Lionel lifted his cup in salute, then sipped at the hot tea.

“It is fortunate that our Lord of Marley chose to join us, Sire. He might have proven a troublesome opponent. He has an uncanny ability for making…creative use of all available resources.” Lionel’s dark eyes were capable of flaying a man with a glance when he was angered, but today they were warm, almost cordial, almost as though he and the young human lord had found some subtle bond of kinship. “Even I have learned from him, Sire,” Lionel added, almost as an afterthought.

“Have you, indeed?” Wencit chuckled gently.

Bran, basking in the approval of two Torenthi princes, took a careful sip of his steaming tea and relaxed, apparently unaware of the scrutiny he was receiving from Rhydon. After a silent moment while the four men drank, Rhydon spoke.

“Sire, it occurs to me that we have heard no report of the Cassani prisoners since their capture,” he said, eyeing Bran over the rim of his cup. “The diversion that Bran and my Lord Lionel have conceived is…ingenious. Would that I had thought of it myself. Most assuredly, the effect on morale among King Kelson’s supporters will be profound, if not shattering. But the Cassani prisoners—I would point out that some of them are of high rank, indeed, and exceedingly valuable. Or have plans been made for them of which I am not aware?”

Lionel chuckled, a low, dangerous sound, idly fingering the end of his braid. “You seem to suggest that Bran and I must justify our actions to you,” he said mildly. “However, you need not concern yourself with the plans for the Cassani prisoners.”

“Can it be that you expect my opposition, then?”

“I expect no interference from you,” Lionel said pointedly. “We have been given leave to use the prisoners to our best advantage—and that is precisely what we shall do. Other than that, you need know nothing more.”

Wencit smiled, vaguely amused by the exchange. “Now, Rhydon, you must not quarrel with my kinsman. Even I am not privy to all the details of this campaign; nor do I wish to be. I depend upon my lords of battle and advisors like Lionel to take care of those matters for me. I trust Lionel’s judgment just as I trust yours. And if he assures me that he is doing what is most expeditious, then I must assume that he is. Do you dispute me in this matter?”

“Of course not,” Rhydon replied, taking another sip of his darja. “It was not intended to make an issue of it. If I have, I apologize to all concerned.”

“Apology accepted,” Wencit nodded idly.

Rhydon turned his cup in his fingers before continuing. “I have had an additional message from General Licken since this morning’s dispatches, by the way. His advance patrols confirm that King Kelson’s army should be here no earlier than dusk, depending upon how much our diversion slows him up. We need fear no action before tomorrow morning.”