The shaft disappeared in the direction of the nearest tower. With sinking heart, I strained my eyes trying to track its flight.
There was a man standing on the tower’s platform, his standard leaning against the railing beside him. Suddenly, his standard toppled over, apparently breaking off a handspan from its crosspiece. The man bent and retrieved the bottom portion of the pole, staring with apparent confusion at the broken end.
“Any other targets?” Ajax asked.
He was leaning casually on his bow, his back to the tower. He hadn’t even bothered watching to see if his missile struck its mark.
“Um .. . not just now, Ajax,” I assured him. “Go back to sleep.”
“Fine by me, sonny,” Ajax smiled, resettling him self. “There’ll be plenty of targets tomorrow.”
“How do you figure that?” I asked.
“According to that signal I just cut down,” he grinned, “the army’s fixin’ to move out tomorrow.”
“You can read the signals?” I blinked.
“Sure,” Ajax nodded. “There’re only about eight different codes armies use, and I know ‘em all. It’s part of my trade.”
“And they’re moving out tomorrow?” I pressed.
“That’s what I said.” The bowman scowled. “What’s the matter, are you deaf?”
“No,” I assured him hastily. “It just changes our plans is all. Go back to sleep.”
Returning to our little conference, I found Aahz and Tanda engrossed in a conversation with Brockhurst.
“Bad news, kid,” Aahz informed me. “Brockhurst here says the army’s going to move out tomorrow.”
“I know,” I said. “I just found out from Ajax. Can you read the signal flags too, Brockhurst?”