“I’ll take it, Dad.”
Startled, Hecht asked, “Can you ride? You’ll have to ride.” Which seemed the stupidest question possible, though an approach on foot would insult members of the cavalier class.
“Just put me on a good-looking horse.”
“Forget that,” Clej Sedlakova said. “Send the one-armed man, Boss.” Pella used a hand to conceal a smirk. The sneak.
“The one-armed man’s gesture is appreciated but the job calls for someone who can carry a banner and steer a horse at the same time.”
To which Pella said, “I’ll carry the banner. Or the olive branch. He can do the talking.”
“All right. Clej, remind them that Anselin is all we’re interested in. They hand him over, we go away. They don’t, we take him. But say it politely.”
Hecht ground his teeth as Pella and Sedlakova rode off. Hagen Brokke muttered something about the boy growing up.
The encounter was brief. The locals were not demonstratively antagonistic. Sedlakova headed back. Pella lagged a moment. Hecht grumbled, “I hope he didn’t just say something obnoxious.”
Sedlakova did not bring good news. “The interpreter says everybody but the King is willing to give Anselin up but Stain has been more strange than usual, lately, and refuses to cooperate.”
Hecht grunted. He looked at Pella. The boy said, “I didn’t say anything, Dad. I just gave them the hard-eye.”
“Really?”
“It’s psychology. I’m just a kid. If I’m not worried…”
“Maybe. Clej. Find a way across the river. Pella. Go back up there. Tell them I’m challenging Stain himself.”
“Boss?”
“Dad?”
“Don’t argue. Do it.” Stain would be too cautious to accept. He would not test himself against a complete unknown.
* * *
Hecht’s confidence was misplaced. Pella brought word that Stain would meet the Commander of the Righteous tomorrow afternoon.
“I fooled myself,” Hecht confessed. But he felt no anxiety.
Not so the others. They wanted him to weasel out. “That’s what he’s counting on.” Hecht did believe that. “He called my bluff. Now I’ll call his. Rivademar, you can be a half-ass diplomat when you want. Make the arrangements. Avoid any mention of a truce.”
This would be a good time for the Shining Ones to contribute. Something. Anything. Where the hell were they?
Pella protested, “Dad, you don’t have any armor, or anything.”
Hecht shrugged. “The die is cast. Vircondelet. Go.”
“Yes sir, Boss.” Grinning through the dark brush that had sprouted on his face during the march.
Pella asked, “What are you up to, Dad?”
“Events should make a face-off unnecessary.” He wondered at his own confidence.
* * *
Clej Sedlakova, unwittingly guided by friendly spirits whose invisibility had Lord Arnmigal muttering, located an unguarded bridge. Hecht sent his cavalry and four falcons across and downstream, to face Cholate from the north bank of the Vilde. A stone bridge spanned the river. The last ten feet, however, consisted of a heavy drawbridge. The citizenry had tried to raise that. It had become stuck partway up. Sedlakova installed his falcons at the head of the bridge and raised earthworks to protect against a cross-river sortie.
His falcons did not speak. He believed they would be more intimidating, waiting quietly.
* * *
Sedlakova sent his commander a message in the heart of the night. The courier crossed the river by means of a taut rope running from bank to bank. Soon afterward forty men used the rope to cross in the opposite direction. Titus Consent led them. Lord Arnmigal tagged along, just to observe. Weapons, clothing, and gear crossed in captured boats. The noise seemed loud enough to disturb the dead but Cholate sounded no alarm.
Hecht stood by while Titus crouched with Sedlakova, considering Cholate’s river gate. “When did this happen?”
The gate was open. The drawbridge was down. A man who had stolen across reported that neither portcullis had dropped.
“That’s the creepy part. I’m not sure. Schacter scouted it as soon as we noticed it. He got out as soon as he saw that it was all open.”
“Think it’s an ambush?”
“I’m thinking it’s something else altogether.” Sedlakova glanced back. “How could that stuff all happen without making any noise?”
“No noise? Sounds unlikely.”
“Not unlikely, impossible. It makes me nervous.” He looked back again but referenced no other recent unlikely events.
The Righteous operated in a fog of unlikely events.
Hecht observed, “It would be a sin to ignore that invitation.”
“But if it’s an ambush…”
“I’ll trigger it myself. Titus?”
“Ready.” Consent’s voice squeaked. Those nearby chuckled. Forcing his voice deeper, Consent said, “Make sure your gear won’t rattle, then let’s go.”
A rind of moon sometimes peeked through gaps between scurrying clouds. Its light seemed unable to reach the bridge, though it glistened off the river. Hecht moved ahead, sliding through the shadows. Those who followed maintained a silence no commander could fault.
Hecht’s confidence grew. He understood after he stepped into the darkness of the passage through the wall.
Three Shining Ones awaited him, invisible till he came within a few feet. Their semblances were not rigorously human tonight. He recognized Hourlr and Sheaf, barely. All three faded. Hecht covered Consent’s mouth, in case. No one else saw the Instrumentalities.
“Go on,” Hecht whispered. “I’ll watch.”
Titus sent men to find the gate guards. They were in a sleep so deep they seemed frozen in time. Consent had them restrained, then moved on.
The story was the same everywhere.
Soon all the men were inside and headed toward the citadel. Sedlakova grumbled, “I hope nobody kypes the falcons.”
Hecht assured him, “They’re safe.”
Consent demanded, “Everyone keeping their matches out of sight?”
Most of the men carried handheld falcons. For no reason obvious to Lord Arnmigal soldiers operating in the dark were more confident when armed with those.
A soldier impressed with how well things were going murmured, “The gods are with us tonight.”
Consent sent a team to see if a gate could be opened for the main force. The rest he led to the citadel, where that gateway was open, too. And the garrison, to a man-all three-were snoring.
The place contained neither King Stain, any of his court, nor Anselin of Menand. Nor was there any sign of the knights, nobles, and men-at-arms who made up Hovacol’s army.
“Colonel Sedlakova!” the Commander of the Righteous growled. “Come here! Tell me how Stain made a whole army disappear.”
“I want to, Boss. But I can’t. It’d be a handy trick to have. Maybe he has unseen friends, too.”
It was too dark for Sedlakova to enjoy his commander’s scowl.
“Titus, have you sent warning to the camp? Stain may be considering a surprise of his own.”
“I did send word when I saw that there were too few people around.”
“Would you care to exercise your imagination? Where is Stain?”
“We didn’t push hard because he did what we wanted by backing up instead of fighting. My guess is, he went in the gate we could see and right on out the one we couldn’t, up the river and into the woods. He hasn’t let any fires be lighted so he hasn’t attracted attention that way. I’m surprised he hasn’t launched a night attack. I would have.”
And would have charged straight into the talons of the Choosers. But Hecht could not admit that. Why had his supernatural associates not passed on the facts about the actual state of affairs? Though when they could have done so without attracting attention made for an intriguing question.
He had a sudden notion that he should have anticipated Stain.
He shook his head as though trying to rid it of cobwebs. “Gentlemen. Ideas. What is Stain trying to get us to do? He’s not stupid. He’s enjoyed a lot of military success the past few years.”
Sedlakova shrugged. “I’m out of my depth, Boss.”