The silence after the fight was almost deafening.
Kael stood there, panting, feeling the sweat running down his face, mixed with the blood of the men he had killed. His breathing was ragged, but he dared not relax. The dead around him did not mean victory; they only meant delay for the enemies still advancing through the forest.
He wiped his sword once more on the fallen leader's cloth and crouched beside him. He took back the real map, already stained with dried blood, and examined it carefully. The notes were precise: alternate routes, ambush points, rendezvous points between the groups of assassins.
His gaze fixed on "Moon Stream" and the "stone marker with the broken plaque."
"Those points are unavoidable…" he muttered to himself. "They plan to surround the girls there."
