The message from Yarrow had come late in the night; it was only at 2500 hours that Anala had received it from Ghia. It seemed Jester had tried most of the night to get the message through, without much success.
Once they knew what to do, Anala had flown into action; she was still settling her regiments and trying to get the castle ready for the battle ahead. She would not let them attack Lord Exsil Vis’ troops until the regiments from Harbourtown were seen coming into town by a sentry; she wanted a victory, not a bloodbath.
She was at the hospitalis herself, with the third regiment, for it was the most important place in the castle. And she could not stand it if another death occurred there that she could prevent.
Ghia was sleeping; she’d told the girl to get some rest. She’d wake her if she needed her.
As she paced the entryway, a cold stone dropped into her gut. Something was wrong.
Impatiently she shook it off. She was going to stay here at the hospitalis. She needed to protect her cousin.
A chill ran down her spine.
She was not so successful shaking that off, and soon her entire body was clanging with instinct: something is wrong! Go go go!
She could not disobey her battle sense again. She turned to Leala, the new bellica of the Third Regiment. Since the fifth, and the death of Anita, Anala and Leala had bonded, somewhat. Over the lost loves of their lives, if nothing else.
“Leala, ‘old it ‘ere. Make sure Ghia’d be kept safe, aright?”
The woman nodded and saluted, saying nothing. She understood how important the Head Healer was to Atherton and not just Anala.
Orders given, the admiral dashed off down the hallway, hoping she wasn’t too late.