He wondered how many fit young men had left farms like his to start this war. He was uneasy at the thought that he had left his own home vulnerable when he joined the partisans, but he was needed in Capehill, and if Falkan were to be free, this battle needed to be fought and won.
Sharr helped Gita as she scrambled awkwardly up the icy slope to the relatively flat summit, then checked back for Markus. He made no move to assist the lieutenant.
The two sentries stopped talking and stood to attention when they realised who had joined them. ‘Ma’am,’ one of them said, echoed by the second.
‘Good evening, boys,’ Gita said, trying to mask her wheezing. She was tired, and her stomach hurt from the climb. ‘Anything to report?’
The two shared a nervous look then shook their heads. ‘No, ma’am,’ said one.
‘Everyone in place?’
‘It’s getting harder to see, ma’am,’ he told her, ‘but from here it looks like the third and eighth platoons are moving into position, south of the city.’
The second sentry added, ‘Ma’am, we lost sight of Arden’s company when they passed across that snowfield there in the north.’
‘Captain Arden,’ Sharr corrected softly.
‘Sorry, sir, sorry, ma’am.’ The sentry coughed, and repeated, ‘Captain Arden.’
Gita ignored his lapse. ‘Good. My staff are here, their companies assembled behind these hills and in that grove to the southeast… so we’re in position. All we need now is the enemy – and we don’t know where the enemy has gone.’
Markus winced. ‘Ah, ma’am, if we-’
‘Just a moment, Markus,’ Gita interrupted, ‘Sharr was going to show us something. What is it, Sharr? I know you wouldn’t have had me haul my broken-down old body up here for nothing.’
Sharr grinned. Capehill lay sprawled at their feet, glittering firelight casting a shadowy glow on otherwise silent homes and businesses. From the hilltop, the city looked a natural target.
The harbour was different, however: something about it looked fundamentally wrong, though Gita wasn’t sure what had changed. There was a veritable fleet of boats moored in the shallows and lashed to the docks, and even from this distance she could hear the faint chime of a hundred or more bridges as bells rang out the aven changes. It had grown dark and there was no colour; the boats all looked like hulks, floating shadows. Gita shook her head, trying to figure out what was different. ‘What is it, Sharr? Where are they?’ she asked.
The erstwhile fisherman pointed towards the horizon, darker in the east. ‘You see that group of stars out there, just off the water?’
Gita sighted along Sharr’s outstretched arm. Her vision wasn’t what it had been two hundred Twinmoons earlier, but finally she focused on the low-lying constellation. ‘What is that?’ she asked, adding, ‘I’ve never seen those before.’
‘Demonpiss,’ Markus whispered to himself.
‘What? What is it? Someone tell me.’ Gita was irritated now, feeling as if she’d been left out of a secret everyone else knew. Behind her, the two sentries stood a bit straighter.
‘It’s a squadron of ships, ma’am,’ Sharr explained. ‘They left with the tide about two avens ago. They’re naval ships. There’s a bark, two brig-sloops, square-rigged, and a frigate, a big fat bastard, that one.’
‘And who in the names of the gods is on them?’ Gita was still confused, and angry at her own ignorance. ‘What do I care if-?’ She cut herself short. ‘That’s it. This harbour,’ she said. ‘I knew there was something awry, but I couldn’t figure it out. That’s it; that’s what’s different.’
‘Ma’am?’ Now Sharr looked confused.
‘The boats, Sharr. Markus, look at the boats. What do you see?’ Gita didn’t wait for them to reply. ‘There’re only fishing boats, no big merchant vessels, and no naval ships, only the trawlers and net-boats. See?’ She waved an open hand at the wharf as if the answer was obvious. ‘There’s no accommodation at Capehill Harbour for big merchant ships because passage through the North Sea is essentially impossible – unless there’s a northern Twinmoon and high tides in the archipelago – and anyway, very few merchant ships make the passage around the Ronan peninsula-’
‘Because the Malakasian navy has it blockaded,’ Markus finished up for her.
‘No one knows why,’ Gita went on, ‘it’s something to do with Estrad Village and the Forbidden Forest, but there haven’t been big merchant ships around Ronan point in generations, so, in turn, Capehill rarely plays host to those size vessels.’
Markus scanned the small fishing boats, owned and operated by independent fishermen like Sharr. He said, ‘So the only large vessels moored in this harbour would be-’
‘The Malakasian navy,’ Sharr interrupted, ‘and there they go, ma’am. That little group of stars fading on the horizon are the watch-lights on every Malakasian ship in these waters. They loaded stores, took on water, and then boarded all the Malakasian soldiers in Capehill, except for a handful securing the wharf, and I’m guessing the next ship to round the point, perhaps one of those policing the Estrad Inlet, will be coming north to pick them up.’
‘That’s the group of nervous-looking men you mentioned earlier?’ Gita asked, dazed.
‘Right,’ Sharr nodded. ‘They’re acting as if things are normal, they’re still in command of the city, but there are maybe fifteen of them on the wharf, and they must know already that they’re on tomorrow’s lunch menu.’
‘Why would they leave a squad behind like that?’ Markus asked.
‘Who knows?’ Gita said. ‘No room on the ships? Orders? Who’s to say why these horsecocks do what they do, but Sharr’s right; we’ll carve those whoring bastards up and grill them for dinner – that’ll be easy. What I don’t understand is why did they leave? And where are they going?’
‘North,’ Sharr said.
Gita laughed. North? Is there some kind of armed insurrection going on in Gorsk that we don’t know about? That’s even more confusing – and it’s gods-rutting reckless; they’ll lose half their ships just trying to navigate the archipelago. If they’re loaded to bursting and they actually didn’t have room to take on fifteen extra men, they’ll be scraping their hulls inside the next Moon.’ She cocked an eyebrow at Sharr. ‘How much draft do they need to make it through those islands?’
Sharr pulled his cloak closed against the evening chill. ‘A lot less than they’ve got, unless they plan to go far to the north, out beyond anything we have on the charts.’
‘Why?’ Markus asked. ‘Why did they leave?’
Gita looked at him. ‘I honestly don’t know, Markus.’
‘Shall I give the order, ma’am?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘Sharr, take a squad into the city. I want to be absolutely certain there’s no one left, other than the lot at the harbour. Spread out, check everywhere, and be back here ready to report at dawn. If it’s clear, we’ll move at sunrise.’
Sharr nodded and hurried down the slope as Gita continued, ‘Markus, get word to the officers to stand down until dawn.’
‘Very well, ma’am.’ He too rushed off into the night, leaving Gita standing with the sentries, looking down on the fires sparking into life here and there in the darkness below.
Brexan rolled over, shaking the wine-cobwebs from her head, wondering what aven it was and why she’d awakened Someone was knocking.
She squeezed open her eyes and yawned, then rasped, ‘Come in.’ She cleared her throat, which was horribly dry and uncomfortable. ‘Come in,’ she said again, more clearly this time.
‘The door’s latched, Brexan,’ a muffled voice whispered from the corridor.
She pushed back the coverlet, pulled a tunic over her head and padded across the floor. She let the door swing open while she used her bedside candle to light several more. Doren Ford emerged from the shadows.