Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 654
"No, not yet." She explained the tactical situation. They
would have to split their force and come at the sheltered
declivity from two sides. "It's open country," she finished.
"There's a good chance of being spotted if they have a sentry
out, so you'll make the pincer at full gallop."
As he slumped toward his men, issuing orders irritably,
the white Wind turned a cartwheel and ran to her own people,
the basts who prowled restlessly at the edge of the camp. They
chattered laughter at her approach. "Little woman-bast," one
called out. "Why are you so happy?"
She stopped and cocked a paw to one ear. "Because I
hear it!" she replied. "I hear it rising all around us."
They nodded. They knew what she meant.
Megan had originally intended to hunt for berries. She
had found a handful or two, but halfway back in her circuit of
the hill above the cave, she had stumbled on a little flat area
screened by bushes. It was invisible from below, but she could
see the whole camp. The temptation was irresistible, and so
she had hunkered down to spy on her man.
You're terrible, she told herself, even as she parted the
bushes to look almost straight down the rock face. She could
hear Armiger and the queen bickering. Galas looked silly in
Megan's dress; it was far too big for her. But she refused to
wear any of the perfectly good clothing they had salvaged from
the razed town. Megan had thought her a tragic figure before.
In the past few days her patience had worn thin, and she was
beginning to think of Galas as merely spoiled.
Megan had dressed herself in some boy's clothes. It was
practical, but unfeminine. Yesterday she hadn't minded that,
but now, watching Armiger and Galas alone, she wondered.
There was nothing overt going on between them, no ardent