The only thing that had kept the invaders from being overwhelmed was the breastwork of tables they had erected, for every soldier of Olasko who tried to come over it was killed. A mercenary next to Quint winced visibly every time a shaft struck the wood or the wall behind him. “We going to find a way out of this, Captain?” he asked.
“Damn me if I know,” answered Quint. “But I’m getting pretty bored just sitting here.” He glanced around. “Here, help me push this table farther out.” He motioned to another pair of men to help him. They moved the table forward about four feet, and Quint signaled for some other men to do likewise with the tables on either side. Soon they had enough room for an additional dozen men to crawl out of the pantry and prepare for another assault.
Just as Quint was getting ready to charge, a voice shouted out, “You dogs ready to surrender?”
Quint shouted back, “Who died and put you in charge, Alexi?”
There was a moment of silence, then the voice said, “Quint? Is that you?”
“None other,” shouted Quint.
“We thought you’d be dead by now.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but I had other plans.”
“The Duke will reward me greatly if I bring him your head, my captain.”
“All you have to do is come get it,” shouted the former Special Captain of the Olaskon army. When no answer was forthcoming, he added, “Or perhaps you’d like to talk about things first?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Parley.”
Again there was silence, then the officer named Alexi said, “I can hear you just fine from here. Speak your mind.”
“A couple of thousand Keshian Dog Soldiers should be through your gates by now, Alexi. There are two other companies of mercenaries already in the citadel and more coming though from tunnels back behind you every minute. You may have us bottled up here, but I’ll warrant if you send runners, you’ll find that other units are hard pressed on all fronts. You can’t win. But if you call a halt to the fighting, you and your men can live.”
“And if I call a halt to the fighting and you’re telling tales, the Duke will have my guts for garters.”
“Send runners. Ask for intelligence. I can wait.” Quint grinned at the soldiers nearby. “I’m not in a hurry as long as my side’s winning.”
There was a very long silence, then the officer named Alexi said, “You’re a lot of things, Captain Quint, but you’ve never been a liar. What terms are you offering?”
“We’ve no issue with men who are only following orders. Put down your weapons and you’ll be paroled. I don’t know who’s going to be running things after this is over, but whoever it is, he’ll need soldiers to keep the peace in Olasko. There you have it. Wait, and when the other companies start breaking down the doors at your back, we’ll come over these damn tables. If you surrender now, everyone gets to live another day. We can even sit down and have an ale together when the dust settles. What’ll it be?”
“I’ll send runners, Quint, and I’ll tell my men not to shoot as long as you stay down behind those tables. Agreed?”
“Agreed!” Quint put his sword away, indicating to his men that they could relax and lie down for a while without worry. “This may work out well,” he whispered. He ventured a look and saw that the bowmen had put their bows down and were leaning on them, while the crossbowmen had lowered their weapons. He sat back. “Hope things are going this well elsewhere,” he said.
Twenty
Resolution
Tal watched.
Leso Varen approached slowly, the dagger hanging loosely in his grip. Tal felt pain in every part of his body, but it was manageable, less than he had endured after his rescue by Pasko and Robert, less than when he had been attacked by the death-dancers, less than when his arm had been cut off. He focused on that, that he had endured more pain and lived.
He drew strength from within and waited, for he knew he would get only one opportunity to strike at the magician. Tal let his head loll as if he had no strength to raise it.
Varen ignored the other soldiers nearby. When he got close, he said, “Talwin, I am impressed. You’re far more resilient than I would have thought.