"He is a human being!" Remus shouted. "Norvin! He looks up to us! I promised... I promised I would keep him safe!"
"Your promises are your own burden, not the army's. The boy is gone. He is fertilizer for the roots now. Accept it, wash your hands, and prepare the men for a defensive holding pattern. We march south in two days to regroup with the main battalion."
Remus stood trembling, his face a mask of pure agony. He looked at Mat, pleading silently for support.
Mat stepped forward, swallowing the lump of fear in his throat. "Lord Captain... perhaps... perhaps a small scouting party? Just to confirm? If the boy is captured, he might reveal our troop numbers. Retrieving him or silencing him might be a tactical necessity."
Mat tried to appeal to Thane's cold logic, hoping it would work where Remus's emotion had failed.
Thane looked at Mat, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Smart, Mat. You try to dress up your sentimentality as strategy. But no. The Marsh is shifting. The metamorphosis is accelerating. Sending more men in there is throwing good coin after bad. No one enters the forest tonight. That is a direct order."
Thane turned his back on them again, signaling the conversation was over.
Remus stared at the Captain's back, his chest heaving.
"Sir Remus," the Chief whispered, gripping the knight's shoulder. "Come. Let's go."
Remus jerked away from the Chief. He looked at Thane one last time, a look of utter hatred, and then turned on his heel and stormed out of the tent, throwing the flap open so hard it nearly tore from its hinges.
Mat looked at Thane, gave a stiff, hasty salute, and ran after his mentor.
He found Remus marching not toward the barracks, but toward the stables, veering sharply toward his personal tent at the edge of the perimeter.
"Sir Remus! Wait!" Mat called out, his boots sliding in the mud.
Remus didn't stop. He ducked into his tent. Mat followed him inside.
It was a modest space, smelling of wet wool and sword oil. Remus was moving with frantic energy. He had grabbed his travel pack and was shoving supplies into it—dried rations, bandages, a coil of rope, and two flasks of oil.
"Sir Remus, what are you doing?" Mat asked, though the sinking feeling in his stomach told him he already knew the answer.
Remus didn't look up. He was buckling his greaves, his fingers fumbling with the leather straps. "I'm going to get him, Mat. I'm going to find the boy."
"You can't," Mat hissed, closing the tent flap and lowering his voice. "Did you not hear him? He gave a direct order. No one enters the forest. If you leave this camp, it's desertion. It's treason, Sir Remus! Captain Thane will have your head on a spike before the sun rises!"
"Let him try!" Remus snapped, standing up and grabbing his heavy claymore. He finally looked at Mat, and his eyes were red-rimmed and wild. "I have served this kingdom for forty years. I have bled for the Roric flag. I have killed for it. But I will not let a child die alone in the dark because that... that monster thinks it's inconvenient to save him!"
Mat stepped in front of the tent exit, blocking the way. "You cannot defy him. Think about this. Think about your rank. Think about your life! Your vessel is broken. Awen doesn't choose you anymore. Your essence will run dry if you go now."
"My life?" Remus laughed, a broken, hollow sound. "My life ended the moment I let that boy walk into the woods. Do you remember, Mat? Do you remember when you were a recruit? When you were just a terrified boy?"
Mat froze.
"You were older than Norvin," Remus said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Yet, you froze during the skirmish at Black ridge. A rockmen had you dead to rights. I stepped in. I took that blow for you. I took that scar on my shoulder for you. Why? Because you were my responsibility. Because that is what a knight does, he steps in!"
Mat replied with a shy gaze, "That's because it was my first time seeing a rockmen."
Remus stepped closer, gripping Mat's shoulders. "Norvin is our responsibility, Mat. We sent him there. You and I. We pointed him to the slaughter house. If I don't go... I am not a knight. I am just a murderer in armour."
Mat looked into the eyes of the man who had been a father to him. He saw the desperation, the unwavering code of honour that the Serpent's Maw had tried so hard to crush.
Mat's resolve crumbled. He stepped aside, moving away from the tent flap.
"The sentries rotate in ten minutes," Mat said softly, looking at the ground. "The East Gate is guarded by Jorek and Silas. They are loyal to you. If you go now... and if you stay low... they won't see you."
Remus paused, his expression softening. He reached out and squeezed Mat's shoulder. "Thank you."
"I... I didn't see you leave," Mat stammered, his voice trembling. "I came to your tent to calm you down. We drank ale. You fell asleep."
Remus chuckled. He pulled his hood up, shadowing his face. "If I find him... I won't be coming back to the camp, Mat. I'll take him to the border. I'll retire. I'm done with the Serpent's Maw."
"I know," Mat whispered.
Remus turned to leave, his hand on the tent flap.
BOOM.
A sound like the cracking of the world tore through the night.
The ground beneath their feet shook violently, knocking a lantern off Remus's table. It wasn't thunder. It was a sharp, metallic explosion that resonated from the depths of the Marsh Forest—miles away, yet loud enough to rattle their teeth.
Remus froze, his head snapping toward the sound. "That wasn't thunder."
"No," Mat breathed, his eyes wide. "That sounded like... impact."
"That was Awen," Remus said, his voice turning deadly serious. "I can feel the residue even from here. High-level Awen. Someone is fighting out there. Someone powerful."
"The enemy?" Mat asked.
"Or Norvin," Remus said, though they both knew Norvin had no awen. "Or whatever is hunting him. I have to go. Now!"
"Go!" Mat urged. "The explosion will distract the guards. Go now!"
Remus didn't waste another second. He slipped out into the rain and vanished into the darkness, sprinting toward the tree line with a speed that defied his heavy armour.
Mat stood alone in the tent for a long time, listening to the rain and the distant shouts of confused soldiers wondering about the explosion. He took a deep breath, composed his face into a mask of neutral concern, and stepped back out into the storm.
The walk back to the Captain's tent felt like a march to the gallows. Mat rehearsed the lie in his head over and over. 'Sir Remus is angry. He is drunk. He is sleeping it off. I confiscated his sword.'
He reached the command tent. The guards were looking toward the forest, whispering about the explosion, but they snapped to attention as Mat approached.
"I need to speak to the Captain," Mat said, his voice steady.
He entered the tent.
Thane Caldron was sitting in a high-backed leather chair, his legs crossed, reading a small, leather-bound book. The wine glass was empty. The atmosphere in the tent was calm, disturbingly silent compared to the commotion outside.
"Lord Captain," Mat said, bowing low. "I have returned."
Thane didn't look up from his book. "And?"
"Sir Remus... he is..." Mat paused, licking his dry lips. "He is inconsolable, sir. He was shouting treasonous things. I managed to calm him down. I gave him a sleeping draught from the medic's supply. He is unconscious in his tent. I have placed a guard outside to ensure he does not do anything rash when he wakes."
Mat waited. His heart was hammering so hard he was sure Thane could hear it.
Thane turned a page of his book. The sound of the paper was loud in the silence.
"A sleeping draught," Thane repeated flatly.
"Yes, my Lord."
"And Jorek and Silas? The guards at the East Gate? Did you give them sleeping draughts as well? Or did they simply decide to look the other way at the exact moment a heavy-armoured knight sprinted past them toward the tree line?"
Mat's blood ran cold. He stopped breathing.
Thane finally looked up. His eyes were bored, heavy-lidded.
"Do not insult my intelligence, Mat. I am your Captain. Do you think a metallic explosion occurs three miles away and I do not feel the vibrations? Do you think I do not hear the frantic heartbeat of a lieutenant lying to my face?"