“Will and his people have taken position in the trees.” Her husband and seneschal, Aedan, spoke softly into his handheld radio. “Beau, you and your men hold the road here. Harlech, divide yours and move to the east and west approaches. Farlae, you and yours wait here.” Behind them, one hundred warriors split into four separate groups and silently dispersed. Jayr turned to her tracker, who was still crouched on the ground, his eyes closed and his face curiously blank. “What can you tell me, Rain?” “It is colder here than Orlando,” the tracker complained. “I should have listened to Farlae and brought my furs.” She pressed her lips together. “I meant, what can you tell me about the Italians who came here?” “There are seventy or so. They left their vehicle behind and went in on foot, in formation. Wait.” He opened his eyes and turned his head, nodding at a thicket.
