The Baron cast a sidelong glance toward Amos, then said to Arutha, “You know my charter and charge. I am vassal to your brother, no one else. I am given the security of this pass. I will not abandon it.”
“My gods, man!” said Guy. “Will you not take our word? An army of more than thirty thousand is marching and you’ve what, one, two thousand soldiers spread over hills from halfway to Northwarden to halfway to Tyr-Sog. He’ll overrun you in a half day!”
“So you say, Guy. I have no firsthand knowledge that what you say is true.”
Arutha was stunned, while Amos said, “Now you’re calling the Prince a liar!”
Brian ignored Amos. “I have no doubt you’ve seen some heavy concentration of Dark Brothers up north, but thirty thousand seems unlikely. We’ve been dealing with them for years and our best intelligence is that there couldn’t be any force of them larger than two thousand in the field under one commander. We can easily handle that many from this position.”
Guy spoke in controlled fury. “Have you been daydreaming while Arutha’s been speaking, Brian? Didn’t he tell you we lost a city with a sixty-foot-high wall, approachable from only one side, defended by seven thousand battle-tested soldiers under my command!”
“And who has long been recognized as the finest military mind in the Kingdom?” asked Arutha.
Highcastle said, “I know of your reputation, Guy, and against Kesh you’ve performed well. But we Border Lords face unusual situations as a matter of course. I’m sure we can deal with these Dark Brothers.” The Baron pushed himself away from the table and moved toward the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have my duties to see to. You may continue to rest here as long as you wish, but remember, here I am the supreme commander until the King decides otherwise. Now I judge you all need rest. Please feel free to dine with my officers and myself, in two hours. I’ll send a guard to wake you.”
Arutha sat down at the table. After Highcastle had left, Amos said, “The man’s an idiot.”
Guy leaned forward, chin in hand. “No, Brian’s just doing his duty as he sees fit. Unfortunately, he’s no general. His patent came from Rodric, as something of a joke. He’s a southerner, a court noble with no prior battle training. And he’s had little trouble with the goblins up here.”
“He came to Crydee once when I was a boy,” said Arutha. “I thought him a dashing fellow. The Border Lords.” The last was said with bitter humour.
“He’ll do as he wishes,” said Guy. “And he’s had mostly trouble-makers like Walter of Gyldenholt sent to his service. Armand sent him here five years ago for stealing from the company treasury. He had been a senior Knight-Lieutenant before that.
“But,” added Guy, “because of politics, some good men are here as well. Baldwin de la Troville and Anthony du Masigny are both first-rate officers. They had the misfortune to be loyal to me. I’m sure it was Caldric who suggested to Lyam they be sent to the border.”
Amos said, “Still, what good? Do you propose we incite a mutiny?”
Guy said, “No, but at least when the butchering begins, the garrison will die under some competent officers along with the fools.”
Arutha leaned back in a chair, feeling fatigue course through his body. He knew they must do something soon, but what? His mind spun with confusion, and he knew it was dulled by lack of sleep and by tension. No one in the room spoke. After a moment Locklear rose and made his way to one of the bunks and lay down. Without words to the others, he was quickly asleep.
Amos said, “That’s the best idea I’ve heard in weeks.” He made his way to another bunk and, with a deep groan of satisfaction, settled into the soft embrace of the down comforter. “I will see you at supper.” The others followed his example.
Soon all were asleep except Arutha, who tossed and turned, his mind visited by visions of hosts of goblins and moredhel overrunning his nation, killing and burning. His eyes refused to stay closed, and at last he sat up, a cold sweat upon his body. He glanced about and saw the others were all slumbering. He lay back and waited for sleep to come, but he was still awake when the call for supper came.
SIXTEEN - Creation
Macros opened his eyes.
The sorcerer had entered a trance within minutes of discovering they were in the time trap, and had been motionless since. After watching him for several hours, Pug and Tomas had grown bored and turned their attentions to other matters. They had tried to discover all they could about the Garden, but as it was a mixture of alien plant and animal life, much of what they saw was difficult to understand. After what seemed days of exploration, the sorcerer hadn’t stirred and they had resigned themselves to waiting.
“I think I’ve thought of a solution,” Macros said, stretching. “How long have I been in trance?”
Tomas, who sat nearby on a large rock, said, “I estimate about a week.”