"That'll make the supply line back to Shek-erishet all the more important."
"Fielding this army is going to be a strain. Sparing the troops to keep the supply line open will cost us men who won't be available to fight. Keeping the army afield will just make the spring's harvest worse unless we can get them home to their farms by planting time. Thank heavens the winter crops are still in the fields." He chuckled. "We may have our fill of turnips and potatoes, but it's better than noth-ing."
Tris looked out over the barely organized chaos of the camp. In Bricen's day, Margolan's army had been one of the strongest in the Winter Kingdoms. Now, there were fewer than ten thousand men under colors, and some of those had to be left behind to keep the peace throughout the kingdom and secure the castle. Most of the troops were mortal: only three score at best were vayash moru. The majority were volunteers from the ruined farms and villages Jared's troops left in their wake, men and women who had welcomed the opportunity to even the score. While Curane's forces were likely to be even fewer, they were seasoned fighters, drawn from the old army ranks, secure within strong fortifications. It would not be an easy fight.
"Father always said that going to war took such a toll on your own people you barely needed an enemy," Tris said, watching the glow of the camp fires. "I'm beginning to understand what he meant."
"WAKE UP SIRE! We're being attacked!"
Tris scrambled to buckle his breastplate before he ducked from the tent. Sister Fallon, one of the mages, was running toward him. "Good. You're up. We need you."
The camp was already in motion. Soldiers grabbed their bows and pikes and ran for the camp's perimeter. Tris could hear Soterius and the generals shouting to gain order. Tris and Fallon ran for the wagons in the center of the camp and climbed to where they had a clear
view of the action. In the open ground between the camp and the dark forest rim, a hazy green light glowed, like low-hanging smoke. From within the shadows of the trees, the sound of groans carried on the night air.
A shadow grew at the edge of the forest, spreading rapidly across the plain toward the camp. Fallon raised her hands, and a burst of fire streamed from her fingertips, illuminating the night. It dispelled all but the growing darkness racing at them from the forest's edge.
Tris stretched out his power toward the darkness. Magic that normally came quickly to his command now seemed a struggle, as if the power were being pulled away. Tris doubled his effort, and felt the magic yield to his command. On the Plains of Spirit, he sensed the energy of the land around him. Darkness clustered in some places just as clearly as good fortune was drawn to others. Within the forest lay a bog, thinly covered with snow. Bogs were filled with decay, where dark energies fed darker creatures that shrank from the light. Still further beneath the parts of the bog, Tris could feel the Flow, damaged and tainted, its shattered energy feeding the malevolence.