“My lord!” The captain hurried up. “A band of some dozen horsemen has been sighted, riding hard from the north.”
Lavastine jumped up and strode to the north corner of the hill. Alain thrust the cup into the hand of a servant and hurried after him. He scrambled up onto the rough platform and from there could clearly see the earthworks laid out below, ringing the hill, and—to the north—a dozen or more riders galloping toward their position. As this group enveloped a pair of waiting outriders, one rider slowed to pass on their news. At once the scouts turned and followed the rest toward the hill.
“They ride with some urgency,” observed Lavastine calmly. He beckoned to a servant. “My arms. And another glass of wine.” Like Alain, he already wore sword and mail.
“That’s Liath!” Alain saw scarlet flash in her Eagle’s cloak.
Lavastine leaned down toward his captain. “Bring the Eagle to me as soon as she enters camp. Let the other captains assemble.” When he turned back to Alain, he regarded the young man with a seriousness that made Alain flush with more than wine—with a dreadful anticipation, a fluttering in his stomach. “No matter what is said, or left unsaid, you must trust me, Alain. Your part is to defend this hill.” His gaze shifted to encompass the expanse of fields stretching eastward toward the river and Gent, which lay silent and peaceful under the new sun. “How quiet it is this morning,” he added softly.
Voices swelled below, a hubbub of excited speech and shouting. The captain rode up the hill, Liath right behind him. Her horse was foundering and, as soon as she dismounted, a servant led it away.
“My lord count!”
He lifted a hand for silence and counted his captains: Lord Geoffrey, Lord Wichman, Lady Amalia, Lord Dedi of Autun. The sergeants had already assembled. “Eagle, give us your report.”
Out it spilled so quickly that Alain could scarcely make sense of it: an illusion that appeared as no illusion? the Eika attacking now? With each phrase she glanced east, her expression so transparent that Alain thought he could read each least slight grimace or widening of eyes. She was not as afraid of what she claimed to see as of how her news would be received by her listeners.
They all looked. They could not help it, her gaze drew their own so strongly toward the plain lying bright and empty between their position and the distant city of Gent.