Tebeo shook his head. “There’s no need. In fact I was going to call for you. Two of my captains have suggested that I discuss with the regent terms for our surrender. I-”
“Surrender?” she broke in, incredulous. “That’s nonsense! It’s far too soon to even consider such a thing.” She cast a dark look at Gabrys. “If this is typical of the counsel you’re receiving from your captains, it may be time to promote some of the other men.”
Gabrys grinned, eyeing the minister. “It may be that I’ve misjudged her, my lord.”
“I believe you did. Gabrys agrees with you, First Minister,” Tebeo explained. “I was speaking of two other captains.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Forgive me, Captain. I spoke rashly.”
The man shook his head. “There’s nothing to forgive, Minister. It is nonsense to speak of surrender. Had I been one of these other men I would have deserved your contempt and more.”
“I have no intention of surrendering,” Tebeo said to Evanthya. “I was just asking the captain what I should be doing instead.”
“And I’m afraid that I can’t offer much by way of reply, my lord,” Gabrys said. “The truth is, there’s little you can do just now. It’s always seemed to me that a siege is far harder on the defending noble than is any other form of combat. Victory for the besieged comes not from aggressive tactics or battlefield genius. Rather, it comes from simple patience. At most times, it’s best to do nothing at all. I believe many men find it more difficult to wait than to do something, anything, no matter what it might be.”
Tebeo gave a wan smile. “Again, Bausef tried to tell me much the same thing, just before I sent him to attack the hurling arms.” He glanced at the first minister, then looked out toward the Solkarans again. “I believe you tried as well, Evanthya. Didn’t you?”
“I didn’t know what would happen to Master DarLesta’s raiding party, my lord. Neither did he. He suggested that we respond to the regent’s attacks a certain way, and I agreed. That’s all.”
“That’s a most generous interpretation of what happened, First Minister. I thank you.”
“It’s the truth, my lord. No more or less. And if you’ll forgive me for saying so, I believe it’s time you stopped blaming yourself for the master of arms’s death.”
The duke’s hands were resting on the ramparts, and now he gripped the stone until his knuckles whitened. He said nothing, however. Bausef’s head was still mounted on a pole high above the Solkaran camp, his sightless eyes seeming to stare directly back at the fortress, the flesh on his face blackened, his slack mouth hanging open, as if he were laughing at some dark jest. The man was a warrior. He had served his duke loyally, following orders regardless of whether or not he agreed with them. He deserved a better fate.
“You both want me to do nothing. Yet the other captains spoke of possible desertions if our prospects for victory don’t improve. What do I do to raise the men’s spirits?”
“Nothing,” said the captain. “They’re soldiers. They don’t need coddling and they deserve better than false assurances. Let them do their jobs.”
“Do you agree with that, too?” he asked the minister.
“I’m not certain. Can the other captains be trusted not to sow discontent among the men?”
Tebeo turned at that. “A good question.”
Gabrys cast a disapproving eye at the minister before answering. “The others are fools, my lord. They’re not traitors.”
Evanthya raked a hand through her white hair. “They don’t have to be traitors to stir up trouble. All they need to do is speak openly of surrender, or of how poorly they believe the siege is going. The rest will take care of itself.”
“Can they be trusted to be discreet?” the duke asked, afraid that he already knew the answer.
The captain grimaced. “I think I’d best speak with them, just to make certain.”
“Please do, Captain. Sooner rather than later.”
“Yes, my lord.” Gabrys bowed and walked away briskly.
“He seems a good man, don’t you think?”
The first minister nodded. “He does, my lord. Do you intend to make him your new master of arms?”
“I think so. When all of this is over.”
“Why wait?”
Tebeo looked at her. “You think I should do it now, in the midst of all this?”
“You wanted to know what to do for the men. It seems to me that giving them a new commander would go a long way toward demonstrating that you’re not about to surrender. And if your captains are in disagreement over how best to respond to the regent’s attacks, it might help to have them answering to a man who shares your resolve to fight on.”
“You may be right. I had thought to wait a full turn, out of respect for Bausef, but that may not be possible under these circumstances.”
“I believe the master of arms would understand, my lord.”
Tebeo smiled again, intending to thank her. He never got the chance.
Men cried out from beyond the castle walls. At the same time, several of Tebeo’s men called, “Look to the skies!” as they did each time the Solkarans began an assault with the hurling arms. Yet this time, when Tebeo turned his gaze skyward, he didn’t see one of the great fiery boulders or another of the dreaded carcasses. Instead he saw a large cluster of burning arrows blazing across the starlit sky. But it was the direction of their flight that made his heart soar. The arrows weren’t headed for the castle, nor had they been loosed from the Solkaran camp; they flew from the east, arcing upward from the shadowed recesses of the Great Forest. And they were aimed at the center of Numar’s army.
“It must be Kett!” Evanthya said.
The arrows rained down on the Solkarans, bringing shrieks of pain and frantically shouted orders.
“I agree. Get the captain for me! Quickly, First Minister!”
“Yes, my lord!”
She ran to the tower, leaving him to watch a second volley fly from the wood. He hated this war. He despaired at every lost life, knowing that as the Aneiran armies weakened themselves, the Qirsi movement-the true enemy-grew ever stronger. Yet he could not help but rejoice at the suffering he heard from Numar’s men. After all they had done to his people, to his castle, he lusted for vengeance.
“Let them kill the regent,” he whispered, shocked by the sentiment, but unable to banish it from his mind, and unwilling to forswear the words.
More arrows soared into the night sky, and now the Solkarans launched their own assault in response.
Tebeo heard footsteps. Evanthya and Gabrys.
“You see them, Captain?”
“I do, my lord. I agree with the first minister. The attack comes from the east; it must be Kelt.”
“What do we do to help them?”
“My lord, I’m not certain-”
“Surely you don’t think that Kelt’s army can stand alone against the Solkarans. We have to help them in some way, press the advantage they’ve given us.”
“Rassor’s army is still out there as well, my lord. If we send out our men, they could be trapped between the regent’s force and Rassor’s men coming to Numar’s aid.”
“And if we do nothing, Ansis’s men could be destroyed by the combined might of the two houses.”
As if prompted by their discussion, another cry went up, this one from east and south of the castle. Tebeo and the captain exchanged a look before all of them began running along the ramparts to the east wall. By the time they could see Rassor’s camp the duke’s heart was racing, not only with the exertion of getting there, but with elation at what was unfolding before him. Rassor’s men were under attack as well, from the south.
“Noltierre?” Evanthya asked, breathless as well.
“Or Tounstrel. Or perhaps both. Right now I don’t care.”
The minister smiled. “Yes, my lord.”
“What say you now, Captain?”
Gabrys gave a small shrug. “That we needn’t worry any longer about Kett having to fend off both armies. With Rassor and Solkara both engaged, they can’t combine their numbers against either of our allies. Nor can they simply resume their assaults on the castle. We’ve a respite, my lord. We should take advantage of it and do nothing at all.”