Arutha signalled, and the sergeant said, “We’ve had soldiers from Highcastle drifting in for the last half day. They’re being given compound in the marshalling yard. The Baron wants to see whoever’s in charge of this lot.”
“Tell him I’m on my way as soon as these men are quartered.”
“And who should I tell him that is?”
“Arutha of Krondor.”
The man’s mouth opened. “But . . .”
“I know, I’m dead. Still, tell Baron Humphry I’ll be up to his keep within the hour. And tell him I’ve Guy du Bas-Tyra with me. Then send a runner to the marshalling yard and find out if Baldwin de la Troville and Anthony du Masigny are safely here. If so, have them join me.”
The sergeant was motionless for a moment, then saluted. “Yes, Highness!”
Arutha signalled for his column to enter the city, and for the first time in months saw the normal sights of the Kingdom, a city busy with the business of citizens who thought they were safely kept from harm by a benevolent monarch. The streets thronged with people busy with the concerns of the market, commerce, and celebration. In every direction Arutha could see only the commonplace, the expected, the mundane. How soon that would change.
Arutha ordered the gates closed. For the last week those who had chosen to take their chances and flee southward had been allowed to leave. Now the city was to be sealed. More messages had been sent, by pigeon and riders, to the garrisons at Malac’s Cross, Silden, and Darkmoor, against the possibility of the other messages not reaching those commanders. Everything that could be done had been done, and all they could do was wait.
The scouts who had been positioned to the north had reported that Murmandamus’s army was now completely in control of the Dimwood. Every farm between the woodlands and the city had been evacuated and all the inhabitants brought inside the walls. The Prince had instructed everyone to follow a strict schedule. All food was brought to Sethanon, but when time ran out, Arutha had ordered every farm put to the torch. The fall crops not yet harvested were fired, and unpicked gardens were dug up or poisoned and all herds too distant to be brought to the city were ordered scattered to the south and east. Nothing was left behind to aid the advancing host. Reports from the soldiers who had reached Sethanon indicated that at least thirty of Murmandamus’s caches of stores had been discovered and looted or destroyed. Arutha harboured no illusions. At best he had stung the invaders, but no real damage had been accomplished save inconvenience.
Arutha sat in council with Amos, Guy, the officers from Highcastle, and Baron Humphry. Humphry sat in his armour - uncomfortably, for it was a gaudy contraption of fluted scrollwork, designed for show and not for combat - his golden plumed helm held before him. He had readily acknowledged Arutha’s preemption of his command, for given its location, the garrison of Sethanon lacked any real battlefield commanders. Arutha had installed Guy, Amos, de la Troville, and du Masigny in key positions. They sat reviewing the disposition of troops and stores. Arutha concluded reading the list and spoke. “We could withstand an army of Murmandamus’s size up to two months, under normal circumstances. With what we saw at Armengar and Highcastle, I’m sure the circumstances will not be normal. Murmandamus must be within the city by two weeks, three at longest; otherwise he faces the possibility of an early freeze. The rainy fall weather is beginning, which will slow his assaults, and once winter comes, he’ll find a starving army under his command. No, he must quickly enter Sethanon, and prevent us from using up or destroying our stores.
“If the very best of situations comes to pass, Martin will be now leaving the foothills of the Calastius Mountains below Hawk’s Hollow with the army from Yabon, upward of six thousand soldiers. But he’ll be at least two weeks away. We might see soldiers from North warden or from Silden about the same time, but at best we must hold for no less than two weeks and perhaps as long as four. Any longer, and help will be too slow in coming.”
He rose. “Gentlemen, all we may do now is wait for the enemy to come. I suggest we rest and pray.”
Arutha walked out of the conference room. Guy and Amos came after. All paused, as if considering what they had been through so far, then drifted off their separate ways, to wait for the attackers.
EIGHTEEN - Homeward