We trek through the forest, pausing for a short break by a river. It’s refreshing to wash my face in the flowing water. I can’t wait until I’m out of Rahlan’s grasp and traveling on my own, then I’ll be able to bathe in private whenever I find a stream.

I’m going to have so many stories to share with Jacob. Usually he’s the one sharing tales from his journeys, but none of them top the extraordinary experiences I’ve had over the last two weeks.

Night falls, and the line of men gather into a group to setup camp. I’m lifted off Mittens and placed on the ground. The dry pine needles crack under my boots as I stretch my legs. Many of the men use the pine trees as a base for their tents. The lack of underbrush makes this an ideal place to camp.

“Hiding behind the trees!?” Ohan calls, “Did ya’ chicken out!?”

Rahlan grins. He collects two wooden practice swords from a weapon bag and heads to meet Ohan.

“Too scared to fight with steel?” Ohan taunts. Theron follows with a smirk, enjoying Ohan’s show.

Rahlan tosses Ohan a wooden sword. “I wouldn’t want to injure you.”

Ohan chuckles, waving the sword around to get a feel of it. Rahlan takes his stance with the wooden blade extended in front of him.

Ohan charges forward and swings in a wide arch. Their blades meet with a loud crack, echoing through the camp. Ohan yanks his blade away and thrusts it forward, aiming for Rahlan’s stomach. Rahlan parries, sending the sword off to the side and leaving Ohan off balance. He whips his blade around, narrowly missing Ohan’s overextended arm.

Rahlan’s wooden sword is straight, unlike the curved blade he uses in real combat, and Ohan seems to prefer an axe. Despite the fact that they’re both somewhat out of there element, their movements are quick and fluid with years of experience behind them. It looks frightening, but also a little fun.

Ohan swings for Rahlan’s legs, but it’s deflected. He doubles back and aims his return swing for the head. Rahlan ducks, dodging the sword and lunging forward with his own attack. The momentum of Ohan’s failed swing stops him from reacting in time, and Rahlan’s sword hits Ohan’s chest. His thick tunic protects him from the wooden blade, but the force knocks him off his feet. If that was a real sword, it would have gone right through him.

He pushes himself to sit up and shakes the pine needles out of his hair. “Two Prymni, right?” he says.

Rahlan helps him up. “I believe it was five.”

“I heard ten,” Theron says from his post by the tree.

“Shut ya’ yap,” Ohan says. “Double or nothing?”

His wooden sword lies among the pine needles. I pick it up and run it through my fingers. It’s littered with little nicks where their blades met. They were hitting hard.

“’Tis your money.” Rahlan offers his hand to shake.

Ohan takes his hand. “Deal, but I’m carving myself an axe.”

I test the wooden blade against my leather tunic. Satisfied that I’m protected, I take Ohan’s place with my sword ready.

Rahlan raises an eyebrow. I raise the wooden blade, pointing it at him like he did earlier.

He takes his stance with one foot behind the other. I shout my battle cry and lunge at him to throw him off. I’m shorter than him, so I play to my strengths and swing my blade at his legs.

He deflects my strike before it even gets close. The hard impact resonates down the sword, making my hands ache. He swings his blade with a smirk, forcing me to jump upright and stumble back.

“Dominant hand on top,” he says.

I look at my hands and quickly swap them around.

He shoots forward with his blade in line with my chest. I try spring back but end up falling on my butt.

“Feet apart.” He takes a step back to give me a chance to recover.

I jump to my feet and strike at his middle. He parries my attack and counters with a swing for my head. I duck down like my life depends on it.

His blade passes well above me, and I lunge forward with my sword aimed at his chest, just as he did to Ohan.

He pivots left, staying out of my blade’s path. I only have just enough time to pull back before he returns a strike.

“Fast learner,” he says with a grin.

“You’ll regret teaching her that,” Theron says with his arms crossed.

My breathing is heavy, and sweat beads on my forehead. This is way more exhausting than I expected. I take a deep breath, readying myself, then I pull back and swing forward with my hardest strike yet.

He blocks it, and the impact knocks the sword out of my hand.

My blade falls to the ground, landing beside his feet in the pine needles.

“Gather around! Gather around!” a man shouts across the camp. Theron heads off, and Rahlan turns to get a view, facing his back to me.

I charge at him at full speed, slamming into him and knocking him off his feet. He hits the ground, and I land on top of him.

He pushes me off and gets up again. “You’ve really got to stop doing that.”

I dust the dirt and pine needles off my pants. “But it’s my best move.”

All the vampires are drawn to one spot. Rahlan rests his hand on my shoulder and guides me towards the gathering.

We group up with the others, and he lightly presses on my shoulders, signaling for me to sit down. I sit with my legs crossed, and Rahlan takes a seat behind me.

We’re in the front row, just a few feet from the bellowing man. His cape is patterned with gold stitches. It must have cost a fortune. He’s the man I confused for Rahlan last night. He stands tall and proud with long blond hair, his flashy clothes and arrogant pose distinguishing him from the other vampires.

“That’s Lord Soran. This is his campaign,” Rahlan whispers into my ear, noticing my bewildered look.

So Rahlan is fighting as a soldier under this man. Is Lord Soran also after Uncle Ivan? I want to ask Rahlan, but I worry that mentioning Ivan will only reinforce his belief that I know him. Rahlan’s only dragging me along because he thinks he can use me to find Ivan, and that knowledge alone makes me uncomfortable.

If this whole campaign was just about catching Ivan, then Lord Soran would’ve ordered the men to keep an eye on me, and that vampire wouldn’t have attacked me this morning. I’m pretty sure everyone here thinks I’m nothing more than Rahlan’s favorite drink.

Does Rahlan know where Ivan is hiding, or is he just hoping we’ll stumble across him? He didn’t know back when he was threatening the Huntsman by the river, but the way he said that I’ll ‘reunite with my friend’ when we left the city sounded like he was certain.

A row of vampires wait behind Lord Soran. They’re the hunters, standing with their dogs beside them. They caught boars for tonight’s meal back when we passed the river.

“As I have told many of you,” Lord Soran begins, “tomorrow we will descend upon the human stronghold.”

The crowd claps and whistles behind me, excited for the battle, the same battle which will kill more of my countrymen. The vampires will fight for wealth and fame, but the humans will fight for their lives.

Soran scans the crowd. “But apparently tomorrow is too long, you whine to me!” He mimics a child’s voice, earning a laugh from the crowd. “We’re bored, you say! We want to fight, you say!” I hear Rahlan’s deep chuckle behind me.

“Let it not be said that Soran leads a campaign of boredom!” he continues, “Since we shall meet new humans soon, I wager we can afford to lose a few!”

The crowd cheers.

What?

“Bring out tonight’s entertainment!”

Six men reveal themselves from behind the trees, each holding a human woman. Their disgusting hands are locked around the women’s arms. The crowd roars, and my stomach roils. They’ve got Jaclyn.