The tall man spoke again:
"Eston has a few hundred trained crossbowmen, more archers, lots of militia—numbers, not much armor or training. The mayor and the city guard captain in command. Castle garrison—James is young, doesn't know much, but he might listen to his captains." He fell silent. The Emperor nodded, continued:
"We have two sieges to run. Third, you're senior, in charge of this one. Twentieth, the city is your problem—take a look at cutting their water. Both of you report to me, messages daily if I'm at the other siege.
"Garth, you and Vija start back today for the valley mouth. If I had time I'd talk to Justin myself, but it's a day's ride and more. Here's what I want you to tell him:
"Our best guess is that Harald doesn't have much of an army out on the plain—a few hundred cats, less than a thousand heavies, a few more coming in if our friend is wrong about the provinces. Maybe a thousand mounted archers, probably less.
"There are a lot more cats on the far side of the mountains. That's why Vija has scouts halfway across the plain. We might lose a few, but leatherbacks outrun cats. My guess is the Vales fought a hard campaign their side of the mountains this spring, sent Harald and a few hundred men, and that's probably it. If he asks for more and they don't come there's not a damn thing he can do about it.
"My best guess is he isn't getting much more. Best guess, our cavalry outnumber him four to one, maybe more. When the cavalry commanders hear that, they might decide it's their chance for glory.
"Justin's senior in the western force. He's a day's ride from here; I can't hold his hand. Tell him from me, our best guess is still a guess—in twenty years we've made a lot of wrong guesses. If he smashes the Karl cavalry out on the plains, we still have to win here. If he loses our cavalry trying, we have a problem. Not a good time to take chances, not a good commander to take them against. If he has to fight, he should use cavalry and legions both—if our guesses are wrong Harald might have more cavalry than we do. Questions?"
Garth thought a moment. "Your Majesty's best guess is that Harald has only a small army but Justin is not to risk his force on that or let the cavalry commanders risk theirs. If it comes to a fight, he is to use both his legions and the cavalry together."
"Correct. Go tell him."
"I know you can ride and shoot. If I point out that you don't have a war coat you'll borrow a lamella each off two hundred cats to make one with—and one of them will get an arrow through the hole."
Asbjorn looked at his grandfather with suspicion.
"But you are not trained to fight as part of a decade; learning in the middle of a battle can get other people killed. Besides, putting you in the line would be a waste—more useful doing other things."
"Such as?"
"Playing beggar boy in the Imperial camp and bringing me a count of what I was fighting. And no, I don't need you to do that again just now; I know what they have. Scouting still to be done, some of it on foot. Messages to carry. Maybe help steal some horses in a day or two.
"Speaking of which, I have to find an uncle of yours." Harald gave Asbjorn a brief hug, set off through the encampment.
Halfway to where he had left the mare, he saw Stephen, stopped a moment to talk.
"Off to find some friends, back tomorrow. One thing like you to deal with—message to Ragnar, hills north of Eston valley, last little valley east—Knute knows where. Fourth steading up from the main road. Can't find Ragnar, find Jon, his mother, first steading up; they can pass it on. Tell Ragnar to signal our friends east of him—he knows—shut the gates. Rest of it as we planned. Have someone can get over the hills? Eston valley's crowded just now."
"I can find someone to send. Ragnar in the fourth steading up Red Rock Creek. Tell him to signal east."
Harald nodded. Almost as soon as Harald was out of sight, Stephen noticed another familiar face, stopped a moment.
"Lord Stephen? Grandfather doesn't want me in the line, said I could carry messages. Don't suppose . . . ?"
"Stephen sent him off yesterday with my message. Asbjorn, Hen, Jon, all in one little valley in sight of an enemy army. We have a problem."
Caralla considered the matter briefly.
"So does the Emperor."
"There is that. Good boys. Not exactly cautious."
She looked at her father, responded more to tone than words.
"Might be something I can do."
Tonio looked up, sniffed.
"I smell smoke."
His partner kept his eyes on the forest edge.
"Of course you smell smoke; what do you think the army cooks over?"
"This smells different. Leaves, like the meadow at home in the fall. Look."
