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“You want me to listen to what the Jatan general has to say, and tell you later if it lines up with what I saw?” Kym asked, voice soft.

Luc nodded, waiting for Rafe to come abreast before moving slowly forward.

He called the general’s name, and heard another whistle.

Eventually, a few riders appeared up ahead. As soon as he sighted them, Luc stopped, waiting for them to come to him.

He was aware of his hidden soldiers on either side of him, camouflaged by the gloom of the forest.

The Jatan moved slowly, nervous of an ambush, Luc guessed, and he sat patiently until they were close enough to speak without shouting.

“General Tuart?”

“That’s me.” Like the Rising Wave, the Jatan didn’t wear uniforms. The Jatan nation was not so much a single country, but more a collection of fiercely independent regions with the same culture and dialect. When they needed to speak as one, they sent representatives from each region to what they called the Gathering.

The old Kassian queen had thought that lack of cohesion would mean less resistance as she tried to claim the mountains that formed the natural border between Kassia and Jatan, with their mines and their trade routes, for herself.

She had been wrong.

The Kassian offensive had poked the beast, and brought the regions together like nothing ever had.

But their individuality and their dislike of conformity meant uniforms were not favored.

The Rising Wave had never had the funds for a uniform, but Luc didn’t think they would adopt one, even now they had access to Kassia’s coffers.

The Jatan soldier who rode forward to speak was older, his clothing was well-made and of high quality. It made it likely he was a general. Or at least a senior officer.

“I would like to know what you’re doing in my territory, General Tuart.”

Luc could see his question had thrown Tuart. Whatever he was expecting, this was not it.

“Who are you? And how do you know my name?”

“I am the commander of the Rising Wave and now all of Kassia, Luc Franck.”

There was a beat a silence.

“You won the war.” The general’s face flickered with surprise.

“We did.”

“We were not sure who the victor would be, and given the Kassian army abandoned its position on our border, we decided to make a short incursion.” The general sounded as if he had to think hard about each word he spoke.

“I have a letter here from the new queen of Kassia, Ava Valestri, for your own leaders.” Luc tapped the side of his cloak.

“The new queen?” Tuart sounded incredulous. “Who is she?”

“She is the niece of the old queen, and my ally.”

And so much more.

But that was none of the Jatan’s business.

“Again, how did you know my name? How did you know where to find me to give this missive to me?” Tuart was finally over his initial shock.

Luc leaned forward. “We caught some of your soldiers raiding a small village to the south west of here. It was their second attack of the day, and my understanding is you were present for the first attack. Two civilians were murdered in that raid and their town hall was burned down. We imprisoned them and they led us to you. It was the price of their freedom.”

General Tuart didn’t just look surprised, now. He looked surprised and angry. “Where are these soldiers now?”