Just before dawn on the morning of the fourth day, Vint left his quarters in the palace and strolled the half-mile to the northern wall. A cold wind was blowing down from the mountains and he held his sheepskin cloak tightly around his slim frame. Passing the old barracks building, he saw three men hauling a hand-cart on which was set a metal drum, and the smell of hot onion soup drifted to him.
As he neared the gates he saw scores of workmen laying stone walls across the entrances to the alleyways leading off from the main avenue. Karis and Ozhobar were moving among them, checking the work. Vint walked past them, trying to control his feeling of irritation. Karis had not invited him to her bed in days. His annoyance surprised him. He was not in love with her, nor had he any wish to build a lasting relationship. What then? he wondered, as he climbed the rampart steps. The answer was not hard to find. He smiled ruefully. She is not in love with you either. It was a blow to the morale to be so casually discarded.
At the top of the steps he saw the sentries squatting down below the ramparts, hiding from the bitter bite of the north wind. ‘Soup is on its way, lads,’ he said.
‘Not onion again, sir, is it?’ asked one veteran.
‘I am afraid so!’
The dawn sun crept into view, its rays cutting through the wind. ‘Are the scouts back?’ he asked.
‘Not yet, sir. They should be in sight any time now.’
Vint turned towards the north, scanning the hills. Nothing was moving there. Glancing back, he saw Karis striding across the avenue with the huge form of Ozhobar
beside her. Her dark hair was drawn back into a tight ponytail, and she was wearing a rust-coloured tunic of wool, and green leggings; a wide leather belt emphasized the slimness of her waist. How many women have you discarded in a similar fashion? Vint asked himself, trying to ease his troubled mind.
‘Why are they doing that, sir?’ asked a young soldier, coming alongside him and pointing to the workmen building new walls to block the alleyways.
Vint swung on the man. ‘The Daroth can read minds,’ he said. ‘Do you think that it is a good idea to voice such questions?’
‘I don’t see as it makes a lot of difference,’ replied the soldier, with a shrug. ‘We’re not going to stop them with a few stones. Nor crossbows. Nor catapults. They butchered thirty thousand people at Prentuis. The entire city – and its army. They’ll do the same here.’
‘Then why do you stay?’
‘It’s what I’m paid for,’ said the soldier grimly.
‘Have you ever served with Karis?’ asked Vint.
‘No, but I know men who have and they say she’s never lost. But then she’s never faced a Daroth army either.’
‘She will surprise them,’ said Vint.
‘Really? I don’t think so. She told one of the scouts about a group of wizards who are going to destroy the Daroth. He was simple-minded and believed every word. Wizards! You think if we had anything that powerful we wouldn’t have gone out after them? You think we’d be shut in here building pigging walls?’ The soldier brought his hand up to his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Vint.
‘Stinking headache,’ said the man. ‘It’s this wind.’
Sudden pain struck Vint. Grabbing the man, he hauled him below the ramparts.
‘What are you doing?’ shouted the soldier, angrily.
‘Where is your head pain now?’ snapped Vint.
The man blinked. ‘Well, it’s gone,’ he said.
Vint swore and then, keeping low, he moved to the steps and ran down to where Karis and Ozhobar were standing. ‘Can we talk?’ he asked her. Together they moved away from the group and Vint told her about the exchange with the soldier.
‘I’m surprised it held them this long,’ she said, turning away.
‘You sent out a man knowing he would be taken by the Daroth? I hope you had the decency to bed him first.’
Her eyes were cold as she stepped closer to him. ‘No, Vint, I liked him. It is a rule of mine never to bed a man I like.’ Swinging away from him, she called out to Necklen. ‘Find your crew, old man. The Daroth are coming!’