“Because you’re the only one here who knows about... magic, and the Priests of the Black, and all that damned nonsense.” He handed her the page. “I got this, in secret, from Janus. When he came to talk to me on the bridge.”
Cyte blinked, and read the note. He couldn’t see it from where he was standing, but Marcus had read the thing so often he had it memorized. It was written in a slightly awkward hand, sometimes running letters together, sometimes stretching them out. Some of the sentences were at an angle, or above or below their neighbors, giving the impression of something that had been written in fragments by someone who couldn’t see what he was doing. But the writing was Janus’. Marcus would have known that careful script anywhere. It read,
Marcus—
I must beg your forgiveness. I have very limited freedom of action, and my mind is not my own. This note is a risk, but I must reach you.
Winter is the key. I am trying to bring him to Vordan City. Find him, help him, trust his judgment. He understands what needs to be done.
Know that I am doing what I can. The Beast is watching.
—?J
“I don’t understand,” Cyte said. She let the note fall to the table, and Marcus saw her hand was trembling. “Janus gave you this?”
“In secret.”
“Who could have been watching? You were alone!”
“I know,” Marcus said. “When we stormed Satinvol, I... saw something.” He described, as calmly as he could, what had happened in the final assault, the girl who had turned on him with her eyes glowing red. Cyte didn’t immediately tell him he was insane, which he guessed was a good sign.
“At first I wondered if I’d just remembered it wrong,” Marcus said. “Things happen, in battle. Or maybe she was a genuine traitor. But that light...” He shook his head. “Then I got this. So what if it’s true? What if there is some kind of demon, something that can control people?”
“The Beast,” Cyte said flatly. “As in the Beast of Judgment?”
“Maybe.”
Cyte looked down at the note, expressions warring on her face. “It could be lies,” she said carefully. “Maybe Janus has truly gone mad.”
“It’s possible. An aftereffect of the poison.” Marcus sighed. “If not, though, it explains why he would do all of this. ‘My mind is not my own.’ Something is using him.”
“If it’s not madness, then Winter is still alive,” Cyte said. Her hand tightened on the edge of the table. “He’s alive.”
“I know.”
There was a long silence.
“I have to go to Vordan City,” Cyte said. “I have to know. If he... If he needs help, then I should be there.”
“The question is,” Marcus said, “how do we get there?”
He gestured down at the map. From their current position on the Rhyf, it was a little more than four hundred miles to Vordan City in a straight line. Unfortunately, that line crossed the densest and most impenetrable part of the Illifen Range. The shortest route, through the passes they’d crossed by on the way west, meant going through Janus’ army. That left the south, skirting the edge of the mountains before turning east to slog across the Vor valley. Call it six hundred miles.
“At any kind of reasonable pace, it would take months,” Marcus said, as Cyte’s brow furrowed in concentration. “Even forcing the marches with plenty of food, forty or forty-?five days, and there’s no way this army could sustain that.”
Cyte said nothing. Marcus put a finger on their current position, then shifted it north slightly, toward where Janus’ army was lurking.
“There’s another problem,” he said. “I think Janus isn’t following us anymore.”
She looked up. “The scouts reported enemy cavalry looking for us.”
“They’re not pushing hard enough. If he really meant to hit us here, he’d be searching for a place to cross the river, and he wouldn’t let us brush him off. It’s possible he’s looping around our flank, or pulling some maneuver I haven’t thought of, but I wouldn’t bet on it.” He traced a line north, toward the passes. “I think he’s left a cavalry force and some blocking troops, and taken the bulk of his army toward Vordan City.”
“Which means that it’s not just a matter of getting there,” Cyte said. “We have to make it before Janus if we’re going to do any good.”
“It’s not possible,” Marcus said flatly. “He’s got the inside track, and we’re not going to be able to outmarch him.”
“Then what?”
“If we want to keep him out of Vordan City, there’s only one thing I can think of.” He tapped the map. “We attack. Whatever Janus has left in front of us, we smash it, and threaten to come down on his rear. He’ll either have to turn around and fight, or let us cut off his supply line in the pass.”
“Now you’re sounding like Kurot,” Cyte said. “I don’t think Janus is worried about supply lines. He can live off the land, the same as us.”
“It might be harder in the mountains.” Marcus pursed his lips. “If he keeps marching, we can stay behind him. If the forces in Vordan City can hold him up at all, we might be able to catch him between us.”
“Or,” Cyte said, “he’ll get irritated and annihilate us. Considering he has something like double our numbers.”
“That’s the downside,” Marcus admitted. “It would slow him a bit, but...”
“I have another idea,” Cyte said. “But I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
“I’m listening,” Marcus said.
“We head downriver until we find a boat. Take it to the Pale, and down to Enzport. Get a ship there, sail around the coast and up the Vor to Vordan City. It’d be a hell of a lot faster than marching overland.”
“Faster for a few, maybe. There probably aren’t enough boats on the Rhyf to get us to Enzport, and there definitely aren’t enough ships at Enzport to get us to Vordan. Not after the war and the Borel blockade.”
“I know.” Cyte locked eyes with him. “You and I could go. A few soldiers you trust. Leave the army with Fitz.”
“I can’t abandon my men,” Marcus said. The response was almost automatic. “Certainly not with the enemy still just over the river.”
“You said yourself that you didn’t think Janus was following us.”
“I could be wrong!”
“If they do attack, would Fitz do a worse job than you would?”
He’d probably do better. Marcus shook his head. “That’s not the point. It’s my responsibility.”
Cyte nodded, as though she’d expected that, and took a deep breath. “Then I’ll go.”
“Alone?”
“If necessary. Or with a small escort, if you’d like to assign one.”
Marcus frowned and scratched his beard. “The army needs you, too.”
“Someone has to act on this.” Cyte pushed the note across the map. “That’s why you brought me here, isn’t it?”
“I needed another perspective—”
“And I need to find Winter,” Cyte said. There was a quiet desperation under her controlled voice. “Please, Marcus.”
Was this what I had in mind all along? Marcus sighed. “Have Abby give you an escort. However many you think you’ll need. I’ll write you orders authorizing you to requisition any form of transport you need, for however much that’s worth, and as much gold as I’ve got on hand.”