“That and more.” The general leaned over to point to the map again. “The bridal caravan will travel through Tegann.”
Duke Morrow D’Amiran’s stronghold. Quinn suddenly knew why Ash had been included in the meeting. “You want us to spy on the duke.”
“Discreetly, yes.”
Quinn wasn’t quite won over. “I don’t have much experience with that kind of spying, just land reconnaissance.”
“Then consider this your chance to learn something new,” his father said.
Quinn grimaced. Acquiring new skills had always been a top priority. Casseck called it his obsession. Father had framed it that way to trap him.
On the other hand, all the general had to do was issue an order. His father wanted him to embrace the mission, not just obey.
When Quinn didn’t object, the general smiled a little. “Whom do you want to take?”
Quinn folded his arms. “Can’t I just take my officers?”
“I’ve been going back and forth on that,” the general said. “On one hand, I don’t like Robert Devlin out of my sight. On the other, the prince is probably safer away from the border.”
“I won’t tell him you said that.”
The general continued, “Thirty men should be adequate to protect him, especially so deep in Demora, but I don’t want the fuss he’ll create, either.” He paused. “I leave it up to you.”
It may have been a bone thrown to make Quinn feel better, but he took it. “I don’t want to break up what we have, so I’ll take Rob, but give him a false name.”
“Very well, and keep him away from the ladies,” said his father, glancing out the open tent flap. “By the way, you’re taking Charlie, too.”
Quinn threw up his arms. “That just proves you’re sending me away from anything important.”
“Nonsense.” The general eased down into a chair. “You need a page along, and he asked to be assigned to you for his birthday gift. He’s good at his job.”
Yes, Charlie was competent, but Quinn wouldn’t be able to treat his brother like just any other page. It was hard enough giving commands to his closest friends, even orders they didn’t mind. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead, forgetting the wound and flinching back when pain shot through his temple. “Father, please reconsider. Carting these women around is bad enough. I feel like a nursemaid.”
“I’ll leave the decision to you, but he already knows, so you’ll have to be the one to break the news to him.”
Trapped. Again.
His father pulled a parchment closer to read and raised a hand in dismissal. “You have a lot of preparations to make, so I suggest you get started.”
Quinn retreated before things could get any worse.
10
CASSECK AND GRAMWELL had already spread out a map and were marking it with the places the bridal caravan would stop overnight. Robert and Ash wrote out lists of supplies and personnel. They all jumped to attention when Quinn walked in the tent, but he motioned for them to relax. “I guess everyone’s heard.”
Rob grinned. “As far as punishments go, it’s not too bad.”
Quinn shook his head. “Don’t get any ideas—you’re going under a false name. This is bigger than just an escort.”
Casseck raised a blond eyebrow. “Bigger how?”
“It’s an unofficial reconnaissance mission.” Quinn leaned over the map and traced his finger along the Tegann Road and tapped the fortress at the pass. “The general is particularly interested in what’s going on here.”
Rob’s eyes widened. “Is Duke D’Amiran up to something?”
“Possibly.” They had to approach this mission with a neutral mind-set, otherwise everything they observed would look like treason.
Ash offered Quinn the papers he’d ignored earlier. “Am I the lead scout in all this?”
“Yes,” said Quinn, taking the pages. Among them was a letter to his father from Crescera’s high matchmaker, Mistress Rodelle, detailing the arrangements she’d made for the journey. He scanned the precise handwriting, appreciating the logical way the information was presented. “We’ll be at Baron Underwood’s three nights, which is good. He’s a friend of the D’Amirans.”
Robert peered over his shoulder. “So is Lord Fashell near the end. All Tegann’s supplies come through his estate.”
Quinn chewed the inside of his cheek before looking up at Ash. “What do you think about making a contact in the ladies’ group, with a maid or something? She could feed you information we can’t observe.”
Ash made a face. “Can’t I do actual scouting this time? It’s damn stressful to be undercover that long.”
Quinn’s experience was limited to terrain scouting; Ash had always been the one to do the closer work of questioning people, using a carefully constructed story to gain their confidence. “Seems pretty easy to me.”
Ash shrugged. “Sometimes people get hurt.”
“Hurt? Picket duty is far more dangerous.”
“Not physically,” Ash said. “If the contacts find out you’re using them, it destroys everything you’ve built. And lying is lying. It never feels good.”
“What would you have me do?” Quinn asked. “Send someone with less experience?”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it, just that I’m getting tired of it. Besides”—Ash brightened—“the scenery will be nicer than I’m used to.”
The women. As a sergeant, Ash didn’t have to wait until he was twenty-four to marry like the officers. Though he was illegitimate—the result of the king’s liaison with a maid after the death of the first queen—few families would shun a chance to merge with the royals.
Quinn pulled his friend aside. “Are you interested in being matched?” he asked quietly.
“Maybe.” Ash avoided his eyes. “I don’t think a girl would look at me twice if she didn’t know who I was.” That no one looked at him twice was his biggest advantage in spying. He glanced at his brother. “Rob says he’ll wait for the next Concordium, unless Father says otherwise. What about you?”
Quinn’s own parents were a highly political match, and it had worked out well, but he’d always resisted the idea. He hated feeling like a sum of what he owned rather than a person. “I plan on avoiding it completely.”
“There’s more to life than the army, you know.”
Quinn didn’t want to talk about marriage. The letters from Mother on the subject lately were bad enough. “You’re my lead, then. Get your story ready, and make sure everyone knows it.”
Ash nodded and walked back to Robert. “Put me down as a wagon driver. Lower me to private, too. It’ll give me flexibility.”