They did worry that Alvar might have stopped at the children's camp as he headed back to his military base. But if he had, it was only temporary and he'd moved on before they arrived. The children had only five guards and a small staff to tend to them. Tyrus spent a quarter of a day ensuring that--scouting to be certain there were no hidden troops waiting to spring a trap. There wasn't. At sundown, they launched their strike.
This time, they used Zuri to their advantage--Tyrus and Moria got the dragon whelp flying above the camp, as she traveled between her two favorite people, both armed with fresh meat. The sight of a dragon sent the camp into a tizzy, and from there, the guards were easily routed. The servants seemed ill-inclined to fight, particularly on seeing an imperial prince and their own lord's son leading the charge with a Keeper at their backs. The older children rose up, too, the girls as well as the boys, grabbing whatever they could find as weapons, in case the servants attacked. They did not. The warriors were easily beaten and the caretakers easily cowed.
And that was it. The camp was taken.
That's when Moria and Ashyn got their truest reward. Their reunion with the children of Edgewood. The others stayed back for that. Even Ashyn had been inclined to linger on the fringes. She'd been friendly with the children of their village, but it had always been her sister whom they loved. Or so she thought. Now, they embraced her and they clung to her and they climbed on Tova. And she realized that, perhaps, she had never been overshadowed by Moria quite as much as she'd felt overshadowed. The sisters were different. But that only meant they had their own strengths. And while the older children clamored about Moria and chattered to her and told her all that had happened, the little ones curled up with Ashyn, on her knee and in her arms and leaning against her, and they cried and she comforted them.
Then the children wanted to see Tyrus. After all, he was an imperial prince and certainly no word of his alleged betrayal had reached their ears. For them, it was like meeting the emperor himself. Even better, because Tyrus was young and friendly and handsome and had stormed in to their rescue, blade flashing. Along with Moria, he was the hero of their childhood dreams. Someone else was, too. A young warrior they remembered from Edgewood, now fighting at Tyrus and Moria's side: Gavril.
The children did not seem to realize his father was responsible for their captivity, or if they did, they did not blame him. He was Gavril Kitsune. From Edgewood. He may not have been friendly or even well-liked, but that was forgotten now, because he was familiar and as much a hero as Moria and Tyrus. Gavril took one look at those glowing faces, heard one joyous shout of "Gavril!," mumbled some excuse about the horses, and bolted from the compound.
Moria and Tyrus exchanged a look. Tyrus whispered something to Moria, and she nodded and left the children in Tyrus's care, promising them something truly magical if they behaved.
While Moria went to speak to Gavril, Ronan came in from securing the camp with Dalain and Sabre. Some of the children recognized Ronan, and, like Gavril, it didn't matter what he'd been before. They saw not an exiled thief, but the young rogue who'd escaped the inescapable forest, who'd joined their heroes and come to their rescue. Then there was Dalain, and when Tyrus said who his father was, the older children stared in awe, having heard tales of the Gray Wolf. And a bandit king's daughter? A girl who'd charged into the camp, alongside the warriors, armed with her sling? For once, Sabre didn't insist her father was no bandit. Clearly the children were entranced, and she let them be, showing the older girls her sling as she chattered away.
Moria returned shortly after that. Gavril followed, staying at her back. It helped that she brought with her something guaranteed to turn their attent
ion from the reluctant hero. The children promptly forgot the warriors and the thief and the bandit girl and the prince and even their own Keeper and Seeker. There was a dragon in the camp. Nothing else mattered.
Zuri seemed a little uncertain, with so many children, but Tyrus was there and Moria was there, and Daigo, too, sticking by Zuri's side like her appointed protector. She accepted some petting and such, and by the time Tyrus declared it was time to leave, they had a camp filled with very happy and very tired children, all ready to collapse, asleep, in the Okami wagons.
In short, the rescue and the reunion were everything Ashyn could have imagined.
FORTY-SIX
Moria lay beside Tyrus in the wagon. They were fully dressed, which was a shame, but she was still recovering from her injuries, and this was hardly the time for more exploration. They also both had too much on their minds to devote their full attention to that, as it deserved. For now, what they needed most was quiet time together, away from those other thoughts and responsibilities. So they'd retreated to the wagon to "talk and rest," and while they were in a recumbent position, they'd been too busy kissing to talk. Lots of wonderful and delicious kisses, which made Moria decide that while the exploration was very fun and satisfying indeed, there was something to be said for simply lying in each other's arms.
"Does this hurt your side?" Tyrus whispered as he tugged her on top of him.
"I do not care if it does," she said.
He chuckled, startling Daigo and Zuri, who were curled up at the other end of the wagon. Being careful with her bandaged side, he wrapped his hands in her hair, and their lips had barely touched when a rap came at the wagon door.
"Tyrus?" Dalain said. "May I enter?" He lowered his voice. "I will keep my gaze averted."
"Come in," Tyrus said.
Dalain stepped inside--backward.
Tyrus chuckled again and said, "We are fully dressed."
"But not lying with a handbreadth between you, I'll wager."
"I find it more restful without space between us," Moria said.
Dalain turned, smiling, and shook his head. "I know I'm the oldest one in the party when the others accepted your excuse of 'resting and talking' without comment. I am sorry to interrupt, Tyrus, but I need to speak to you. I'll keep it brief."
They talked, mostly Tyrus and Dalain, though Moria listened in, and Tyrus would glance over, taking in her thoughts with a look, amending his plans if she displayed any sign of doubt. Tyrus would never be a bold, blustering leader, certain that every word that came from his lips was divinely inspired. He consulted those around him when their skills were better suited to a task. And he consulted her as a sounding board, a trusted confidante who would always tell him exactly what she thought.
This was their second night on the road. They were still traveling--continuing through the night, taking turns resting in the wagons. They would arrive at the imperial city in another day. And Tyrus was terrified.
Dalain had sent two of his men to his father's territory, to convince Lord Okami to join them as they neared the city. Yet what they asked was dangerous. It placed Lord Okami firmly at the side of several supposed traitors. What they planned to do might force Emperor Tatsu's hand more than he could afford to have it forced in a time of war. They'd agreed, though, that it was the only way. No more skulking about, caught between the two sides, accused of betraying both. They were marching on the city, possibly to end up in its dungeons. And if they did, then it did not matter that all had agreed--Tyrus would blame himself.
When Dalain left, Tyrus fell back onto the sleeping pallet, sighing. Moria moved against him again and he smiled for her, pulling her into a kiss. They lost themselves in that distraction for a few moments longer.
They were breaking for a brief meal, when the messenger they'd sent to speak to Lord Okami came riding hard.
"He comes," the young man panted. "With an army at his rear."