The other guard followed his finger. The plume was rising from somewhere past the near ridge above them, pouring lazily down the slope into the valley.
"It is odd. Think the Karls are trying to fire the forest?"
"Just one fire. I'll go tell Marko, see if he wants us to do something."
Ten minutes later, half a squad of legionaries was moving warily up the slope through the woods. Nobody. Over the ridge a small clearing, a bonfire mostly burned out.
Tonio felt something strike his shield, yelled out.
"Archers. Shields up."
More arrows from the woods beyond. One of the legionaries was kneeling behind his shield, a feathered shaft sticking out of his leg. The squad commander signaled the rest forward.
By the time they rejoined the wounded man, the fire had mostly burned out. Tonio poked at it curiously while two of the others improvised a stretcher.
"I think Your Majesty should see this."
Tonio, eyes down, urged forward, held up his blistered hands.
"Tell His Majesty what happened."
The legionary hesitated, spoke:
"It was the Karls, sir. Majesty. They had a bonfire upslope. Smelled funny. Officer took half a squad of us up to see. Two or three of them shot at us, ran away—one man hurt."
"Did you have anything particular to do with the bonfire? Put your hands in the smoke, did you?"
"No sir. Just poked it with my sword, make sure it was out, try to see what was in it."
"And you then wiped off your sword blade, as a good soldier would."
"Yes sir."
The Emperor turned to the physician. "Anyone else?"
"Not like that. But two soldiers, one the wounded man from his squad, had skin blisters, said they itched. After I saw Tonio . . ."
"Yes. There might be more—look into it. Not much we can do now. Next time . . ."
He turned to one of the other officers in the tent.
"Karol. You said your savages wanted to get into the fun, kill someone."
"Everyone still all right?"
The other two boys held out their hands; Asbjorn looked them over carefully.
"Good. Poison weed doesn't do much to me, some people touch it, scratching all over for weeks. Careful not to touch, washed after, still a risk."
"Do we do it again?" That was Hen.
Asbjorn thought a moment.
"Cleared out the big patch Jon knew about. Getting that much again a lot of work. This time we do it without the weed."
"What good does that do? Oh."
"Know where the enemy is going to be, half the battle."
Their preparations took most of the day. When they were done, all three went swimming, then Asbjorn and Hen went upstream, Jon into the woods. When they met again at the empty house—Jon's mother and the farm animals were with a neighbor ten miles farther up the little valley—there were trout from the stream to clean and cook, two rabbits from Jon's snares.
Hen pointed at the biggest trout.
"I got that one. It really works. You just have to stay very still, everything but the fingers."
Jon looked up from cleaning his rabbits.
"Harald told me. Didn't ever show me though. Said he couldn't do it left-handed."
"Tomorrow, after the ambush. All three of us can go—if I can't make it work, 'Bjorn'll show you."
Asbjorn held up a hand for silence, looked around, shook his head, went back to grilling fish over the fire.
In the middle of the night Hen woke up. Smell of straw, animals. The barn door closing. Asbjorn's head appeared as he climbed up to the loft.
"What is it?"
"Nothing. Just scouting to be sure. Thought I saw something earlier, maybe not. Go to sleep—lots to do tomorrow."
The first legionary came out of the woods into the edge of the clearing, shield up. More. The line moved cautiously forward, shifting right to avoid the blowing smoke. One man stumbled, cursed, fell forward. Arrows out of the woods; he jerked, lay still. The others kept coming, more cautiously still. A sound of cracking branches, two of the remaining four waist deep into a pit. One of them screamed, reached down, lowering his shield; more arrows.
Asbjorn saw a flicker of something off to the right, drew, released, yelled.
"Run."
He loosed a second arrow blind, followed his own order, cursing silently at the sound of the other two crashing through the woods ahead of him. No time to look back, skin crawling. Sunlight ahead. Through the small meadow. At the far side he turned, nocked, waited, sounds moving away, trying to remember.
Three figures out of the woods at the far side, running. Painted faces, hide shields. He loosed, heard the arrow strike the shield, aimed lower, loosed. No time; he snatched for his dagger.
