"What about the Copper River bridges? I know the dwarves planned to replace the spans, but as short as they are on manpower now…"
"They are already rebuilt."
"Will the ice be thick enough to cross the swamp with horses?"
It was Vulkan who replied. ‹Water which is shallow and quiet freezes more quickly than deep water, or water with a strong current. And for the first four days, the two routes are the same. If the weather continues cold till then, the ice should hold you.›
Should hold, Macurdy thought. Should's not the word I want. "If we take that route," he asked, "will we be able to muster enough boats to cross the Pomatik?"
"I'll find out," Blue Wing said.
"You have trouble with numbers," Macurdy reminded him.
"You need many boats. Many is not a number."
‹The North Fork of the Pomatik is frozen,› Vulkan pointed out.
"That's the North Fork. What about lower reaches?"
Blue Wing didn't answer at once. Instead he sought briefly, and found the memory stem of a great raven who'd seen it that morning. "Not frozen yet," he said, "but the backwaters are. If this cold continues…"
First should. Now if. "All right. We'll start in the morning, and see how the weather's held when we reach the Copper River Road. Then I'll decide."
Finn Greatsword gave Macurdy and his Tigers free passage should they decide to take the Copper River Road. He also confirmed that the bridges were ready, and that the river level was low. Where it passed through the swamp, the current should be negligible.
The next morning they left the Cloister. For four days the temperature never rose to the freezing point, and fell well below it at night. So on the fifth day, the two Tiger cohorts turned east on the Copper River Road. Being mounted, they reached the swamp in three days. For the first mile below the dock, the river was open, though the swamp was frozen. Below that, ice covered the river, too. After another mile, Macurdy took an ax from a packhorse, and walking a little way out on the river ice, tested it. Four inches. Which was probably enough, but he remembered Melody, and backed away. A couple of miles farther he tried again. Five, maybe six inches. Getting on his warhorse, he started across, testing it. It held all the way, without a creak.
Looking back, he shouted orders. The cohorts spread out downstream and crossed in files by platoon. In every file, no man started across till the man ahead had made it.
When all were across, they started north again.
With Raien gone, Varia was nearly alone. Even Rorie, their youngest, was gone. A private learning the military profession, he'd left with the 1st Royal Cavalry Cohort. It had marched south from Duinarog in mid Ten-Month, then turned east on the South Shore Highway, along the Imperial Sea.
She'd arranged other employment for all the household staff but three: Talrie, who now took care of all maintenance work, and tended the furnace and water heater; Talrie's wife Meg, who'd been cook, now handled all the kitchen work; and Correen, who'd become Varia's all-purpose housegirl. If additional help was needed from time to time, she'd hire temporary workers.
Most of the house was closed off and the furniture covered. The doors were ajar, however, so the house's cats could patrol for the mice which might otherwise damage the furniture. All the horses were boarded out except Chessy, Varia's own. Chessy she cared for herself, feeding and brushing her, bedding her down, and cleaning up behind her. Meanwhile she'd begun work at the Royal Archives, as a volunteer historian's assistant, and had already become quite knowledgeable about the job.
At home, after supper on Solstice Eve, she sat down to read. It was a book she'd brought with her from Farside, thirty years earlier on maternity leave: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. Amazingly it had survived Ferny Cove-which was better than her children by Will had done-and Raien had gotten it back for her through diplomatic lines after the war.
But reading by oil lamp tired her eyes. After two or three hours, she took a hot bath and went to bed.
After a time she awoke with a start, to the covers being jerked away. Hands grabbed her arms, and before she could resist or even scream, she was flopped onto her stomach, her face pressed into the featherbed. Other hands gripped her ankles, and quickly she was tied, then gagged. Someone stood her up, and a cloak was draped over her.
"Excuse us, Your Ladyship." The tone was sardonic. "Your life is threatened here. We're taking you away. To safety, you understand."
"Shut up," said another. Then someone slung Varia over a shoulder and carried her out into the winter night.
A carriage sleigh stood waiting in the street. Two people sat in back, but even with snowlight it was too dark inside to distinguish features. One, by his aura, was an enforcer type, perhaps a bodyguard. The other she classified as marginally psychotic.
They waited while her abductors returned to the house and went inside. "Here," the enforcer said to her. "I'm going to take out your gag and open your mouth. One screech and I hurt you. Badly."
She sat carefully still, and felt fingers loosen the gag.
"Now open," he said. "His lordship will give you a draft of something. Drink it!"
She felt a flask at her lips, and accepted it. It tilted slightly. The taste was of brandy, good brandy, and she swallowed its warmth. There was, she thought, something in it. There had to be.
In a minute the front entrance opened again. Before her abductors closed it behind them, she saw flames inside. "There are people in there," she whispered muzzily; the drug was taking effect.
"No, my dear," the second man said. "There is no one. Not a living soul."
Of course not, she realized. All three would have been killed. Meanwhile she'd recognized the voice. Not one she knew well, but she recognized it. It seemed to her she wouldn't come through this alive.
PART SIX
Expansion And Intensification
Macurdy awoke to dread, and sat up slowly, not breathing, trying to hold the darkness to him. But it lightened, became a murky, smoky red. There was a smell of burning flesh and hair.
"So! There you are, Herr Montag! You cannot hide from me, not even in your dreams."
It was Kronprinz Kurqosz. His ears had become horns. With a table fork, he raised the cube of raspberry jello that encased Macurdy, and peered closely, his eye enormous. "You thought I did not know who to blame." His low laugh rumbled. "It was you who inconvenienced me in Bavaria, and who burned down my gatehouse. Now you annoy me with your foolish little armies."
His smile was not pleasant. "You will waken soon, and discover this was only a dream. But do not feel relieved. You think you have seen sorcery? When my lightning strikes, I will have your soul in a bottle! With all the others."
From a dream by Curtis Macurdy in the forest behind voitik lines
33 The Alliance Makes Itself Felt
Kurqosz met daily with his staff and their aides, to review and plan. This morning, the emphasis was on enemy raids on supply trains.
There were three suitable east-west roads through the central forest region. Initially the trains had been sent by whatever route was shortest to the reception point. After the first raids, that policy had been dropped. Everything had been routed on one road, which was patrolled by strong cavalry forces.
Almost at once the raiders had taken to felling numerous trees across the road, in places where turning was difficult, and the nearest detour well behind the train. Sometimes the detour was blocked too. And clearing the road was slower than felling the trees had been, for typically the felled trees lay atop each other, making access cumbersome and slow for the axmen clearing them.