Raisa ricocheted between wishing she had him there with her, to hoping he was somewhere out of danger. Han Alister had a way of finding trouble, and these days there was plenty of trouble to be found.

Raisa didn’t know where her father and grandmother were, either. They were likely in the upland camps, keeping a close eye on Gray Lady, waiting for some decision about Han. Did they know what was happening down in the Vale?

Did it matter? The clans were not adept at flatland warfare—at coming up against an army in formation. But they could make it impossible for the mercenaries and their allies to get anything into or out of the Vale.

Unfortunately, Raisa and her allies would run out of resources before the mutinous army did.

And so they met, the queen and the traitor, under a little canopy outside of the Fellsmarch guardhouse at the end of the drawbridge. Raisa wore the magicked armor made for her by Fire Dancer. Amon had insisted, and, anyway, it presented the image of a queen at war.

Raisa was backed by General Dunedain, Captain Byrne, four bluejackets, and Cat Tyburn. Klemath headed a motley of striper mercenaries, along with a long-nosed, arrogant-looking Malthusian priest. The priest was clad all in black, save the rising sun pendant at his neck and the golden keys about his waist.

When Cat spotted the priest, her eyes narrowed. She looked from the cleric to Klemath and back again, looking puzzled. And alarmed.

She recognizes him, Raisa thought. Why would Klemath come with a priest, and a flatland priest, at that? She spotted Keith Klemath in the back of the pack (or was it Kip?), and for a split second wondered if the man was there to perform a marriage. But the lytling Klemath looked awfully glum for it to be his wedding day.

“Klemath,” Raisa said, wrenching her gaze back to her former general. “I certainly cannot bid you welcome, but I am interested in hearing an explanation of this…ill-considered adventure.”

“Your Majesty. I am not here to explain. I am here to discuss terms of surrender,” Klemath said.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Raisa said. “I cannot promise clemency, but I will promise you justice.” To her right, she saw Cat wink at the general and draw her finger across her throat.

Klemath looked flustered. Then angry. “I am here to discuss terms of your surrender, Your Majesty, not mine.” He slapped his gloves across his palm for emphasis.

“What makes you think I intend to surrender?” Raisa said, cocking her head.

“You are hopelessly outnumbered,” Klemath said, as if tutoring a small child. “You have—what—a few dozen guards? I have thousands of soldiers surrounding the castle close.”