When he'd finally seen her as a woman, it was too late, and then it wasn't just her marriage to Igor Samson that drove them apart, it was the war, and finally she was taken from him, perhaps a prisoner somewhere, but most likely dead.

Amber.

"Miro, are you all right?" Marshal Beorn asked.

Miro realised he held his fists clenched at his sides. He forced himself to relax. "Yes, I'm fine," he said. "Pass the word. We advance."

36

36

"WOMAN, you're staying here," Rogan said, putting all of the force that could command an army behind his voice.

"May the Lord of the Earth scratch me if I am," Amelia said, her brown eyes blazing.

"The fight is going to be dangerous, and if I'm worried about you, I'll be distracted," Rogan said, changing tactic.

"Then I'll have to stay right by your side, won't I?"

"You'll stay put here with Tapel," Rogan said. "I command it."

"You command it, do you? Listen to me, Rogan Jarvish, you don't command me. I'll do nothing of the sort."

"Please, Amelia," Rogan said. "The coming fight will be no place for a woman. I intend to be at the heart of it."

"No," Amelia said. "That armoursilk doesn't fit you anymore."

"What do you mean? Of course it does!"

"No, it doesn't," Amelia's voice softened. "You aren't a young man, Rogan. Yes, the armoursilk fits, but it is no longer right for you. You were badly wounded in that battle — you're a warrior, and you know it as well as I do. Bladesingers always go where the battle is thickest, isn't that what they say? Well, not you. Without you, the spirit will go out of your men. They need you, Rogan."

Rogan spluttered for a moment. "Don't change the subject, Amelia. We're talking about you, here, not me."

"We're talking about us," Amelia whispered.

Rogan suddenly couldn't speak. He was as speechless as he had been while recovering from his wounds. He simply gaped, staring at Amelia, looking into her eyes. Lord of the Sky, she was a beautiful woman. He stood silent and mesmerised by her. He realised he loved her smile, and her golden hair, the colour of wheat. What was she doing here, arguing with him?

"I'm not staying home either," Tapel said, his piping voice rising up over the silence.

Rogan and Amelia both rounded on the boy. "Yes, you are," Rogan and Amelia said in unison.

"You can't make me," Tapel said.

Rogan loomed over the boy, who suddenly cowered under him. He spoke slowly, in the voice that had handled countless boys a lot tougher than this one. "Yes," Rogan said. "I can."

"Will you come for me after?" Tapel said in a small voice.

"Boy," Rogan said, "I'll come for you after. I'll come for you after the battle, and I'll come for you the next day. Now, get gone with you." He cuffed the air, and Tapel ran away.