Chapter LX - Fare Well

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I am now a parent! Jack Sparrow (or Jackie, we're not sure yet) was brought to my door this morning after falling from a rooftop nest. Now I have to feed the damn thing every half hour for weeks, so woo-freaking-hoo.

Dedication to @_Sarah989_ and welcome to the family :D

The three of us hurried back to the army, but before we were halfway through worming our way towards the horses and Tem, a sharp whistle cut through the chatter of several thousand people. It demanded silence, and the army was so well trained by then that they offered it after a few breaths to finish their conversations.

And when everyone was as quiet as they were going to get, Tem's voice flooded over the whole battlefield. "It's four days' journey to the pass, and the nearest major garrison is a week from here. Keep a decent pace and they won't get close to you. You are safe as long as you keep walking. That is a promise."

There was a spate of muttering, but it was far from malicious. These people were exhausted and scared and wounded. They just wanted to go home.

We crept forwards until we had a vantage point of the northerners standing uphill in a ragged line. Temris was out in front, once again waiting for quiet. He had an air of patience about him, but I knew he wanted to be out of Canton as soon as humanly possible.

Once the muttering had died down, Tem beckoned with his left hand and Ronan stepped forwards, where he was clapped around the shoulder. "This is Ronan. He will be leading you. I would listen to him if I were you. He knows which direction you need to walk."

Ronan looked far from ecstatic, but he had been a good choice for this. He had the instincts and training of every northern warrior, and he had lived in the south for years. There wouldn't be as much cultural friction.

More muttering. This time, Tem didn't bother waiting. "There is space in the carts for those who cannot walk, but the children will have to be carried. You leave now."

We had only brought two carts, but the Anglians had a stockpile around here somewhere and horses too. No doubt they had sent people to hitch them up, because we had perhaps two hundred wounded and very few of them were fit to walk.

To punctuate the announcement, Ronan climbed onto a bay horse that had belonged to Colloe, and he cut a path through the mass of people and towards the gates. He was coming towards us, and I adjusted our route so we would pass him on our way to the horses. His eyes picked me out from the crowd easily, because I was one of very people wearing armour and the southerners were giving me a wide berth.

"Gods be with you, Lyra," he called, saluting me with two fingers. "When you get to Sierra, make a story out of the king-killing, eh?"

"Aye," I promised. "I will."

He smiled at me — that satisfied, weather-worn smile that he'd used as a reward for answering a tricky question even if we had got it wrong. I had been on the receiving end more often than any of the other children, because I had taken to my letters like a duck to water, and I had drunk in every story he ever told us. Those had been simpler times.

And then he was past, and we resumed our walk at a faster pace to cut through the crowd, who were starting to follow their guide. Many were carrying injured friends or complete strangers towards the carts, and others had the younger children in their arms. No one wanted to get left behind, but no one wanted to leave anyone else behind, either. There was a kinship to battle that could be hard to ignore.

The northerners' horses were still on the embankment behind the battle lines. It was there that we found Kiare setting off, but she reined in her horse at our arrival. It was not actually her horse — it was Anlai's grey gelding, and I couldn't help wondering how she had convinced him, of all people, to give her such a valuable present.

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