“How much fighting can we expect, lord?” asked one of the commanders, addressing the map. “Maybe some have allied themselves with us, but the rest of the defenders will fight fiercely since they are fresh, lacking neither food nor water and with their courage still high. Might we not sit out the siege a while longer to sap their strength?”

“Is your courage not equal to the task? The sooner we have taken over an intact Toskala, the less likely reeves will be willing to drop oil of naya lest they burn down the entire city even with us in it. Or do you question our plans?”

They all kept their heads down, like cringing dogs. Marit supposed a man could get used to having folk walk around him in that posture. He might come to like it, expect it, resent those who did not truckle.

She could no longer delay. She did not want to desert Hari. Curse him. Yet she must.

Tens of thousands of people lived in Toskala, and many thousands more had crowded into the city’s five quarters in flight from the army. Someone had to warn the defenders of Toskala that traitors within the city meant to betray them—tonight.

Lord Radas went on. “At dusk, assemble your companies and move in silence to the gates. Account for me the disposition of your cohorts.”

“What about you?” Marit asked Kirit in a low voice. “Do you mean to attack the city with them?”

The girl turned that inscrutable blue gaze on Marit. “I will ride with them. My mirror will show me what is truth, and what demons have corrupted with their shadow.”

As the commanders rattled off numbers and composition of various cadres, Marit eased behind the cloth wall separating her from Hari and crawled over the rug to kneel beside him. She dared not touch the cloak lest she interrupt whatever sorcery healed him. Finally, she left the chamber through another entrance, ignoring a guard’s surprised exclamation. He wasn’t the one she need worry about.

Saddle and harness and saddle bags rested beside a rolled up mattress. She gathered her things and, choosing boldness over caution, walked to the corral. She hadn’t finished saddling Warning when a procession with Lord Radas at the lead and Yordenas and Kirit trailing paraded to the corral. Kirit lugged her own gear, but soldiers carried the harness belonging to the two men.

“You are here before us,” said Lord Radas with a gloating smile that told her, if she had not already suspected, that he had never trusted her. Had Kirit betrayed her? Or was she just so cursed obvious that anyone could have guessed? “We’ll be ready shortly.”

“I was just going to water my mare at the nearest altar, the one upriver by Highwater.” She meant to play her game to the bitter end, anything to stall.