“Perhaps,” Okatar muttered. “Perhaps.”
“Still,” Merdon said, “I will check with my people to see if they can shed any light on this.”
“Good.”
“The attack is still set for dawn?”
Okatar nodded.
“All right. I’d better get down there with my men.”
Merdon turned away and left the scene of the fire. Okatar gestured to the warrior at the light, and the Komani turned it off.
“Do you believe him?” asked one of the nobles.
“Of course not,” Okatar replied. “There were six Shinarians present when I sentenced the Watchman to death: Merdon, his four underlings, and that priest. Send a man to check on each of them. If any one of them is missing, your man is to find him—no matter where on Shinar he may be, and when he finds him—kill him.”
“It shall be done.”
IX
The Hours Before Dawn
Brigadier Aikens sat in frowning silence for a moment as the Star Watchman stood before him. Vorgens looked bedraggled and utterly worn. His uniform was torn and grimy. There was an angry red bum on his right cheek.
Finally the brigadier hunched over his desk and jabbed a finger at Vorgens. “Do you seriously expect me to beheve this story?”
“Sir, if my word is not—”
“I don’t doubt your word. Watchman. It’s your judgment.” Aikens grinned humorlessly. “Befriended by a native priest. Rescued from a firing squad. Tipped off to the Komani strategy and shown a route by which we can escape. Use your head, boyl You’ve been hoodwinked.”
“I can’t believe that, sir,” Vorgens said quietly, “I know what I saw.”
Aikens ran a hand over his balding dome. “All right, what did you see? That the barbarians have more men and equipment than we thought? That some of the natives are on their side? That we can’t count on reinforcements from the city garrisons? So what? It makes no difference on the military situation here.”