Winter closed her eyes and thought hard. She’d read the Vordanai army regulations cover to cover, back when she’d thought they would be important for impersonating a soldier. Since then she’d learned that it was a rare ranker who even glanced at that dusty tome, but some of it had stuck with her.
“There must be circumstances under which Kollowrath would have to hand over command,” she said. “If he were to be incapacitated with illness, say, authority would automatically descend to you as next ranking officer.”
Gorchov finished with the tea and handed Winter a tin cup, almost too hot to touch. She rested it on one knee, still watching the lieutenant.
“If... that were to happen,” Dobraev said, as though the words cost him a great deal, “then I would obviously have to evaluate the strategic situation. Including any intelligence about approaching enemy forces.”
“And, speaking purely hypothetically, would you be willing to grant your protection to a group of Trans-?Batariai?”
“In light of the... tragic incident this morning,” Dobraev said, “I would feel honor bound to offer my assistance.”
“Interesting,” Winter said.
“Hypothetically,” Dobraev said wretchedly. He glanced at Gorchov, who gave a shrug and handed him a tin cup.
Winter took a sip. The tea was really quite good.
*
“I’m sorry,” Winter told Abraham, outside the shack. “I know you don’t like doing this.”
He sighed. “My goal is to save lives. Sometimes, in pursuit of that, I am required to do... a little harm.” He flexed his fingers.
“You’re sure you can do it?”
“Oh, yes. The only delicate thing is making sure the illness isn’t a fatal one. Kollowrath seemed relatively young and fit?”
“From the little I saw of him.”
“I, for one, wouldn’t mind if you messed up,” Alex said. “If the fight this morning really was his fault.”
Winter had to admit she’d had that same thought. Maybe we shouldn’t have told Dobraev anything, and just made it look like Kollowrath died naturally. But there would have been no guarantee then that anyone would listen to them. And now we’ve tipped our hand. Dobraev is bright and honest. A dangerous combination, if he’s not on board.
“I’ll wait here,” Winter said. “Get it done as fast as you can. We’re running out of darkness.”
Alex nodded and loped off into the shadows, Abraham following at a more dignified pace. Winter settled her back against the palisade, staring up at the stone keep and fighting off exhaustion. She hadn’t slept since the previous evening, not counting a few hours of exhausted unconsciousness. Every part of her ached, and her eyelids kept slipping downward.
She caught a glimpse of a dark shape clinging to the outside of the keep, but only for a moment. Winter tried to calm her racing heart. Greatest thief in the world, remember? This is a walk in the park for her.
At some point she must have dozed, because the next thing she knew her eyes snapped open at the sounds of footsteps. Alex was returning, grinning like a cat, with Abraham in tow.
“No problem,” she said. “The shutters weren’t even locked. I swear, people put a guard at the door and think they’re safe; it’s ridiculous.”
“You did it?” Winter said.
Abraham nodded. “He’ll be unconscious for at least a few days, and feverish for a while after that. But he’ll live, if someone takes care of him.”
“I’m sure Lieutenant Dobraev will make sure that happens.”
“Now what?” Alex said.
Winter shook her head grimly. “Now for the hard part.”
*
Alex once again lifted them over the wall, this time without Abraham having to incapacitate a guard. They crossed the cleared ground around the fortress as dawn was breaking and regained the cover of the trees. Alex led the way to where the Haeta were waiting, gathered at the edge of the woods to gauge the Murnskai defenses.
“I don’t know what Vess has told them,” Winter said. “So be careful—”
Wham. A spear sprouted, as if by magic, from the trunk of a tree just beside Winter’s head, the shaft vibrating from the force of the throw. Two Haeta girls rose out of the underbrush, weapons ready. Alex raised her hands, but Winter threw up an arm to stop her.
“That was a warning,” one of the girls said. “In deference to what you did for us. Vess has said you are no longer welcome.”
“I need to speak with her,” Winter said. “Please.”
“She will not talk to you,” the girl said.
“Please,” Winter said. “You’re... Ceft, aren’t you? And Huld, I remember the story you told the night after the wolves. The sad one, about the girl and the wolf-?boy.”
Ceft lowered her spear a fraction. “She has made herself clear.”
“She’s not thinking straight, and she’s going to get you all killed,” Winter said. “You see that. There’s a hundred soldiers in that fortress, and hundreds more civilians. You can’t fight them all.”
“We can try,” Huld said.
“Just take me to Vess. That’s all I ask. If she doesn’t want to talk to me, that’s her decision.”
The pair looked at each other. Ceft nodded slowly.
“These two will remain,” she said. “Huld, watch them.”
“Winter?” Alex said. “I don’t like it. If Vess decides she wants to hold you responsible for Leti—”
“I know.”
“You have more than your own life to worry about,” Abraham said quietly. “Don’t forget that.”
“I know.” Rationally, this was a poor decision. We should have killed the guards, stolen a boat, and been away from here already. But Leti and the Haeta had helped her, and Leti had paid the price that people who helped her always seemed to pay. I’m not going to let her sister and her friends die, too. “I’ll be back soon.”
Ceft stowed her spear and led Winter on through the forest. More Haeta were waiting, resting against rocks and trees, eating what was left of their dried food, and maintaining their weapons. They all looked at Winter as she approached, though she couldn’t say what emotion she saw in their features. A few called to Ceft in their own language, but she waved them away.
“I told you she wasn’t welcome here.”
Vess was crouched in the dirt with two of the older warriors, sketching crude maps with a stick. She stood when she saw Winter, face frozen hard.
“I told her I wanted a chance to talk to you,” Winter said, before Vess could take out her anger on Ceft.
“Then you’ve wasted your time,” Vess said. “Leti listened to you and ended up dead. We’re done taking your advice.”
“So you’re going to get yourself killed instead?” Winter spoke loudly enough that the whole group could hear. “You know that attacking the fortress is suicide. You’re that eager to take a few Murnskai soldiers with you?”
“What choice do we have?” Vess snarled. “The red-?eyes are close behind us, and ahead is only the river. I would prefer to fight my sister’s killers and drag a few of them to hell than be devoured by demons.”
“The man who killed your sister is dead, Vess. Yath put a spear through his throat.” In truth, Winter didn’t know that for sure—?in the confusion of the fight, she had no idea whose shot had cut Leti down. “Yesterday morning was... awful. But it doesn’t mean every Murnskai soldier deserves to die, any more than you do for killing some of them.”