The set of rooms I’d been given had apparently been decorated with similar taste to mine in mind. The furniture was mostly heavy oak with a dark stain and delicate carvings of plants and flowers to accent the edges. A large round rug took up the center of the open floor and was covered with the same eight-pointed star bound by a circle that graced the base of my sword’s pommel this time in blue lines on a white background. A cushioned reading chair sat facing out the window beside a table set with a silver tray containing two pitchers and a set of cups. I lifted up the cloth covering the pitchers and sniffed the contents- warmed cider and mulled wine. A door to one side revealed a bedroom with a massive bed large enough to sleep a small squad of knights, wearing armor, with room to spare. There was also a writing desk and another set of reading chairs bracketing a table set with a similar silver tray. I waved to the woman letting her know that the room was suitable and waited till she had closed the door to latch it and placed my hand against the heavy wood drawing a simple ward on it in energy. It would wake me up if anyone came through the door, I would have preferred something stronger but I didn’t have the energy to spare.

  I settled my weight into the chair by the window and looked out towards the setting sun, I could see in the distance where Arianrhod’s men were still picking through the battlefield from earlier, sorting out wounded from dead. It was an interesting and significant difference between the conflicts of mankind and the near immortal. Humans would leave the enemy wounded to see to themselves while we would often retrieve them and see to them. Likely she would negotiate with whatever tribe they came from to secure some sort of concessions but until then she would treat them like guests as long as they didn’t try to leave and behaved. If they abused her hospitality, she’d simply deliver them home in small packages.

  I sighed and poured a cup of mulled wine slowly nursing it as I felt Khan’s presence move into the bedroom. I had made a mistake out there. I’d let my emotions get the better of me and declared myself. Despite the risk, I’d painted a target on my back. Worse I’d practically placed a death sentence on the people I cared about in the process. Melisande could handle herself. The Council couldn’t make a move against any member of the pantheons without risking war which therefor afforded Cassandra protection. And Synbel could probably do more damage to them than they could to him. My concern was if they tried to get to me through the other people I cared about, there were normal people in my life that had no active protection from them, no way of knowing they even needed protection from them, or that they would be in danger.

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  I was the only person that would ever lay claim to being the head of the First Tactical Battalion, and that’s what made it so easy for them to identify me from a single statement. The First Tactical Battalion had initially started out as a small group of individuals I’d found and helped master their more problematic impulses that had sworn to serve under me. Before I had realized it the handful of people I’d helped had eventually expanded well beyond what the name ‘battalion’ implied and numbered almost four thousand men and women. The first tactical represented the most skilled individuals when it came to any of the aspects of war on and off the battlefield and had a suitably feared reputation among anyone that had heard the name. It didn’t matter if it was espionage, assassination, strategy, or simple combat. They had trained and refined their skills and crafts over lifetimes and had a single-minded dedication to constantly improve them that bordered on obsessive. Despite Synbel’s reassurances, I wasn’t confident that they would be willing to follow me if I asked. After all, I had ordered all of them into a death trap knowingly even if I’d only recently regained those memories.

  I drained the last drops of my wine and sat saying a quiet prayer to whatever higher power would listen that I could make it through the next few days alive and to keep the people I cared for safe even if they didn’t care for me. Finally, I stood and moved to the bedroom. Khan was already draped across one side of the bed, his breathing had settled into the slow steady rhythm of sleep. I pulled out my sword and laid it across the nightstand before I stripped off my armor and began hiding weapons around the room carefully making sure each one would be easy to pull out if needed. I doubted there would be a need to wake up and defend myself and attacking my in Caer Sidi would reflect badly on my hostess, and obligate Arianrhod to kill whoever did try assassinating me. Of course quite a few people would consider their life a fair trade for assassinating me so it was best not to count on other people for protection. My last act before laying down was to bolt the bedroom door and place a duplicate of the ward I’d used on the outer door.