Paper

"We can't talk much longer. If we're caught together it could mean disaster." Roland glanced around them. Just because they hadn't been seen yet didn't mean they wouldn't be.

"You're right. I need to get this message back to my superiors... what's it written on the back of?" Riley squinted. The writing on the back did not at all match the front.

"It's on the back of one of the Provider's messages to Rhone. It will prove he's a traitor. I didn't sign anything; please don't let anything be traced back to me; there are other spies in the city that might report to Rhone. Halflings that look like children, but the Provider is in the biggest position of power. Please wait at least an hour before you go back into the camp so I can be sure we are gone and no one sees you with that." Roland squeezed Riley's arm.

"Tell my family I love them. To the best of my ability, I won't let anyone get hurt. Tell Serafina..." He paused.

"I gave her all the letters you wrote, before. Is there anything beyond what's in there that needs to be said?" Riley didn't want to be responsible for a verbal expression of any feelings between them, even if the man did save his life and was working to save his family.

"Tell her to reread them. I still mean every word." Roland decided. A simple enough message, and not too awkward for Riley to deliver.

"I'll do that, Roland. If you get a chance, tell my mother I'm all right. I love her." The two men grasped each other's shoulders briefly.

"It is unbelievably good to talk to someone who calls me Roland. Helps me remember who I am." He gave Riley a lopsided smile.

Riley tilted his head at the perplexing statement. "And who are you, Roland?"

Roland just smiled, clapped him softly on the shoulder, and prepared to sneak out of their hiding place without answering. "Oh, I'll have to inform them about the new stationary sentries. If I come back with no information it would be suspicious."

"Understood," Riley nodded. It bothered him a little to have that information in the enemy's hands, but it's likely they would have discovered it anyway during extended observations.

With a final grin, Roland left the hiding place and moved closer to the camp. Near the edge, he swiftly climbed a tree to have a good vantage point. If any of the Rhone were carefully looking for him, they would see he was following orders.

He watched the soldiers in the camp with intense nostalgia for his brief time among them. There was no deception, only exhaustion and training. The fear of war was less keen back then, and his part in the conflict much less prominent.

He saw Peter practicing sparring with another soldier. Roland smiled. The boy had improved his skills, though he had already been miles better than most of the other recruits, Roland included. The practiced ease with which he wielded his blade had been honed further to include several sets of moves Roland didn't recognize. Perhaps Riley had been training him.

Roland briefly wondered how he and Peter would match up now, sword versus spear. Roland's skills were nothing to scoff at anymore. He imagined he would be able to hold his own against the boy. Riley, however, was still far beyond his capabilities as an opponent. Roland's few weeks of intensive training under his father couldn't compare to Riley's years of tutelage under his own.

As refreshing as it was to his soul to see familiar faces, it also caused him to ache with longing. With the army, he might have been able to get letters from Finn, or even occasionally be assigned as a messenger to go Klain and be able to see her in person.

To be among real friends, experience true companionship, and not have to constantly worry that he was about to be murdered by a cold-hearted merciless monarch who also happened to be his grandmother... it sounded heavenly. The time passed in simple contemplation of these things, and nothing of particular note to him happened in the camp.

The appointed hour came for him to leave, and he carefully climbed down from his hiding place and slipped back into the forest, wishing more than anything that he could just stay behind. The long game dictated that he maintain his place amongst the Rhone and influence them as he could, taking care of the captives until they could be freed.

He wanted to get back to Klain so badly, but if he were honest, the best interests of his city weren't the only thing holding him back.

The bonding with his father while training was touching something deep within him. One of them would bend to the other's desires eventually. Since Roland didn't even truly know what Duncan really wanted, he hoped he would not be the one to compromise.

He wanted his compassion for the people of Klain to permeate the culture. If he could soften his father toward them, that would trickle outward. Roland was sure he could negotiate some kind of peace between the nations if given the chance. Surely whatever it was that Rhone truly needed, it could be retrieved without razing the city to the ground.

Getting the captives better care was a start down that road. Perhaps Roland was too optimistic. Titania, he could tell, had no intention of ever softening her goals. She had laid that before him quite clearly. She would kill everything and everyone she couldn't rule.

Roland reached the appointed meeting place, and waited there until all the Rhone had gathered. Duncan gestured to them silently and they ran quietly until they were a good distance away from the camp. He slowed their pace and then began asking for reports.

"Derek? Tell me what you saw." Roland wondered if he was asked first so that he couldn't merely corroborate what others had seen. He would have to offer his own insight or be seen as either incompetent or disloyal.

"The setup of the camp is much as it always has been. The mobile sentries are spaced slightly closer than before for a more robust perimeter, however," He paused as Duncan was making a slightly disappointed face, "there are new, hidden guards at the weaker points. Any attack would need to take them out as well to prevent the guard from sounding. Otherwise, their habits seem relatively unchanged."

Duncan nodded, seemingly satisfied with the report, and Roland was relieved. By noting the lack of change in Klain's habits, he did not give them any unnecessary information, but worked off of the assumption that the Rhone already knew everything they should.

Apparently the Rhone also assumed they already knew everything they needed to. The others shared their insights, nothing too groundbreaking, and all headed back to the Rhone camp.

Roland realized that, although the Rhone gave the appearance of being incredibly swift with their ability to disappear into the Darkness, they were far less mobile than Klain. With no collection of horses, their camps were relatively stationary for a nomadic people.

Their soldiers ran everywhere they needed to go. The wolves were used as the primary attack force due to their speed and relative dispensability. Rhone would be at an extreme disadvantage in open combat, and he wondered if the long spears were an attempt to close that gap.

"Why doesn't Rhone use horses?" He panted at Duncan as the two continued their run.

Running had been a large part of Roland's training, but he still felt out of breath when driven like this.

"We have only a handful we took from conquered villages, and rarely employ them. We tried to make use of them a few times in the past, but they will not tolerate the Darkness. They are violently opposed to entering it and will do anything at all to keep from being brought in. Even with their faces covered, they will not go. They impede our ability to make use of our most efficient escape route."

Duncan did not look at Roland for more than a passing glance as he spoke. He didn't add that he thought the use of horses made people lazy and dependent. A good runner could make it further than a horse even if the speed wasn't the same in short bursts.

They ran in silence after that, the sound of their breathing and footsteps creating a steady rhythm through the trees. By the time they came back to camp, all except Duncan were out of breath and in need of rest. Roland marveled. Truly his father stood alone in his endurance.

The older man broke off from the others to give his report to Titania, while Roland went to go rinse off his sweat in the nearby stream. Though the days were beginning to cool, he was still overheated and in desperate need to cool down.

If he were lucky, he would be alone and able to check if Gabe had found the little store of supplies Roland had tucked into the Darkness.