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Gurlok, who’d emerged behind his wife, cleared his throat to say, “Those who remain will defend.”
“With what?” spat Kormac’s mother. “We all saw how useless they were yesterday. Only my son managed to take one down.” Silia completely ignored the three Fionna had handled.
“We were unprepared, true, but that’s going to change. Luckily, the envoy gave us tips on how to handle them.” Gurlok offered Fionna a nod. “Spears are already in production and the men will be starting drills today. We should have our first ballista ready within a few days. I’ve got carpenters working on the pieces from an old design I dug up. It won’t be pretty, no time for that, but we’ll have a defense for next time.”
Not if, when. Fionna liked Kormac’s dad more and more.
“You and your inventions. I guess we’ll have the witch at worst,” was Silia’s sour addition.
“Actually, I’m going with Kormac,” Fionna announced.
“No, you’re not,” Kormac replied quickly.
“Yes, I am,” she insisted, running her hand down his stallion’s flank. “You brought me here to help with Lomar and that is what I’m going to do.”
“I’ve seen how you ride a horse. It’s adequate at best. This mission will require hard riding to catch Lomar, meaning sitting in a saddle for hours. You won’t be able to keep up.”
“Is that a challenge?” Fionna arched a brow.
“It’s the truth,” he said harshly.
“Guess we’ll see.”
“No, we won’t because I’m leaving now.” With that, he mounted his stallion and galloped off with a small detachment of soldiers.
Fionna cocked her head. “He’s really stubborn.”
“He’s brave, a true warlord,” Silia stated before stalking back into the citadel with her floppy slippers and bad attitude.
Gurlok sidled close to murmur, “You’re going to follow him, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
“You’ll never catch him. By the time we get you saddled and geared, he’ll be long gone.”
“Who says I’m going to ride?” She gave Gurlok a secretive smile. “Did no one notice I didn’t arrive via carriage or horse?”
The former warlord frowned. “How did you travel here?”
“You’ll soon see,” she promised. First, she needed to pack and change. Time to ditch the long skirts for something more practical for combat.
When she emerged into the courtyard, Gurlok’s eyes widened at the sight of her. “Lady, I think you forgot your overskirt.”
Fionna glanced down at her bare legs before she winked at him. “Skirts get in the way when there’s a fight. Not to mention the fabric is flammable.”
“Fight?” he repeated in surprise.
“Lomar isn’t going to surrender, and we don’t know what other tricks the cursed entity might employ. Your son will need someone who can counter magic.”
“I wish I could come with you,” he replied ruefully.
“With Kormac gone, the citizens will need someone to look to, and who better than their former warlord?”
He sighed. “Agreed, but I don’t like it.” Gurlok noticed her bulging satchel. “I’ll have that transferred to a saddlebag. I’ve got a nice mare for you to ride. Steady and dependable.”
“I told you, no horse. If you want to see how I travel, we should go somewhere with fewer spectators as it involves magic.” Fionna didn’t want to ruin her newfound acceptance with some of them by exposing them too quickly to what a witch could do.
Gurlok’s expression brightened with interest. “You would let me see your arcane secrets?
