Free Mist-Torn Witches 02:Witches in Red by Barb Hendee Page A

a clearing up ahead, he knew they’d arrived at their destination. As his horse broke through the tree line, he had no idea what to expect.
    But . . . he had anticipated at least seeing a number of small buildings. From what he understood, Prince Lieven had had men stationed here for five years.
    “Tents?” Amelie asked in equal puzzlement, pulling her horse up beside his.
    Six enormous tents and numerous smaller ones were the only dwellings in sight. Behind the tents stood a large, makeshift wooden barn, but it appeared to be the only permanent construction.
    Several soldiers in dark brown tabards—and carrying spears—turned their way, but they all froze as Céline rode up beside her sister and then Rurik brought up the rear.
    Jaromir raised a hand in greeting. No one responded, and the soldiers milling among the tents stood staring at Amelie and Céline. These men appeared unwashedand on edge, with tight, anxious expressions. Following his instincts, Jaromir decided not to advance until someone approached him.
    Finally, an overweight guard came walking over, gripping his spear but holding the point straight up.
    “You lost?” he asked.
    Two other guards came up behind him, looking even more unkempt up close. One was young, maybe seventeen, with long tangled hair and mismatched eyes: one blue, one brown. He appeared more skittish than edgy. His companion was a little older and taller, with two missing front teeth. The younger one hid halfway behind him, as if seeking protection.
    But all three men continued to stare at Amelie and Céline.
    Jaromir tensed at the complete lack of military discipline, and he pitched his tone to cold, angry authority. “I am Lieutenant Jaromir of Castle Sèone. We’ve been sent at the request of Prince Lieven. I would speak with Captain Keegan.”
    There was still a soldier inside the rotund guard directly in front of him, because the man winced, as if remembering something forgotten. Then he straightened and touched his chest. “Guardsman Saunders, sir.” He pointed first to the youth behind him and then to the other man. “Guardsmen Graham and Ramsey.”
    “Where is your captain?” Jaromir asked.
    Saunders turned around. “This way, sir.”
    Remaining mounted, Jaromir nodded to Amelie and then followed Guardsman Saunders through the tents. Many of the temporary shelters they passed lookedyears old, with patches and untended holes. It wasn’t raining, but the sky was overcast and gray, adding to the dismal quality of their surroundings. Saunders led them toward the back of the encampment to the second- largest of the tents—the size of a small house—only this one appeared newer than the others.
    Jaromir dismounted and turned to help Amelie off her horse. She looked at his outstretched hands and seemed about to push them away, but he shook his head once, hoping she’d have the sense to play her part. Thankfully, she seemed to realize this as well and let him lift her down. Rurik was on the ground, doing the same for Céline.
    “Announce us and then see to our horses,” Jaromir ordered.
    Saunders stuck his head inside the open front flap of the tent. “Captain, visitors here to see you . . . from Castle Sèone.”
    Without waiting for an invitation, Jaromir walked past him, inside, motioning to his companions to follow. After the shabby visage of the camp outside, he was somewhat taken aback by the luxury now surrounding him. The floor was covered in thick furs. Tapestries hanging from the ceiling had been tastefully arranged to create partitions. There was a long polished table with six wooden chairs in the center of the main area, decorated with silver candlesticks. Looking through the partitions toward the rear, he could see a round, stone-bordered fire pit with a ventilation hole up above, so this tent could be kept warm when necessary.
    At present, the tent held only two occupants, both men in chain armor and dark brown tabards. Jaromir pegged Captain Keegan