The Lioness of Newsham

Chapter 13

Timus stepped outside his tent, bleary-eyed and sleepy. A late night of checking inventory and visiting wounded men had given him little time for sleep. And the nightmares made sure he was up before the beginnings of dawn. Death was a curse on the living, the nightmares a side effect of the curse.

As Timus stretched and shoved the events of his dreams from his mind, Maxen appeared from behind the line of tents. To Timus' chagrin, he felt a sliver of fear as the massive falconer stomped towards him. Timus felt he could die a million ways and, none of them pleasant, at the falconer's meaty hands. But he is a gentle giant, he had to keep reminding himself.

So, Timus smiled and said, "What can I do for you, my friend?"

"Letter from the king," Maxen replied, not even the twitch of a smile on his face as he handed a creamy envelope to Timus. "Looks urgent."

Timus glanced down at the envelope and saw the word 'urgent' sloppily printed.

"It does seem urgent," he said, looking up, but the falconer was already walking away. "Thank you!" Timus called.

He slid a dagger from a sheath at his hip, broke the royal seal, and slid the letter from the envelope.

Captain Timus,

We have received grave correspondence from Raul Pemberly, a royal ranger stationed in Torolf's Rise. The northern border is threatened by an unnatural force: dead men coming to life. For now, we are calling them the undead. We understand this is difficult to believe in, but unnatural events have been occurring around Ashana. The increasing numbers of refugees flooding into Falkirk have proven this to be true.

Kadence Pemberly arrived this morning and expressed a desire to help the cause, so we sent him to the northern border with a small troop of soldiers to help his brother. We pray daily for their safety.

We have not received correspondence from you in several weeks. How goes the research? Have you found anything that might help? We cannot have you stay at the Center for much longer. The Pemberlys need as much help as they can get. Raul seems to think that Shorgut is operating out of his old exile post, the Valley of Shorgut. You and your men must go there and kill him. It is the only chance we have of keeping our graves and our people undefiled.

May Zilphyr guide us all,

Alistair, king of Ashana

Timus raked his hand through his blonde curls. We have not received correspondence from you in several weeks. What of the letters I sent? Were they not sent? Obviously, they were not received. But... what happened to them?

Timus turned, his sky-blue eyes searching for the burly falconer. Instead, Karina stepped out of her tent, fresh grief settling as shadows under her eyes. Their eyes met and Timus' heart plummeted as he remembered the rest of the letter. Her father and uncle... on the frontlines of a hopeless war. Looking at her now, in this fragile state of grief, he learned something and grew a little bit. Knowledge was a burden. A burden she bore every day. And now he had a choice. Burden her with future grief or keep silent.

Karina walked towards him, her emerald eyes large and sorrowful.

"Did you sleep well?" he inquired cheerfully, though he knew by the way she dug her fingers into her coat, she had not.

"Did you?" she replied.

He said nothing. How could they sleep when their companion would sleep on for eternity, doomed to never wake? No, sleep had forsaken this camp.