Inyx, Ducasien, Nowless, and three others slipped quietly into the compound.

“No disturbance to warn them, now,” cautioned Nowless. They made their way directly for the mess hall. Nowless went inside while the others stood watch.

“I don’t like this,” mumbled Ducasien.

“It’s all right,” soothed Inyx. “Different worlds, different ways of waging war.”

“I still prefer an honest sword fight.”

“You,” came the harsh voice. “Why are you loitering there? Don’t you have other duties?”

“Please,” spoke up Inyx. “We… well, we were just looking for a secluded spot.”

The officer strode over. The instant he was within range, Inyx spun, drew her sword, and lunged. The tip of her blade caught the man directly in the groin. He grabbed his wounded crotch and let out a bleat like a kicked sheep. No other sound emerged from his mouth. Ducasien’s strong hand clamped over his mouth. The other hand went to the back of the officer’s head. One quick jerk broke the man’s neck.

“Well met,” complimented Nowless, emerging from the kitchens. “Dump him inside and let’s be on our way.”

“Wait!” Inyx shook her head. “If they find him inside they might do some checking. We can carry him with us. For a ways.”

Nowless indicated that two of the men were to carry the slain officer. Inyx liked Nowless more and more. He was a brave man and a good leader not afraid to change plans when a better suggestion came up. She had seen men too stiff-necked to ever change their minds.

Like Lan Martak.

The thought of the brown-haired man, his gentle ways of loving, the times they had spent together before the magics so overwhelmed him brought a glistening to Inyx’s blue eyes. She fought back the tears. How she wished he were here with her. But, like her long-dead husband, Lan was forever lost to her.