The sun rose before Abi could do more than lay down on her bedroll, and try to quiet her racing mind. She watched the stars fade from the sky, and listened to the bustle of the mercenaries as they swapped shifts.

It didn’t help that tree roots were still embedded in the earth, even though the saplings had been cut down. They poked and prodded at her no matter how she lay, and were a reminder she had done nothing to stop the destruction the day before. She had just stepped aside and pretended it wasn’t happening.

At least she had been able to take the time to scatter the remains among the trees, so they could return to the earth as they decomposed, and not lay in a rotting pile at the edge of the camp. The other two villagers from Hulna had briefly helped, but didn’t seem to find it as important as she did.

Lyssa was sat, perched on a log in front of the fire and hadn’t taken her eyes off the unconscious assassin. The warrior absently stroked the hilt of her sword, her fingers tracing the patterns in the metal, while the rest of her remained deadly still.

Abi was reminded strongly of the dogs who helped her father herd the sheep. They had an intense focus that could easily turn to obsession and end in an attack. Last night was the first time Abi had seen Lyssa as a warrior, even though she had watched her fight before it had been for the protection of other people, this time she had lost herself.

It was easier to see why Vat and Shira were so wary of her. They had given Abi a warning and offered to take her with them if she wanted to leave Ghanda. She had turned the offer down, but now she was starting to have doubts.

What if she had judged Lyssa wrong? They would know better than she did what the warrior was capable of, and they seemed to think she had an ulterior motive. There was no other reason they could think of for her travelling through Ghanda. All the usual warrior reasons of gold, fame and glory were out. There was no high position to be gained, and keeping Hulna safe was more risk than reward.

Last night the challenge of the fight had been more important than protecting people, and now Lyssa was like a wolf waiting to pounce. Abi actually feared for the assassin when he woke up.

She gave up on trying to sleep while the sky was still pink from the rising sun. The few mercenaries who had been relieved of watch duty, and who had been lying on their bedrolls, also gave up on sleep.

The injured man she had tended to the night before wasn’t looking good. Blood seeped from Rolond’s head wound and his eyes wouldn’t focus, while food and water refused to stay in his stomach. This was beyond her skill to heal. She wasn’t even sure if there was anything that could be done, but an actual healer would be able to take care of him better.

An eruption of noise had her turning to look at the centre of the camp.

The assassin was awake but sitting on the ground still tied hand and foot. Lyssa loomed over him, decked out in all her weapons, while Vat stood ready to defend the prisoner. His long blond hair untidy as it came loose from the braid at his back. His usually neat clothes weren’t doing much better.

The other villagers stood behind Lyssa shouting their demands that the prisoner be punished, and the gathered mercenaries looked like they were getting ready for a fight.

She spotted Shira ushering Rithrin into the wagon and setting guards. He scowled as he lent back against the side and crossed his arms over his chest, seemingly content to watch the conflict.

Abi approached the stand off, but stayed off to the side in case weapons were drawn.

“We need to get Rolond back to Hulna.” She said, refusing to be cowed by the glares sent her way. “There’s not much more I can do. He needs a healer.”

Vat nodded. “It might be best to turn back now. Scouts are reporting increasing activity.” Vat looked at Abi. “There has to be another way to get healing supplies out to those villages.”

“We need information if we are to survive the next attack and he has it.” Lyssa pointed the dagger she held at the prisoner. “Leave him with me.”

The mercenaries stiffened in a creak of leather and rattle of metal, but with no sign from Vat their swords remained sheathed.

“No.” Vat said. “We’ll take him back to Hulna and he can face justice and interrogation there. This is not the place for that.”

“We’ll never make it back.” Lyssa said. “I was wrong. We've already entered the trap.”

“There's still a chance to break free—”

“I’m not talking about the gorge.” Lyssa cut him off in irritation. “Ghanda is the trap. There’s something very strange going on here, and retreating will do nothing.”

