They stopped at the tent opening. As before, Mirnían had had his roomy war tent pitched on an escarpment. The tent, on the outside, was a deep blue with golden stars. Two posts rose from it, pointing to heaven, each holding a banner of Vasyllia and Ghavan. The inside of the tent reminded Adelaida more of a room filled with velvet tapestries hung for effect than a spartan war tent. It was one of the few things that Adelaida knew helped Zabían and her sisters retain some semblance of calm amid the storm of war preparation.
Adelaida was grateful that the children were still sleeping on their pallets on the hard ground. It astounded her how quickly children became accustomed to the physical rigors of living on the march. Even children who had been sheltered their entire lives on an island wit
