harassed the weary soldier. "Any child could hit the centre of that target. A trained hunter like my son here can shoot a bird on the wing."

Prayan poked the soldier to emphasise his point, before moving to the next, his haranguing voice coming in fits and starts as he moved down the line.

"This is hopeless," Rorelan said.

"I know it seems that way, but the men can learn, High Lord," Miro said. "You were at the Sutanesta, you saw what happened. Used in a group these weapons are deadly."

"If the men don't have the training…"

"They will," Miro said with determination.

"Lord Marshal, you have, what, three hundred of these so-called archers? That's three hundred fewer men facing the legion. Give them swords."

"How do swords beat prismatic orbs? The enemy has essence again. We won't last!"

"Give me the two bladesingers back, the ones who fight with the Dunfolk in the north."

"No. This isn't something a couple of bladesingers can solve. The enemy's strength is increasing while we grow weaker and weaker. I'm the Lord Marshal."

"And I'm your High Lord!"

Miro lifted his chin. "I am telling you, Rorelan. This will work."

High Lord Rorelan turned and walked away, his stamping strides showing his fury.