“Except save lives.” Vat shouted back. His eyes almost as wild as his hair. “It may not be what you care about but I’m not leading my people unnecessarily into battle.”

“You don’t have a choice.” Lyssa shouted.

Vat stood firm against her and rested his hand on his sword.

“She’s not threatening you.” Abi said, abruptly stepping up to Lyssa’s side.

“Of course not. Why—”

“Shh.” Abi patted Lyssa on the arm and moved in front of her.

Vat looked like he couldn’t decide if he should continue to glare at Lyssa, or smile down at Abi.

“There is something strange going on, and this can’t just be that they want what’s in the wagon.”

“I know that.” Vat said patiently. “But we’re in a dangerous position, and Hulna is more easily defended.”

“But we won’t get there, will we?” Abi waited for Vat’s reply but only a sigh came. “So we need a new plan?” She smiled at him, willing him to be reasonable.

“Yes, we need a new plan.” Vat spoke to Abi, but he glared at Lyssa.

Abi spun around to look up at the warrior, suddenly realising the other woman was still holding a dagger and ready for a fight.

“We’re trying to avoid battle, not win one.” Abi said, locking eyes with Lyssa and refusing to look away. Her only thought please don’t prove me wrong.

Lyssa nodded and her lips almost twitched into a smile. Her gaze moved to Vat, and then to the prisoner sitting on the ground and smirking at them.

The man wasn’t even wearing armor, that was how confident he had been that he wouldn’t get caught, just a dark tunic over his white skin and thin black leggings.

Vat crouched down in front of him. “Why were you sent to kill the trader?”

“You’ll never leave here alive.” The prisoner said, his accent placing him outside Ghanda or Cahan.

“So it doesn’t matter if we kill you then.” Lyssa said, spinning the dagger in her hand.

“I would gladly die. I don’t fear death.” He spat on the ground.

“Definitely not a bandit.” Vat stood up.

“The only people who act like that are thralls.” Lyssa said. “Or someone who wants to become one.”

“A god’s thrall?” Abi asked.

She’d heard about them but only as a myth. They were meant to have the power of a god, and had most likely done awful things to get that power. There were many stories in the old library at Hulna warning of the evil of humans attaining the magic of the gods. Of how to become a god you had to lose your humanity and bathe in the blood of children, but looking at this thrall he had an obvious concussion, and was fidgeting as he lost feeling in his limbs where he was tied.

“They don’t care about dying because they’ve already given their life to a god. You find them in religious sects, not doing the bidding of bandits.” Lyssa said. The disgust she felt contorting her face into a sneer.

Abi wasn’t sure if the warrior was disgusted with thralls, or the fact that he was playing bandit.

A mercenary running into the camp disturbed the silence. She ran up to Shira and whispered to him. His face tightened and he stood up straight. She took his place guarding the wagon as he approached them.

“Bandits are gathering where the forest meets the fields. They’re not organised yet but more are coming. There have already been some skirmishes with our men.”

“We shouldn’t discuss this in front of the prisoner.” Lyssa said, interrupting Vat. “If he is a thrall the god can hear and see through his senses.”

“I thought that was a rumour.” Vat said.

“No, it isn’t.” Lyssa said. “He should be blindfolded from now on and his ears plugged.”

Vat turned to a mercenary. “Pack up the camp and prepare for an attack.” The mercenary ran off to do his bidding.

“Can you convince the trader to give up the wagon?” Lyssa asked.

“She won’t do that.” Vat shook his head.

“Even if it means saving lives?” Lyssa asked. “Your people will be safe and you’ll take Abi with you.”

“Wait. What will you be doing?” Abi asked.

Vat nodded “Agreed.” They both continued to discuss the plan as they walked away from the prisoner.

Abi tried to follow but Shira grabbed her arm.

“I need you to help me with the wounded and get them ready for travel.”

“But…” Abi gave in, unable to refuse helping injured people.

Lyssa was about to put herself in danger to save them, and she wasn’t going to stand by and let the warrior sacrifice herself. Not alone anyway.