One of the Bashkai dropped his axe, clutched at an arrow sprouting from his throat, stumbled, fell. The other two retreated back into the cover of the trees; 'Bjorn saw that one of them had an arrow in his leg.
"Run."
A stranger's voice. Glanced to one side. Mail, his own size, tunic gold brown. Another beyond. Longbows.
"More coming. Run now, talk later."
He saw them again clearly when all three came into the field below the house. Ladies of the Order, bow, quiver, sword. The one in the lead jumped the low stone wall, took cover behind it; a moment later she was joined by Asbjorn and the other.
The first Lady turned to look back at the house, Jon and Hen staring wide-eyed. He had heard women compared to flowers; this one reminded him of a sword blade. Something familiar. Who? She called out in a low voice: "Hen. Form up with us; they may still be coming."
Both boys picked up their bows, joined the three at the wall.
Half an hour later, the second Lady lowered her bow, turned to Asbjorn.
"Want to check out the woods on the far side. Can you cover—stay behind, shoot anyone tries to kill me?"
He nodded. She came over the wall, a weaving run to the forest edge; he followed.
By the time they got back, the other three were sitting talking, Jon still watching the woods. The slender Lady stood up as they arrived; so did Hen.
" 'Bjorn, this is Elaina; 'Laina, Asbjorn."
"And my sister's Kara. Caralla said she was afraid her crazy nephew would get Hen and his friend into trouble, asked me to come keep an eye on things."
Hen looked up, spoke in a tone of honest astonishment.
"She sent you to keep us out of trouble?"
Kara glared at him; Elaina grinned.
"Actually, she said that if Kara had kept me alive for the past four years, Asbjorn should be easy. She and Mother worry too much."
Asbjorn stopped watching her, turned to Kara.
"It was you in the woods last night?"
She nodded.
"Hammocks in the forest, wanted to scout things out a bit."
Jon spoke. "You can have Mother's bed if you want it; Hen and 'Bjorn are in the barn."
Kara shook her head.
"Woods are safer. Harder to find."
A room, a bed, a cradle. Two women arguing.
"Please, my lady."
"It won't work."
"You could disguise yourself as a servant. A boy. They don't even know you're here. None of our people would tell."
Anne looked at her affectionately, bent over the cradle, reached down. The baby found what she was looking for, fell silent again.
"I haven't looked like a boy since I was thirteen, and certainly not at the moment. And you're forgetting Andrew. We don't know if any of his people are inside the castle—Captain Henry and the Lady Commander have been watching. But there are surely people of his, maybe Andrew himself, with the Emperor, and they know what I look like."
"There must be some way. Hide in the dungeons maybe. His Majesty, Harald would say the same."
"James might. Harald would expect me to meet His Imperial Majesty at the door of my chamber, greet him politely, and advise him to get out of my kingdom before my husband and his allies show up."
She stopped a moment, thought.
"Or perhaps to be feminine and incompetent. Flirt with my guards. Wait until we're on the road north, steal a horse, ride west. If the Imperials take the castle they'll go through all of it, including the dungeons—looking for loot if nothing else.
"Better yet, do my best to see they don't take the castle. Men fight for things they can see. My daughter and I are going down now; you come too. Maybe Henry will try flirting with you again. You could do worse. Harald thinks well of him."
Three flights above them, the open roof, a view over the ramparts.
"More engines than yesterday—must have brought them up from the Eston siege. Archers too. They're going to try."
The Lady Commander fell silent, turned, started down the tower stairs; the castle captain took one more look over the scene, followed her. Arrived in the courtyard, both started giving orders.
With the front wall of his tent raised, the Emperor could see one side of the castle, the gate, both siege towers, the movable shed that would shelter the ram. Archers on the other side as well, but here where the slope up was gentlest was where the attack would come. Was coming. Pushed by hundreds of men, two siege towers crept towards the dirt ramps that led to the walls. As they came within arrowshot, a trumpet rang out. Too far to see, but he knew the besieging archers were pouring arrows at the top of the rampart, every arrow slot.