he would eat. “Tell me what you know.”
“They were in the ground,” Hoyt began, “as they were when they set upon Blair. Tynan said no more than fifty, but the men were taken by surprise. He told us it seemed they didn’t care if they were cut down, but charged and fought like mad animals. Two of our men fell in the first instant, and they gained three horses from us in the confusion of the battle.”
“Nearly a third of the horses that went with them.”
“Four, maybe five of them took the smithy’s son, alive from what those who tried to save him said. They took him off, heading east, while the rest held their line and battled back. They killed more than twenty, and the others scattered and ran as the tide turned.”
“It was a victory. You have to look at it that way,” Blair insisted. “You have to. Your men took out over twenty vamps on their first engagement. Your casualties were light in comparison. Don’t say every death is one too many,” she added quickly. “I know that. But this is the reality of it. Their training held up.”
“I know you’re right, and I’ve already told myself the same. But it was their victory, too. They wanted a prisoner. No reason else to take one. Their mission must have been to take one alive, whatever the cost of it.”
“You’re right, no argument. But I don’t see that as a victory in their column. It was stupid, and it was a waste. Say five for the prisoner. Those vamps had stayed and fought, they’d have taken more of ours—alive or dead. My take is that Lilith ordered this because she was feeling pissy, or it was impulse. But it was also bad strategy.”
Moira ate food she couldn’t taste while she considered it. “The way she sent King back to us. It was petty, and vicious. But playful in her way. She thinks these things will undermine us, crush our spirits. How can she know us so little? You’ve lived half her time,” she said to Cian. “You know better.”
“I find humans interesting. She finds them…tasty at best. You don’t have to know the mind of a cow to herd them up for steaks.”
“Especially if you’ve got a whole gang to handle the roping and riding,” Blair put in. “Just following your metaphor,” she said to Cian. “I hurt her girl, so she needs some payback for that. We took three of her bases—should add we cleared out the second two locations this morning.”
“They were empty,” Larkin stated. “She hadn’t bothered to set traps there, or base any of her troops. Added to that, Glenna told us how you played with her while we were gone.”
“Sum of it is, this was tit for tat. But she loses more than we do. Doesn’t make it any easier on the families of the dead,” Blair added.
“And tomorrow, I send more out. Phelan.” Moira reached out for Larkin. “I can’t hold him back. I’ll speak to Sinann, but—”
“No, that’s for me. I expect our father has already talked to her, but I’ll see her myself.”
She nodded. “And Tynan? His wounds?”
“A gash along the hip. Hoyt treated the wounded. He was doing well when we left them. They’re secured for the night.”
“Well then. We’ll pray for sun in the morning.”
She had another duty to see to.
Her women had a sitting room near her own chambers where they could sit and read, or do needlework, or gossip. Moira’s mother had made it a cheerful, intensely female space with soft fabrics, many cushions, pots filled with flowering plants.
The fire here was habitually of apple wood for the scent, and there were wall sconces of pretty winged faeries.
When she was crowned, Moira had given her own women leave to make any changes they liked. But the room remained as it had in all her memory.
Her women were there now, waiting for her to retire for the night, or simply dismiss them.
They rose when she entered, and curtseyed.
“We’re all women here now. For now, in this place, we’re all only women.” She opened her arms to Ceara.
“Oh, my lady.” Ceara’s eyes, already red and swollen from weeping overflowed as she rushed into Moira’s embrace. “Dwyn is dead. My brother is dead.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Here now, here.” She led Ceara to a seat, holding her close. And she wept with her as she’d wept with Ceara’s mother, and all the others.
“They buried him there, in a field by the road. They couldn’t even bring him home. He had no wake.”
“We’ll have a holy man consecrate the ground. And we’ll build a monument to those who fell today.”
“He was eager to go, to fight. He turned and waved at me before he marched off.”
“You’ll have some tea now.” Her own eyes red from weeping, Isleen set the pot down. “You’ll have some tea, Ceara, and you, my lady.”