“Possibly, but it’s a job for the Pathfinders. They are very good at that sort of thing.”
“The Pathfinders are going around the eastern end of the line, up the hills and north; Subai’s got messages to get to Yabon.”
“Well, then, do we have anyone else in camp who might be foolish enough to swim over here and climb those rocks for a little hand-to-hand mayhem?”
Erik looked at Jadow, then said, “I think I may have just the lot.”
Owen said, “Let me get this straight. You want me only to hit them with probing attacks tomorrow?”
Erik pointed along the line of defense freshly drawn on Owen’s map. “We’re going to bleed if we storm that wall. We can put that off a day or two longer. But if I can get up over the cliff, open the gate so you can get inside, we can shorten this attack by days. And we’ll save a lot of men’s lives.”
“But if you don’t get to the gate, you’re going to get yourself chopped up,” said Owen.
Erik said, “Last time I looked, no one promised a soldier he would live forever.”
Owen closed his eyes, then said, “Life used to be much easier when you were shoeing horses and I was teaching Otto’s other sons how to hold a sword.”
Erik sat down and said, “I won’t argue that.”
Owen said, “So, who are you taking with you? Climbing those cliffs will be dangerous . . . or am I stating the obvious?”
“You are,” said Erik with a smile. He took a mug of wine offered him by an orderly, then said, “Akee and his Hadatis just showed up this morning. They’re the best climbers we have.”
Owen nodded approval. “That they are. And a handy bunch with a sword, as I recall.”
“Very.”
“Well, I was going to send them along the ridge route, but if I give Subai all the Pathfinders, he stands a better chance of getting through to Yabon.”
“I haven’t read the rolls of the fallen. How many Pathfinders have we left?”
“Too few. We have too few of everyone,” said Owen. “We lost more men of quality at Darkmoor and Nightmare Ridge than the Gods should fairly ask of us. We are moving with the heart of the Army of the West, and if we fall, there’s nothing left.” He sighed. “Subai has fourteen Pathfinders left in his entire command.”
“Fourteen?” Erik shook his head and his expression was one of regret. “He had over a hundred before the war.”
“Those trackers and scouts are rare men,” said Owen. “You don’t train them overnight like your band of cutthroats.”
Erik smiled. “My cutthroats have proven themselves more times than any other unit in this army. And we’ve lost more of the Eagles than I care to think about.” For a moment he reflected on the men whom he had served with during two voyages to Novindus, Luis and Roo, Nakor and Sho Pi, and those fallen at the battles along the way—Billy Goodwin, who fell off his horse and broke his head, Biggo the pious brawler, and Harper, who was twice the sergeant Erik had ever been, among many others. And most of all, one man. “As much as I wish Calis was still leading this bunch instead of myself,” he said to Owen, “more than any other, I’d give half my remaining years to have Bobby de Loungville back.”
Owen raised his wine cup. “Amen to that, my boy. Amen to that.” He drank. “But he’d be proud of you, no doubt.”
Erik said, “When this is over, and we start taking men down to Novindus, I want to find that ice cave and bring Bobby home.”
Owen said, “Men have done crazier things before. But dead is dead, and buried is buried, Erik. Of all the men who fell, why Bobby?”
“Because he was Bobby? Most of us wouldn’t be alive today save for what he taught us, we in the Eagles. Calis was our Captain, but Bobby was our soul.”
“Well, if you can get the Prince to release you from duty for a time, maybe you can do it. Me, I’ll be asking him to promote you again to take some weight off my shoulders.”
“Thanks, but I’ll refuse.”
Owen said, “Why? You’ve got a wife, and I expect someday children, and a promotion means more money as well as rank.”
“I’m not worried about money. I mean, I have enough, even if the investments that Roo’s made for me don’t work out. I’ll take care of Kitty and any children, but I just don’t want to become a staff officer.”
Grey lock said, “There won’t be much need for captains once the war is over, Erik. The nobility will again come to the fore and start taking care of keeping the peace.”
Erik shook his head. “Idon’t think that’s wise. I think the Riftwar and this war show we need a larger standing army. With Kesh again making moves along the South, and with as many casualties as we’ve taken, I think the Prince needs more men under arms at all times than we’ve had before here in the West.”
“You’re not the first to say that,” said Owen, “but the politics . . . the nobles will never stand for it.”
“They will if the King orders it,” said Erik. “And someday Patrick will be King.”
“Now there’s a chilling thought,” joked Owen.