"Twenty men, twelve men, we've no idea of the goddamn route or it's going to be the main road. We're running around like total idiots," Blackthorne stormed.

"It's a fairly small number, I could try to arrange ambushes along a couple of routes and hope for the best," Ian responded.

"Or you could put a fucking man with a scouting glass up on a fucking mountain top and see who's telling the truth."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Morons."

"We've received word they're training more women, Lord."

"Of course they are. Fucking amazons, the lot of them. Are you going to piss your pants, Ian?"

"Nay, Lord."

"Good."

"Hopefully," Ailene said, "when...