Horde (Razorland #3)(116)

“How many are left of Company D?”

“I’ve been going through Morrow’s journal while I tend him. Less than seventy.”

I bowed my head for a few seconds. “I need all their names.”

“I’ll put Sands on it.” Soon after, Tegan left.

Only one of Stalker’s original scouts had survived the battle. Since he’d been with us from the beginning, Sands would likely know the names of the dead and where they’d come from. Time for me to keep my promise. A little food and sleep had worked wonders, especially since I knew I could cross the river, and there was nothing much to fear anymore.

The next day, Fade protested when I kissed his forehead and said, “I’ll see you soon.”

He tried to follow me, but he wasn’t strong enough. A blue streak of cursing ensued, quickly staunched when Thimble stuck her head in the room wearing a ferocious scowl. “If my son picks up that language from you, Fade, there will be a reckoning.”

“Let me come with you.” Fade’s desperate voice followed me, and I turned.

“You need to heal … and I need to get this done before the first snow. Don’t worry. This is the last time we’ll be apart. That’s my promise to you.”

He didn’t like it, but he settled against his pillows. I ran back and kissed him properly, just to give him some motivation, then I hurried out of the cottage, knowing I couldn’t linger or my resolve would falter. I didn’t look forward to this task, but my conscience would plague me if I didn’t give these families the news about their loved ones. They deserved to know what happened, why their sons and daughters were never coming home.

After a little searching, I found Rex in the pub with Spence. Morgan had taken my request seriously, and before he’d left, he assigned my brother to look after Spence because he wasn’t even half sane after Tully’s death, and he still sought ways to do himself harm. I hoped his grief would ease in time.

“When Fade’s better,” I said to them both, “I need you to take him to Soldier’s Pond. Wagon is fine. I’ll come as soon as I finish one last thing.”

“Carrying word.” Spence’s blue eyes were flat and sad.

I agreed that was so. “Will you?”

“We’ll take care of him,” Rex promised.

Thimble met me at the cottage door with my pack; she was every bit as resourceful as I remembered from our days down below. She must’ve figured I’d be heading out as soon as possible, better to get the grim journey out of the way. I hugged her tight, but I didn’t say good-bye. Now that I knew they were here, I’d be back. I just had some traveling to do first.

To my surprise, Gavin met me at the docks. He still had the Company D banner, but he’d taken it off the pole, and he wore it around his shoulders like a cape. I didn’t have the heart to tell him he looked ridiculous; he seemed so proud of the dirty, disreputable thing. Maybe Momma Oaks could sew him a proper cloak when we got to Soldier’s Pond, possibly with our emblem, if it would make him happy.

“I’m going with you,” he told me.

I didn’t try to talk him out of it. “You know it’ll be a long, sad trip.”

He shrugged. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

The survivors of the company had split up while I tended Fade, leaving Rosemere in twos and threes, to return to their homes. Part of me wished I could’ve given them something worthy of their courage, but there were only words, and I had never been skilled with those. So it was best they went before I could ruin whatever good thoughts of me they might carry away.

A boatman took us across with an oddly deferential air, and when I stood to clamber out of the boat, he kissed the back of my hand. I pulled away, eyeing him in abject confusion.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because you’re the Huntress,” he said. “And you won the War of the River. You made the territories safe again.”

I hadn’t done so without a lot of blood and pain, many sacrifices from people smarter, braver, and better than me. But I was so flummoxed by his words that I let Gavin drag me out over the side, into the water, and all the way to shore. I cast a look back, but the man was already trimming his sail and turning the little boat back toward the Evergreen Isle.

When Gavin and I returned to the battlefield, it had become a graveyard. Row after row of wooden markers stood neatly commemorating where brave men and women died. I stood for a few seconds, my throat too tight to breathe. The brat’s fingers stole into mine, and I squeezed them. It seemed so wrong that we were here when Stalker wasn’t, when Tully and Thornton were probably buried beneath these fresh black mounds.

“Do you ever wonder why them and not you?” Gavin asked.

“All the time.”

The trade routes were oddly clear. Breaking the horde had driven any straggling elders into hiding, where they would doubtless hunt small game until they died. If they grew bold again, the Uroch would send word. Now and then we saw our allies on the road, going about their business. They wore white armbands and lifted their clawed hands in greeting. I wondered if I would ever get used to that.

So blasted strange.

Gavin and I traveled without trouble; and in the fall, it was easy to find forage—berries and nuts, ripe fruit on wild trees and fat hares lazy from eating all summer long. In that fashion we traveled from town to town carrying our tidings. Gavin stayed with me as I found the families and told them, one by one. In Gaspard, there weren’t many, but the weeping was fierce in Lorraine. We stayed there for two days, telling stories so that grieving relatives could comfort themselves with the knowledge that their loved ones had been heroes. And they were, of course, every last one of them. It didn’t require daring deeds, only the courage to stand when everyone else was running.