THE MARGOLAN ARMY moved with greater speed than Tris had imagined. It would take a week to reach the Southern Plains where Curane's holdings were located. His horse nickered and snuffled. Surrounded by bodyguards and soldiers, Tris was better sheltered from the wind than the men who rode on the outer edge of the formation. They took turns, moving from the outer edge to the inner ranks as the cold wind buffeted them.
Tris could see the mixture of excitement and apprehension in the Coalan's face. Going to war had not been part of Soterius's plan to keep his nephew safe.
Tris sighed. Going to war hadn't been part of his own plans, either. Soterius gave him a sideways glance.
"Skrivven for your thoughts."
Tris managed a smile. "I was thinking that at least now we can make a fire when we camp."
"And this time, we know where the Mar-golan army is."
Most of the soldiers now under colors were the deserters, stragglers, and rebels Soterius had gathered to remove Jared from the throne. Pell, Tabb, and Andras, three of Soterius's first converts to the rebellion, were now captains with their own commands. Tris's generals, Senne, Palinn, Tarq, and Rallan, rode with their troops.
All day, the troops had marched across snow-covered hills and deep valleys, criss-crossed by half-frozen streams. At the edge of the forest, they made camp for the night. The' further south they traveled, the more Tris's gut told him something was not quite right. Since he had come into his power, he had grown accustomed to the continual presence of his magic, deep in a corner of his mind. The closer they got to Curane's holdings, the more his magic felt brittle and fragile or pushed nearly out of reach. It's the Flow, Tris thought. It's getting worse. Now, only a day's march from their target, the sense of discomfort had become physical, giving him a headache and draining his energy.
Setting up camp for the night made Tris's caravan experience pale in comparison. The sheer number of tents and wagons necessary to move a small city of soldiers seemed almost beyond
reckoning. Barely a year ago, he, Carroway, and Soterius had been the ones rigging the tents. Now, soldiers scurried to set camp, and Coalan watched over Tris's tent personally. Supper fires were lit, and Tris found that the prospect of a hot meal, even if it were to be beans and salt pork, was the highlight of the day.
"The supplies we've brought with us will only last a little over a month once we reach Curane's holdings," Soterius said as they stood near a fire, watching the preparations around them. "I've organized foraging parties, but I'm expecting that Curane's stripped the land, knowing that we'd come. Goddess knows, there aren't many villages in this area, and the scouts I sent to see what the villagers could spare came back with little. It's a lean year."