Chapter 29Pandra dashed through the camp, accompanied by the guard who had been posted outside his wagon. The air was cold and damp and, after only a few paces, the dew-sodden grass had soaked his feet and the hem of his robe.
The dull red remains of camp fires, and the guttering efforts of a few torches were all that lit their way, though, to the east, the sky was greying slightly.
The guard, still bewildered by Pandra’s abrupt and explosive emergence from the wagon, was leading the way.
‘There, sir,’ he said, pointing towards a large tent.
Menedrion’s tent, however, needed no identification, for the entrance flap had been thrown back and the Duke’s son was standing there, illuminated by lamplight from within. He was berating two sentries who were making a desperate attempt to rekindl
