Kerian was aghast. According to the survey taken when they’d entered Inath-Wakenti, there should be at least twice that much remaining. What had happened to the food?

“Theft. Hoarding,” Porthios said flatly, but Alhana disagreed. There was no evidence anyone had stolen the food, and hoarding was hard to imagine given the close confines of the camp. Too, the missing food was all meat: stocks of smoked goat and mutton, as well as dozens of live chickens.

Kerian wondered whether the disappearances could be connected to the valley’s antipathy to animal life. If so, the ramifications were frightening. They’d thought themselves safe here on the south side of the creek. If that were no longer true.

Porthios’s hoarse voice interrupted her dark thoughts. “The provisions that remain will go further once we depart for Qualinesti. It’s past time for the army to be gone.”

Since arriving, he had been agitating to lead the army back to Qualinesti to rejoin the battle against Samuval. Many elves, including Alhana, thought it a good plan. As long as they were safe from the nomads, Kerian agreed. At first reluctant to surrender command of the army to Porthios, she had changed her mind when she realized his departure might help prevent an open break between the interventionists, led by Porthios, and the valley colonizers, led by Gilthas. The only stumbling block was Gilthas himself. He adamantly refused to divide the nation in the face of the perils, known and unknown, that lay beyond Lioness Creek.

Kerian wondered whether that was his only concern or whether he also worried about placing an army at Porthios’s disposal. That had concerned her as well, but she still believed the advantages outweighed the risks. With thousands of trained warriors as its core, a great army of rebels could be raised to drive out the bandits once and for all. The liberation of their homeland had never been so close. Gilthas must be made to see that.