Once again, Guelder crossed the gate of the main Kellid camp. She'd spent the night at Hilla's encampment, plagued by a nightmare sent by Linzi. It was nothing special in terms of imagery, but its message was all the more worrying. Team South had fallen apart, which had led to unsurprising consequences. Now Valerie and Linzi were camping out in the open, without food or shelter, and also without a pair of keen elven eyes looking out for them. Hazel had run off to follow the trail of the mass exodus to the south, and there was a chance they would get themself into serious trouble without Valerie's shield to protect them and her common sense to keep them grounded. Still, they all had something to show for their troubles. Valerie and Linzi had obtained the third censer, and Hazel probably knew where exactly to continue the search for the baron. Now all the two (or three?) teams had to do was stay alive until they'd meet again.

  Whatever Guelder hoped to accomplish with the remaining Sister, she had to be quick about it.

  By the time she reached Dugath's tent, the denizens of the camp were gathered on the free space in front of it – including the Sister, who greeted the baroness with an accusatory finger pointing at her.

  "Tiger Lords! We trusted this person, and she betrayed us! All my three sisters are dead! She killed them! She must be punished!"

  Guelder's pupils narrowed. This was bad. She'd planned to talk to Dugath one-to-one about the Tiger Lords' plans in Varnhold. Her garrison had already been set up in the capital, and she'd have preferred to avoid any misunderstanding or bloodshed. But of course, Nyrissa's crony had to thwart her plans.

  The Sisters, too, are victims of Nyrissa, she reminded herself. They were spoiled of their immortality and sent on a suicide mission, into battles they were ill-equipped to win. Still, she found herself running out of compassion for them. When she'd watched the other Sister die, she'd felt the urge to save her and try to gain her as an ally. This time, she wasn't motivated in the least to do so. If she managed to save those she'd come here to save, without losing any of her friends, this expedition could be called a success. Everything else was an extra she could do without.

  "Oh," she said, trying her best to bluff. "So I killed them all. That is weird because I have yet to visit the site in the south. Now I am either powerful enough to kill a person remotely, with my mere thoughts, or you are telling lies – not for the first time, I reckon."

  Grumbles of discontent came from part of the onlookers.

  "Where are the other Sisters, then?" exclaimed Bolga the half-orc, drawing herself up to her considerable full height. "We need their guidance to accomplish the mission the great Armag entrusted us with! Raise a finger against them, and the chieftain's wrath will strike you down!"

  Was it just Guelder's wishful thinking, or did Dugath roll his eyes, ever so slightly?

  "Do not be so generous with the chieftain's wrath, Bolga," said the old cleric. "I am in charge of this expedition and its participants, not you. That said, I am also curious about the fate of the three Sisters."

  "Of course," said Guelder. "As I already mentioned, I have yet to meet the one who went to the south. As to the one who went to the west... Brambles, it is hard to refer to them without names, is it not?" She looked around at the Tiger Lords in mock cluelessness. "Can someone help me out?"

  "Our names and faces do not matter," sputtered the last Sister. "We gave those up for the mission's sake. We are servants of benevolent –"

  "Well, I, for one, have a name and a face, and neither of those stops me from searching for ancient artifacts, whenever I fancy to do so!" snapped Guelder, cutting her short.

  A few scattered chuckles let her know that some of the audience harboured the same doubts as she did. Others, however, didn't hesitate to express their dislike.

  "Don't change the subject, elf!"

  "Where are they?"

  Guelder ignored them and pushed on with her counterattack.

  "Tell the truth, Sister! What is your mission that requires you to be nameless and faceless, even amidst your own people?"

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  "Her own people, my ass!" grumbled an old warrior somewhere behind Dugath's back. "She is not one of us! The Tiger Lords never had Defaced Sisters in their ranks! Not until Armag appeared out of the blue, along with his eight mothers!"

  "Enough!" exclaimed the Sister. Then she switched to Hallit, effectively excluding Guelder from the conversation.

