The fight outside was already winding down. We lost two men. The remnant group lost nine. The rest fled into the rocks. We burned the tents, loaded the horses with their supplies, and took every scrap of paper and map we could find.
The ride back was quieter than the ride out. My arm stung where a blade had grazed it. My cloak was stiff with other men's blood. But the bond between the four of us felt solid, the kind of strength that comes after you bleed together and still come home.
We reached the gates as the sun dropped behind the western ridge. Garrick met us in the bailey, his face grim as he saw the blood on my cloak. The pack gathered quickly, eyes on the maps we carried.
I stood in the center of the bailey and unrolled the largest map. "We have their main camp location," I said. "Vespera is there with her two mates and the bulk of their force. We hit them before they can regroup."
