He entered a room. He was in the citadel proper. Three walls had been chiseled out of the rock, but the far wall was made from mortar-set stones around a door. He opened the door in that wall and looked down a deserted hallway.
Tal quickly inspected the route and reached the last door he would open, for after this room came a part of the stronghold that might be in use: a short auxiliary pantry that led to the stairs he would have to use to get into the heart of the citadel. This was the pantry farthest off the kitchen, and while it was rarely occupied, occasionally someone came down to refill salt cellars from the large barrels kept there. He took out a red rag and a heavy tack, and pinned the rag to the door.
He then started backtracking, putting rags on every door his forces would pass through.
At one junction, he put up two rags, one red, one blue, and then moved off in a different direction. An hour later a second path had been marked in blue.
By the time he returned to where the vanguard of his army waited, three routes up into the citadel would be marked. John Creed would lead a force up along the yellow path, into the marshaling yard via a postern gate entrance, opening into the bailey between the outer walls and the citadel itself. His job would be to attack the wall from inside, in support of the Keshian soldiers attacking from the city.
Quint Havrevulen would lead the second column, coming up along the blue path, directly into the armory, attacking the main strength of the forces inside the citadel. He would most likely be the first of the three of them to face the main strength of Kaspar’s forces.
Tal’s task was the most dangerous, for he was to lead an assault along the red path into Leso Varen’s apartments. He knew it earned him a good chance of a quick and messy death. He had argued with himself over this choice, but felt he could not order any other man to do it. Additionally, he now realized that with victory in sight, he no longer cared. All he felt was cold inside. For years he had anticipated the day when he would crush Kaspar and let him know why he was being destroyed. The thought of revenge on his enemies no longer gave him comfort. In fact, it felt just the opposite. Vengeance had started to lose its appeal after the death of Raven.
Years spent in anticipation of this moment now seemed somehow wasted. In the short time before committing himself to an all-or-nothing gamble, he wished more than anything that he could just walk away. He thought of all he had lost, all he had let go in the past without thought because of his determination to punish Kaspar.
Now he wondered what use it would be. For Kaspar’s death would not bring back his father, Elk’s Call at Dawn, or his mother, Whisper of the Night Wind. His brother, Hand of the Sun, and his little sister Miliana would remain dead. The only time he would hear the voice of his grandfather, Laughter in His Eyes, would be in his memory. Nothing would change. No farmer outside Krondor would suddenly stand up in wonder and say, “A wrong has been righted.” No boot-maker in Roldem would look up from his bench and say, “A people has been avenged.”
If he could just expunge Kaspar with a thought, he would gladly turn away from the slaughter to come. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of men and women were about to die, and not one in a thousand would have an inkling of why their lives were ending. Not one of them would understand that they were dying because a boy had survived the obliteration of his people and an ambitious man had made a pact with an evil magician.
Tal sighed. Try as he might, he could not hate Kaspar or Quint any more than he could hate a bear for acting like a bear. They were creatures of their own nature. With Kaspar, that meant he was sick with ambition and devoid of scruples. With Quint, it meant he followed orders blindly and did as he was told, no matter how repugnant and without morality those orders might be.
Yet now Tal was using one of those men’s natures to help destroy the other. He found the irony far from amusing.
He returned to the vanguard and found that his officers had all made their way to the front. Quint said, “We’re all in place and ready.”
Tal sat on the stones. “So, now we wait.”
The cellar was empty, and Tal motioned his men to follow to the far end. He pushed open the door and in the distance could hear faint noises. Nothing very distinct, but he knew it was the echoes of men and women in the citadel rushing to whatever place was appointed them during battle. Soldiers would man their posts, while servants would hurry to prepare everything required to withstand the assault: food, blankets, water, sand to fight fires, and bandages and unguents for the wounded.