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murmured when they’d moved out. They
might as well offer the enemy a free meal.
Aedion shut down that talk, along with any
sort of hissing about their flight and defeat.
By the time they’d camped tonight, a good
third of the soldiers, members of the Bane
included, had been assigned various tasks to
keep them busy. To make them so tired after a
day’s fleeing that they didn’t have the energy
to grumble.
Aedion aimed for his own tent, set just
outside the healers’ ring of tents where
Lysandra lay. Giving her a private tent had
been another privilege he’d used his rank to
acquire.
He’d almost reached the small tent—no
use in building his full war tent when they’d
be running again in a few hours—when he
spotted the figures huddled by the fire outside.
He slowed his steps to a stalking gait.