„No, Sire."
Bragi stared into the canyon. Assume Michael had gotten the word through Aral's smugglers. That meant it had been hand-carried across the mountains along rugged game trails. At least a week in transit. Meaning Hsung had been rolling at least that long.
„Gjerdrum. Send a recon party down to that checkpoint. See how they react."
Sir Gjerdrum looked worried. „You want me to engage them, Sire?"
„Yes. Push them good. I want to see what happens."
Gjerdrum looked at him askance.
„Go on. I want to know before dark."
„Yes, Sire." Gjerdrum's voice was taut. And Baron Hardle had gotten an odd look.
Bragi said, „Not to worry. Border skirmishes happen all the time. Nobody gets excited about them."
„We're supposed to have a deal with Lord Hsung," Hardle said.
„Supposed to have. He didn't live up to it. He's impris oned five hundred of our people. So we should feel guilty?"
Hardle kept looking at him strangely. Irritated, he went down to his quarters. He tried to eat, to nap, and could do neither. His nerves were aflame. He prowled restlessly.
Gjerdrum returned. „The post was abandoned," he said. „They were down there four days ago. I sent scouts on down the canyon."
„Good. What do you think?"
„About what?"
„The situation."
„I don't want to think about it. I get bad feelings."
„Suppose we moved up again? Just enough to rattle Hsung."
„I don't think you can shake him. He doesn't care what you do."
„No. I think he decided I was bluffing. If we went down and occupied Gog-Ahlan... ."
„He's committed, Sire. He's Tervola. He isn't going to back down. Not from us."
„You're probably right. Should just pack up and go home. But damnit, the man makes me mad. I'd like to give him a good kick in the ass."
„You don't want him down on us."
„No? He's already as down on us as anybody can be."
Michael's next report said Hsung's move had inspired more guerrilla activity than even the Disciple's command ers had hoped. Yasmid's troops, too, were fighting more stubbornly than expected.
Bragi wondered, „How long before Megelin starts mov ing? That's when Yasmid will have real problems. She'll be hopping like a one-legged fireman. Gjerdrum, keep moving down the pass. Don't stop till somebody gets in your way."
„Yes, Sire." Gjerdrum looked sour.
„Caught between the Tervola and Magden Norath," Bragi mused. „I don't envy her."
The pass proved to be clear all the way to Gog-Ahlan.
Michael sent another message. Hsung was stalled. His Throyen puppets had suffered severe losses. Throyes itself was in flames. Hsung had had to move his headquarters out of the city. He had called for reinforcements from his legions at Necremnos and Argon.
„That does it," Bragi said. He assembled his captains. „We can tip the balance. We're going ahead. Into Throyes."
The arguing grew loud and bitter. Ragnarson ended the debate, at last, by thundering, „I'm not asking. I'm telling you what we're going to do. Just like the raid on Argon at the beginning of the Great Eastern Wars. We're marching. First light tomorrow. And I'll have the head of any man who sends word back to Vorgreberg. Understood?"
The meeting broke up in anger and disaffection. Bragi watched his captains nervously. Would they stick it out? They'd better.
Hsung was going to be one surprised son of a bitch.
21
Year 1016 AFE
Dahl double-checked his document case, made sure his gear was secure, swung into the saddle. There was a lot he wanted to say, but he wasn't good with people. He just said, „Good-bye, Colonel. Thanks for everything."
„Godspeed, son. Tell your King we'll try to break it up at this end."
„Right." Dahl urged his mount into the street. Dawn hadn't yet broken. He had Kristen in his eyes. He was in a hurry to get home.
Home? he thought. I always thought of the stead as home. The old saw was right.
Introspective, wondering what would become of himself and Kristen, he wasn't alert. It wasn't till he had begun riding through farmland south of the Silverbind that he suddenly realized the three men behind him had been there for some time. He increased his pace. They did the same.
He was in trouble.
What to do? He couldn't fight. Could he outrun them? Not likely. They were travelling light. His mount was loaded for a long journey. Lose them somehow? How? This was open country. It was a good fifteen miles before the road entered wooded ground... . They didn't seem eager to catch up, though. Why rush it? If they were just following him, let them. He could outlast them. His horse was a tireless beast. His own stamina was superb. He could keep on till they couldn't stay with him anymore.
Good thinking. It would have worked, too, had they not been herding him toward confederates waiting in the woods.
The trap closed neatly. Dahl found himself surrounded by tough-looking men. Their captain was Josiah Gales.
They looked at one another. Dahl knew there was no lie he could tell that would explain his presence. Gales knew exactly what he was doing, just as he knew about Gales. He sighed. „What now, Colonel?"
„You come see a man who wants to talk to you."
Haas shook his head, smiled weakly. „Nine women in one day," he said.
Gales scowled. „Not here, Haas. That game is over." He wheeled his mount. The others followed, Dahl tucked neatly in amongst them.
Got to get rid of those dispatches, he thought. Can't let them get hold of those. He racked his brain. Nothing came to him. No opportunity arose. His escort remained close and watchful.
They took him to a small hunting lodge. Gales politely asked him to accompany him inside. Dahl decided to make no fuss over his possessions. They might decide to dig through them.
They would be expecting him to be carrying something, of course. Maybe they could be distracted with the smaller courier's case strapped to his side.
He studied the lodge as he moved through it. It hadn't been designed as a fortress or prison. Get out of sight of his captors for a few minutes and he could be gone.
Gales took him to a bone-thin old man eating pheasant in a small, comfortable room off the kitchen. „Sir Mortin, this is Captain Dahl Haas. Dahl, Sir Mortin."
Dahl knew the name. He had learned a lot about the Greyfells family during his stay. „Good morning, sir. Why have your men waylaid me?"
Mortin smiled. „You might ask that, young fellow, but why bother? You know perfectly well why, and you know I know. Let's not bluff each other. Sit down." He indicated the chair opposite him by pointing with his knife. „Reeves. Bring another setting for our guest."
Dahl decided to cooperate for now, to disarm them with his amenability. „Thank you, sir. And, sir, I really don't see why your men have waylaid me."
„Young man! Do you take me for a fool? Because you're carrying information to Kavelin."
„Nothing the King doesn't already know. Stopping me is meaningless. I'm just going home. The important informa tion went south by courier the day Gales arrived in Itaskia. He was recognized by people from the Ministry."
Mortin looked up at Gales. „Josiah?"
„He could be right, sir. That's the sensible thing to have done."
„Yes indeed. Yes indeed. Young fellow, you present me with a quandary."
„Sir?"
„Evidently we shouldn't have bothered intercepting you. But we have. So what do we do with you? Go ahead. Eat. It's a fine bird. It'll just go to waste. Let's see, then. Assuming that courier did go out, you're no longer of any significance. No use to us, and of insufficient value to our enemies to make it worth killing you. Yet the idea of just turning you loose again grates. Josiah? Do you have a suggestion?"