“My lord,” said Erik, “I have no ambitions in this. I am a reluctant Captain, but I serve to my utmost. If you wish to replace me and have me serve at the van of my men, I will acknowledge your orders and depart immediately to fulfill whatever mission you name.”
The old man studied Erik a while longer, then said, “That won’t be necessary, Erik. Just tell me what’s going on.”
Erik nodded. He outlined his fears and Greylock’s, that they were being lulled by a series of modest defenses to have them charge foolishly into Fadawah’s real southern position. Erik pointed to a stack of parchments. “Subai’s messages are there, sir, and I suggest you read them.” Erik pointed to the map on the table before Earl Richard. “We’re here, and about here”—his finger jumped up the map about sixty miles—”we should hit the first serious defensive position. If what Subai writes is accurate, it’s going to be hell to pay getting to Ylith.”
“I assume you’ve considered all the alternatives, landing on Free Cities soil and attacking from the west, attempting to land outside the harbor, and the rest?”
Erik nodded.
“I’ll want you to cover those discarded options for me later, just in case I might think of something you and Owen missed, but I’m certain you didn’t miss anything. Assuming that’s true, what do we do next?”
Erik said, “I want to take a patrol and go north, and see how far I can get before things get nasty. I want to see what Subai saw, my lord.”
Richard, Earl of Makurlic, said nothing for a long moment, his mind weighing options, then he said, “I sent a letter to Prince Patrick, asking him to relieve me of this command, but until he does, I suppose I should act like a commander.
“Here’s what you do. Send those Hadati hillmen ahead up the right flank. They can move through the hills better than anyone we have. Have them leave at once. Then send a company of your Crimson Eagles up the left flank, along the coast but out of sight.
“Then at first light tomorrow, I want you and my son to lead a patrol of cavalry up the highway. Be as loud and careless as you wish.”
Erik nodded. “That should flush out anyone looking to lay an ambush.”
“If the Gods were kinder, you’d all ride into Ylith at the same time and hoist an ale. The Gods, however, have been short on kindness toward the Kingdom of late.” He looked up and saw Erik still standing there. “Well, go, dismissed, whatever it is I’m supposed to say.”
Erik grinned at the old man. “Yes, sir,” he said with a salute, and he was off.
Talwin signaled from outside the building and Dash waved a reply through the open front door. He then motioned with his hand indicating Talwin and the men next to him should circle around the next block of buildings and come up behind the men they stalked. Their targets, four men who had been waiting for a fifth for the last half hour, were gathered together in a workyard behind an abandoned shop in the poor quarter. Talwin vanished into the night with his men.
It had taken Dash, with the help of the Mockers, a week to discover this meeting place. Talwin had identified three men who were very likely to be Keshian agents, and the fourth was either another agent or their employee. Dash had overheard enough snippets of conversation to know they were getting restless waiting for someone and would soon leave if that person didn’t show up.
Dash wanted Talwin and the two constables with him ready to come in from the other side of the yard, through a broken-down fence next to an alley. Dash and his men were in an old shop, hiding by hanging above the main floor in the rafters. A glance into the murk of the shop’s ceiling showed his three men crouched uncomfortably on the roof beam. He’d better get them down soon, he thought, or they’d be too stiff to move.
Dash motioned and the three men hung from their fingers, then dropped quietly to the floor. Dash crouched low so as not to alert the men out back, as he was closest to the open door.
“He’s not coming,” said one of the four men, a muscular man dressed like a common laborer. “We should split up and meet somewhere else tomorrow.”
“Maybe they got him,” a second man said; he was diin and dangerous-looking, and bore a sword and dagger at his belt.
“Who?” asked the first man.
“Who do you think?” offered the first man. “The Prince’s men.”
“They’d have to be quicker than they’ve been so far,” came the voice of a man ducking into view from the next building. “You almost got nicked,” he said.
“What do you mean?” asked the first man.
“I saw constables hurrying away from just in front of this building. They looked like they was looking through the door. They must have just missed you all.”
Dash decided it was time. He pulled his sword and ran from his hiding place, his three constables behind him. The first man turned and fled, running right into Talwin as he climbed through a large hole in the fence. “Put down your weapons!” Dash commanded.