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I stared at the Lodestone. Light flashed above. My hands clenched. We were so close. I wanted to just draw my sword and hit the stone. To break it apart and free all those humans behind them.“Master,” Zanyia yowled. She bristled at my feet. “They’re getting closer.”“I can hear that,” I snarled. I threw a look over my shoulder at the two approaching treemen towering over the stocks.An idea popped into my head.“You take the one on the right,” I snapped.“Of course, Master.” She paused. “How?”“I don’t know. But you’re creative, Zanyia. You’ll think of something.”“And you?”“I have a dumb idea,” I said, the treemen splitting apart, navigating through the pit traps. “It probably won’t work.”“I hope it does. I would hate to have to find a new master.” Zanyia gave me a toothy grin. “Where would I find one with a cock as amazing as yours?”I grinned back at her. “You know just what to say, don’t you?”“I’m your slave, Master. Swelling your ego is part of the job!” Then she sprang onto the nearby. Either that or he was waiting for supplies and more men, which is what Captain Foster feared. I had already been down to Portsmouth once since the fight at Green Spring, and now I was supposed to go trail after Tarleton, reporting weekly if possible."You are in no shape to be riding anywhere," Missy said. "That thing's still oozing on your leg. Your nose looks some better though."I had not known it at the time, but in the fight at the gun after that charge of grape killed the brave, red-headed girl, I had taken a musket ball right across the bridge of my nose. Gave me two black eyes, took out a piece of bone and left another dent in my hide, but did not really amount to much unless appearance was important. I had long since stopped counting wounds or worrying about what I looked like."That Legion's out there ripping up the countryside out Lynchburg way where they hanged them Tories. I got'a get to work," I told Missy, bending to kiss her cheek. "Foster's sent what's left of his.
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