I looked them over, Blade, Swan, Ram, Narayan, the two arm-holders. Seven of us. As Swan had observed, the obligatory number for a company on quest. A totally mixed bag. By his own standards each was a good person. By the standards of others everyone, excepting Swan, was a villain.

Lets go, then. Before I grew too philosophical.

We did not have to talk about it. We had rehearsed farther away. There would be no chatter to alert Shadowspinner.

It was a slovenly encampment. It screamed demoralization. But for Spinner my ragbag army could have beaten those Shadowlanders. And they knew it. They were waiting for the hammer to fall.

We passed within yards of pickets who sat facing a fire and grumbling. Their language resembled Taglian. I could understand them when they were not excited.

They were demoralized, all right. They were discussing men they knew who had deserted. There seemed to be a lot of those and plenty of sentiment for following their example.

Narayan had the point. He trusted no one else to find his way. He came sliding into the hollow where we waited. In a whisper that did not carry three feet he told me, There are prisoners in a pen to the left, there. Taglian. Several hundred.

I turned that over in my mind. How could I use them? There was potential for a diversion there. But I did not need one. Did you talk to them?

No. They might have given us away.

Yes. Well stick to the mission.

Narayan went ahead. He found us another lurking place. I began to sense Shadowspinners nearness. He did not radiate much energy for a power of his magnitude. Till then I had been sure only that he was in the camp. Over there.

The big tent? Narayan asked.

I think.

We moved closer. I saw that Shadowspinner felt no need for guards. Maybe he thought he was his own best guard. Maybe he did not want anyone that close while he was asleep.

We crouched in a pool of darkness, a dozen feet from the tent. One fire burned on its far side. No light came from within. I eased my blade out of its scabbard. Blade, Swan, Ram, be ready to cover us if something goes wrong. Hell. If anything went wrong we were dead. And we all knew it.

Mistress! Ram protested. His voice threatened to rise.

Stay put, Ram. And dont give me an argument.

Wed had the argument already. He did not give up. I moved forward. Narayan and his arm-holders drifted with me. So did the smell of fear.

I paused two feet from the tent, drew my blade down the canvas. It cut without a whisper. An arm-holder widened the slash enough for Narayan to slip through. The other followed, I went next, then the first arm-holder.