Across the field, the Arduan archer Fianna stood like a statue in the lowering twilight, longbow drawn in a strained arch, holding the taut string close to her ear. Her figure had an unearthly beauty in the gloaming. Carfax stared at her, thinking of girls he had known, of one he had hoped to wed, long ago. Of how she had laughed and wrinkled her freckled nose when he brushed it with the tip of a goldenrod in full bloom, dusting her skin with pollen. What would he have done, had he known he had so little time? The Archer released her string and her bow hummed. Somewhere unseen, a rabbit squealed, the sound cut short.

Blaise repeated the question, still watching him. “Why do you smile, Staccian?”

“To make a friend of death,” Carfax answered.

FIFTEEN

FIFTEEN

“THEY’RE COMING.”

Lilias frowned at her Ward Commander. “How soon?”

“Thirty days.” He paused. “Less, if the winds blow fair from Port Eurus”

The weight of the Soumanië made her head ache. Strange, how something so light could weigh so heavy! And yet, how not, when she had had been shifting a mountain with it. Lilias grimaced, pressing her fingertips to her temples. The Beshtanagi sunlight seemed cursedly bright. “And the Pelmarans?”

“Assembling at Kranac, to await the Allies’ arrival.” Gergon cleared his throat. “Regent Heurich has agreed to send a force.”

“How long can we hold them?”

“It depends upon their numbers, among other things.” He nodded at the southernmost passage, where workers piled boulders on either side of the opening. “How fast can you seal that breach, my lady?”

Lilias considered the gap in the high granite wall that enfolded the base of Beshtanag Mountain. Beyond lay the forest, spreading its dense apron of dark green. It was through those trees that her enemies would come, in greater numbers than she had reckoned. “Can we not seal it now and be done with it?”

“No.” Gergon looked regretful. “We’ve too many men to feed and water, and too few resources on the mountain. Our stores would not last. After ten days’ time, we would begin to starve. If the …” He cleared his throat again. “ … if the Were give ample warning, you will have a day’s notice.”

“They will,” Lilias said, pacing a length of the Soumanië erected wall, her fingertips trailing along its smooth surface. “And I will. What the Were do not tell me, Calandor will. We are prepared, Ward Commander. If the raw materials are there, the breaches will be sealed, the gaps closed. In the space of a day, no less. So how long, Gergon, will this wall hold off Haomane’s Allies?”

He squinted at the fortress, perched atop the mountain. “Three days.”

“Three days?” She stared at him.