“What is it?” their Dark Knight escort demanded.
“I’m concerned about my dragon,” Gerard said. “Razor belongs to the Marshal. They’ve been comrades for years. It would mean my head if anything happened to the beast.” He turned back to face the Knight. “I’d like to go check on the dragon, let Razor know what’s going on.”
“My orders are to take you to Mina,” said the Knight.
“You don’t have to come,” said Gerard shortly. “Look, you don’t seem to understand. Razor must have heard the horn calls. He’s a blue. You know how blues are. They can smell battle. He probably thinks that the cursed Solamnics have turned out the city to search for him. If he feels threatened, he might mistakenly attack your army—”
“My orders are to take you to Mina,” the Knight repeated with dullwitted stubborness. “When you have reported to her, you can return to the dragon. You need not be concerned about the beast. He will not attack us. Mina wouldn’t let him. As to his wounds, Mina will heal him, and you both will be able to return to Qualinesti.”
The Knight rode on, heading for the main body of the army-Gerard muttered imprecations at the Knight from the safety of the helm, but he had no choice except to ride after him.
“I’m sorry,” he said under cover of the horse’s hoofbeats, “thought sure he’d fall for it. He gets rid of us, gets out of patrol duty, does what he wants for an hour or two, then reports back.” Gerard shook his head. “Just my luck that I have to run into the only reliable Dark Knight who ever lived.”
“You tried,” said Odila and by twisting her hands, she managed to give him a pat on his knee. “You did the best you could.”
Their guide rode on ahead, eager to do his duty. Annoyed that they weren’t moving faster, he gestured with his arm for them to hasten their pace. Gerard ignored the Knight. He was thinking about what the minotaur had said, about the Dark Knights laying siege to Solanthus. If that was the case, he might well be riding into an army of ten thousand or more.
“What did you mean when you said I hated men?” Odila asked. Jolted out of his thoughts, Gerard had no idea what she was talking about, and he said so.
“You said that you despised women and that I hated men. What did you mean?”
“When did I say that?”
“When we were talking about what to call you. You said that both of us feared life more than we did death.”
Gerard felt his skin burn and was glad he was wearing the helm to cover his face. “I don’t remember. Sometimes I say things without thinking—”
“I had the feeling you’d been thinking about this for a long time,” Odila interrupted.
“Yes, well, maybe.” Gerard was uncomfortable. He hadn’t meant to lay himself wide open, and he certainly didn’t want to talk to her about what was inside. “Don’t you have other things to worry about?” he demanded irritably.
“Like having red-hot needles jabbed beneath my fingernails?” she asked coolly. “Or my joints dislocated on the rack? I have plenty to worry about. I’d rather talk about this.”
Gerard fell silent a moment, then he said, awkwardly, “I’m not sure what I meant. Maybe it’s just the fact that you don’t seem to have much use for men. Not just me. That’s understandable. But I saw how you reacted to the other Knights during the council meeting and to the warden and—”
“How do I react?” she demanded, shifting in the saddle to look back at him. “What’s the matter with the way I react?”
“Don’t turn around!” Gerard snapped. “You’re my prisoner, remember? We’re not supposed to be having a cozy chat.”
She sniffed. “For your information, I adore men. I just happen to think they’re all cheats and scoundrels and liars. Part of their charm.”
Gerard opened his mouth to reply to this when the Knight escort dashed back toward them at a gallop.
“Blast!” Gerard muttered. “What does this great idiot want now?”
“You are dawdling,” said the Knight accusingly. “Make haste. I must return to my duties.”
“I’ve lost a dragon to injury,” Gerard returned. “I don’t plan to lose a horse.”
There was no help for it, however. This Knight was apparently going to stick to them like a bloodsucking tick. Gerard increased the pace. As they entered the outskirts of the camp, they saw the army that was beginning to dig in for the siege. The soldiers were setting up camp well outside the range of arrows from the city walls. A few Solanthus archers tried their luck, but their arrows fell well short, and eventually the firing ceased. Probably their officers told them to quit being fools and save their arrows.
No one in the enemy camp paid the archers any attention, beyond glancing now and then at the walls that were lined with soldiers. The glances were furtive and were often followed by an exchange of words with a comrade, both of whom would raise their eyebrows, shake their heads and return to work quickly before an officer noticed. The soldiers did not appear frightened at the daunting sight of the walled city, merely bemused.
Gerard indulged his curiosity, looked about intently. He was not part of this army and so his curiosity would appear justified.
He turned to his guide. “When do the rest of the troops arrive?”
The Knight’s voice was calm, but Gerard noted that the man s eyes flickered behind his helm. “Reinforcements are on the way.”
“A great number, I suppose,” Gerard said.
“A vast number,” said the Knight. “More than you can imagine.”
“They’re nearby?”
The Knight eyed Gerard narrowly. “Why do you want to know? What is it to you?”
Gerard shrugged. “I thought I might lend my sword to the cause, that’s all.”
“What did you say?” the Knight demanded.
Gerard raised his voice to be heard above the din of hammers pounding, officers shouting orders, and the general tumult that went along with setting up a field camp.
“Solanthus is the most well-fortified city on the continent. The mightiest siege engines on Krynn couldn’t make a dent in those walls. There must be five thousand troops ready to defend the city. What do you have here? A few hundred? Of course, you’re expecting reinforcements. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”
The Knight shook his head. Rising in his stirrups, he pointed. “There is Mina’s command tent. You can see the flag. I will leave you to find your own way.”
“Wait a minute,” Gerard shouted after the Knight. “I want to deliver my prisoner safely to the interrogator. There’ll be a reward in this for me. I don’t want her dragged off and lynched!”
The Knight cast him a scornful glance. “You are not in Neraka, sir,” he said disdainfully and rode off.
Gerard dismounted, began leading the horse through the ordered confusion. The soldiers were working swiftly and with a will. The officers gave direction, but they were not haranguing, not threatening. No whips urged the men to work faster and smarter. Morale appeared high. The soldiers were laughing and joking with each other and singing songs to help ease their labor. Yet, all they had to do was to look up on the city walls to see ten times more than their own number.
“This is a joke,” said Odila, keeping her voice low. They were surrounded by the enemy, and although the din was deafening, someone might overhear. “They have no army of reinforcements nearby. Our patrols go out daily. They would have seen such a massive buildup of troops.”
“Apparently, they didn’t,” Gerard returned. “Solanthus was caught with its pants down.”
Gerard kept his hand on his sword hilt, ready to fight should anyone decide to take it into his head to have a little fun with the Solamnic prisoner. The soldiers glanced at them with interest as they passed. A few halted to jeer at the Solamnic, but their officers quickly ordered the men back to work.