  Hilla rose to Guelder's defence, spilling handful upon handful of tribal necklaces on the ground from her pouch – keepsakes from her comrades fallen at the City of Hollow Eyes in a fool's errand. Then she let Amiri speak about what she'd seen in the Sepulchre of Forgotten Heroes. Guelder could only hope that Amiri abode by what they'd agreed upon previously and blamed the death of that Sister on a zombie cyclops. After Bolga expressed what must have been her contrary opinion, one of Hilla's men placed an oblong bundle on the ground and unfurled it, exposing the dead Sister's body without her usual shroud.

  Horrified gasps came from the onlookers when they saw the thing the corpse had for a face. Some of them started to shout at the last living Sister, probably demanding her to remove her veil. That, however, proved to be a bad idea. A shrill sound of keening erupted from the Sister's throat, squelching the angry demands and setting Guelder's nerves on edge, down to the marrow of her bones. It didn't spare the barbarians, either. Some of them braced their heads and stopped their ears, others just stood there, zoned out, their faces distorted with dread.

  "Silence!" thundered Dugath, who hitherto followed the altercation with an impassive face. Surprisingly, the Sister cut off her wail, and the old cleric continued (once again in Common), claiming everyone's attention. "So our western group has been wiped out, our northern group decimated, and there is no news of our southern group. And now this... erm... respectable advisor of the great Armag wants us to besmirch our honour by slaying our guest based on unproven accusations. How long will you all put up with being led on by these... things? Well, I, for one, have had enough. If the great Armag wants his bauble, he can bloody well go find it himself. If he is what he makes himself out to be, surely he'll have no issue sorting out a host of zombies and cyclopes and whatnot on his own. I'm going home to Numeria, and whoever has a pinch of common sense left will come with me."

  "Blasphemy!" spat the Sister. "Tiger Lords, all who are faithful to the great Armag, to my side! Crush the enemies of your people, starting with her, the treacherous Baroness Guelder, who came here to sow dissension among us!"

  The raven took off from the top of Dugath's tent and departed, letting out a contented caw.

  "What?" muttered Hilla, frowning. "You are Baroness Guelder herself? Am I stupid?"

  "Have you been sleepwalking through Pitax, Hilla?" sighed Dugath. "Or did you have trouble putting two and two together, just because she has no cat ears and furry tail?"

  "Indeed," said Guelder, turning the momentary respite to her own advantage, and trying not to dwell on her reputation in Pitax. "I am the ruler of neighbouring Nightvale. I did not come to sow dissension but to find Baron Varn, my friend and ally, and help him in his predicament. I am not an enemy to the Tiger Lords, and I would prefer that to remain so. If everything goes according to plan, the baron will return to his land and throne in a week. Dugath, you have expressed your intention to return to Numeria with those willing to follow you. I request you do so within the next seven days. The land of Varnhold has suffered enough. Let it heal. Do not unleash a different kind of evil upon it."

  Dugath contracted his bushy eyebrows and measured up Guelder from top to toe.

  "Or else?" he asked.

  She was so close to rise to the taunt, to mention her garrison in Varnhold Town and her troops deployed along the border, however unwise it seemed to try to intimidate a few dozen burly followers of the war god. In terms of avoiding bloodshed, she would have stood better chances amidst a pack of hungry wolves. Luckily, Amiri chose this moment to intervene.

  "When we free the people of Varnhold, they will be in no shape to prove themselves worthy opponents, and a senseless massacre of weaklings is not something that pleases Our Lord in Iron."

  "Well said," chimed in Hilla. "We'd better pack it up, head back home, and turn our attention towards our real enemies: the fey walking among us wrapped in shrouds, toying with our lives and using us for their own purposes!"

  "Traitor!" exclaimed Bolga, drawing her sword.

  Some of the barbarians surrounded the Sister, protecting her with their bodies. Knuckles were being cracked, muscles flexed, rage about to be unleashed. People drifted towards the frontline, ready to clash.

  "Go now, baroness," said Hilla softly. "You have a baron to rescue. If you succeed, give him my regards."

  Guelder glanced at Dugath, who met her gaze and jerked his head towards the exit. In this conflict, there was no place for strangers.

  She needed no more confirmation. With Hilla's men covering their retreat, Team North left the Tiger Lord camp at a steady pace, walking a thin line between dignified departure and unseemly haste. It was best not to linger where barbarians were about to sort out their differences. And finally, the way forward seemed clear.