Black Moon Draw(25)

“Is this your whole army?” I ask.

“A small scouting force. The rest guard my kingdom and the Knights I have defeated.”

Small? Wow.

Yells go down the rows as he rides in front of one formation. Rather than addressing or riding the length of the men, he points his horse towards a gap in the trees and begins trotting once more.

I grimace and clutch the horse’s mane. Before we reach the opening in the trees, we’re flanked by several dozen of his men. Twisting to see behind us, I watch the formations converging and moving with us, on the heels of the men escorting us.

I’ll admit: I know nothing of war. They don’t have planes to bomb us that I can tell, and I doubt they use chemical weapons or anything else nasty. The Shadow Knight is focused but not tense, so I’m assuming we aren’t in danger yet.

“Does Green Dawn Cave have more warriors?” I ask.

“Many more,” he responds somewhat proudly.

“And that’s not a problem?”

“My army is greater in skill.”

“So they don’t get scared?”

He looks at me, the boar head unnerving me.

“Fear is not tolerated,” he replies.

I clamp my mouth closed. I’m starting to panic long before the forest turns to rolling hills and we walk out onto a savannah.

He’s right about one thing: his enemy has a lot more men. They spread out too far for me to count. They also appear better equipped, with metal armor instead of leather, and horses that wear shields at their chests and leather protection around each leg.

He halts, and so does everyone behind us, except for one man who races ahead towards the enemy bearing a white flag.

There’s no way his small army, with subpar armor and weapons that don’t look anywhere near as new and clean as his enemy’s, can win. How did he defeat seven kingdoms thus far?

Omigod. I must’ve said the words aloud because the Shadow Knight is looking at me.

“What say you, witch?” he asks.

There’s nothing written on my hand. “I really think I’d rather be a tree-witch.”

He nudges his horse next to mine until our legs brush. Without a word, he wraps an arm around my waist and hauls me onto his horse.

“Would you stop?” I gasp, wriggling.

Ignoring me, he maneuvers me in front of him on the horse, jostling and shifting me until he’s comfortable. His arm loosens but stays around me, reins in hand, his chin stirring the hair at the top of my head. One of his large hands rests on my leg, wider from pinky to thumb than my chunky thigh.

My discomfort is only partly because of the hard body at my back. My dress is even more bunched and my ass hurts worse than before from trotting.

Unable to move, I stop wriggling and sigh. He tucks me into his body. My shoulders fit perfectly between his, giving him space to reach for the weapons at his back and hips without me getting in the way. His thick thighs are pressed against mine, the smooth shapes of his muscles moving against my back.

“My men are better disciplined. They also have nothing to lose,” he says quietly.

“Except our heads,” says the man who approaches from the side. He’s wearing the head of a wolf with silver eyes.

“Aye, but they grow back.”

The two laugh at a joke that’s over my head.

“My master-at-arms and second in command,” the Shadow Knight says, motioning to the man. “He is the only man I will ever send orders through for you, witch.”

“Oh, great,” I murmur.

Wolfie eyes me.

The army of animal-headed warriors has one advantage: intimidation. I’m not sure what I’d do if I saw them coming towards me on the battlefield.

I’m starting to overheat once more, even though it’s a temperate day. I want to think it’s the horse, but a glance at the roped forearm in front of me makes me admit otherwise.

“Position the men,” the Shadow Knight says to Wolfie.

“Aye.” Wolfie kicks his horse forward, and I notice for the first time he’s not using a saddle.

“Since this is your first battle, I will advise you of this: do not get captured and do not get in my way, witch,” the Shadow Knight tells me.

Great advice. I say nothing.

“No trees,” he adds more quietly. “You may be a new battle-witch, but you are trying my patience.”

I close my eyes and begin my little chant. This isn’t real. I’ll be home soon.

“What say you, witch?”

My eyes snap open. I might’ve said something aloud before without realizing it, but I know I didn’t this time.

“Nothing,” I reply, uneasy with the idea he might be able to read my mind. It’s ridiculous, not remotely possible. “I have a name, you know.”

“Name?”

I roll my eyes. “You know, what friends and family call me instead of witch.”

“You would share this with me so soon?”

What weird rule of LF’s did I miss now? “Um, sure. Don’t you have a name?”

“’Tis not spoken.”

“Do people flee in fear?” I ask sarcastically.

“You who do not know our ways should not mock them.”

“I’m not mocking your world. It’s so . . . strange to me. There is nothing like this or you where I’m from.”