Gabriel wished he had that power. Instead he went down a ladder and then out to the main area of the barn, where long lines of men and women lay in rows on straw bundles or pallets. The barn was a cacophony of snores and heavy breathing.

The outside air was sharp and cold. He saw Ser Danved in full harness, standing watch with his lance by the road. Cully was dressed. He was buckling his sword belt while he talked to young Favour, who was head to toe in a dark green that looked mostly black in the fitful torchlight.

Cully gave a sketchy salute. “Sorry, Cap’n,” he said. “But you ha’ to hear this your own sel’.”

Favour knelt on one knee. “My lord,” he said. “Ser Gelfred ordered me to find you—he sent ten of us out. We have the main column formed as you ordered, south of Lorica.” He looked at Cully. “But there’s already an army on the roads—Galles and Albans and much of what’s left of the Royal Guard. More’n a thousand lances, my lord.”

Cully had the captain’s case, and he unrolled a map. It was not very accurate, because it had been designed merely to give a traveller distances from various towns to Harndon.

“At last light, de Vrailly was at Second Bridge,” Favour said.

“Get to the bad part,” Cully said.

Favour cleared his throat. “There’s banners with de Vrailly,” he said. “Towbray’s banners.”

Gabriel struggled to be awake. “Towbray? He’s in the dungeons—”

“Ser Gelfred picked up a couple of royal archers yester e’en,” Favour said, his eyes on Cully. “Looking for new employment, they said, as the Earl of Towbray had sworn fealty to de Vrailly.”

Gabriel nodded. “That could be,” he said. “Wake Ser Michael.” He frowned.

Lord Corcy appeared out of the darkness. “Towbray—that snake,” he said.

Gabriel would, in that moment, have preferred almost any other man awake rather than the old Alban lord, who was possibly an ally but not yet proven. But there was no crying over spilled milk. “Towbray has a passion for changing sides, I agree,” he said.

“His presence will cement the loyalty of many of the southern barons,” Corcy said.

Gabriel stared into the darkness, and then down at his map. He measured a distance—Second Bridge to Lorica.

“How long for you to reach Gelfred?” he asked.

Favour bowed. “Before daylight. I swear it.”

Ser Michael appeared from the barn. He looked the way Gabriel felt.

“Your pater’s with de Vrailly,” he said bluntly.

Michael froze.

Gabriel watched him carefully.

“Idiot,” Michael swore.

Gabriel found that he’d stopped breathing for a moment, and now he breathed again. He put his arms around Michael. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve gotten knocked around the last few hours—it’s as if the pillars of the earth have been knocked over.”