Spook's: The Dark Army (The Starblade Chronicles) by Joseph Delaney

knowing that the blade had passed right through me. I’d watched my own blood trickling onto the stones. The pain came again – and with it the intense cold and fear of death.
    I felt nauseous and swayed in the saddle, almost falling off into the water. I was weak for almost an hour afterwards.
    Our army marched in six columns; with the exception of Prince Kaylar, each prince rode at the head of his own cavalry, with his foot soldiers bringing up the rear. By far the largest was the central column commanded by Prince Stanislaw. I rode on his left, with Grimalkin on his right. In Prince Kaylar’s place was his eldest son. He was only eighteen and not experienced in war, but Grimalkin told me he had trusted the warriors at his back and advisers at his shoulder.
    He didn’t belong here, and neither did I. I was only seventeen – barely old enough to function as a spook, never mind as the leader of this army. But I was doing my best, riding with my head held high, even though my breathing was laboured and I ached in every joint.
    It was vital that I made this pretence work, otherwise we would not link up with Prince Kaylar’s force and be able to save Jenny.
    I was very anxious about her. Grimalkin had explained that Prince Kaylar’s patrol was small, numbering no more than forty men. If the Kobalos spotted them, they’d soon be overwhelmed and either slain or taken prisoner. If Jenny survived such a battle, she’d end up as a slave in Valkarky. My anger at Grimalkin simmered away at that thought.
    About an hour after midday we reached the area known as the Fittzanda Fissure. I’d been expecting volcanoes, but there was only uneven, stony ground punctuated by crevices and ridges, with vents of scalding steam. The horses whinnied with fear, unwilling to cross them.
    At times the ground shook, and deep rumbles could be heard beneath us, like the muttering of angry giants. The air was filled with dust and the stink of sulphur and I was only too glad to leave the place behind and move onto the Plain of Erestaba.
    This was a flat, cold place with not a tree to be seen. The wind blew towards us from the north, making patterns in the long grass. I kept searching the horizon, hoping to spot our patrol, but also fearing to see a huge Kobalos army. I couldn’t believe that they weren’t already lying in wait for us. They must know that we’d crossed the river and be busy setting a trap? Surely Grimalkin, who knew how dark magic could be used to scry the future, would see the danger? When I mentioned it to her, she just shrugged.
    The sun began to set and we continued until it grew dark. It was a cold night, but we couldn’t build fires – they’d be visible for miles around on such a flat plain. The further we got without being seen, the better; we certainly didn’t want them to guess our true destination.
    The Shaiksa had special powers: you couldn’t kill one without other members of the brotherhood being summoned to avenge his death. The Shaiksa assassin I’d slain at the river would have sent out his dying thoughts to his brother assassins.
    So they might have already worked out that a human army would be coming across the river into Kobalos lands. I just hoped they didn’t know that the kulad called Kartuna, rather than Valkarky, was our objective. I suddenly wondered if the Kobalos mages could scry like witches . . . Perhaps they already knew of our intention?
    I looked around the camp: Grimalkin and I were on the northern edge. No lights were showing, and apart from patrols and guards set to watch for danger, the men were asleep in their tents. Grimalkin and I, wrapped in blankets, sat outside the entrance to our own tent and talked about what lay ahead.
    I was still angry with her – I’d only put my grievances aside with great difficulty – but I needed to work with her and ensure that our attack was a success if I wanted to save Jenny.
    I looked up into the sky. The moon was covered with a cloud, and in