Tapio shook his head. “Even ssshorn of hisss insssane horde of bogglinsss, he is puisssant beyond our bessst effortsss,” Tapio said. “And now you have taught him to take our sssorcccerersss ssseriousssly.” He turned and looked at Gavin and his dark eyes glinted. “I would hold my N’gara. I would hold it and send you all to your devil.”

Tamsin shuddered in the strange light. “No,” she said.

“No, my love?” Tapio shook his head. “Together we could stop Asssh. Or at leassst hold N’gara.”

“No,” she said. “It is a fine dream, but when we entered this war, we risked all we have. Now the bet comes due.”

Tapio grunted. “We are losssing. Perhapsss we have already lossst.”

“Yes,” admitted Tamsin. “And we lost Amicia and Kerak in one day. We will never be a choir like this again.” She sighed. “Unless Harmodius and Desiderata come.”

“Next time Ash will come with caution and sssubtlety,” Tapio said. “And you will die, Tamsssin.”

Men shuffled and one spat. Ser Gregario fiddled with his sword, and Ser Gavin wished he were good at speeches.

Bill Redmede spoke cautiously. “What does it mean that Ser Gabriel is victorious?” he asked so quietly that other men, deafened by the concussions of the falling rocks, made him repeat himself, and he flushed.

“So the Red Knight won?” he barked more loudly. “What does that mean?”

“It means he’s drinking good red wine in Etrusca while we face fucking Ash,” muttered Ser Gregario.

“It meansss he hasss traded my N’gara for Arlesss,” snapped Tapio.

Tamsin nodded. “Yes. If we wish to save Lissen Carak, we must leave N’gara.”

“The gates align, or open, or what have you, in twenty-three days,” Gavin said. “Whatever happens . . .” Gavin closed his eyes, and opened them again. “We’re on our own.”

Tamsin raised her hands despite her weariness. “Listen; our workings, and Ash’s, have turned Dykesdale into a carbonized desert with a pool of molten rock at the bottom. We have a day; perhaps two. We can break off, move east, and . . . begin laying traps and ambushes. Every day.”

Tapio looked away.

Bill Redmede looked at his brother. “Twenty days?” he asked.

Harald Redmede was captain of the royal foresters, the hardest man in the woods, some said. “You only die once,” he said, and spat. It wasn’t contempt; his mouth was full of wood ash.

“And then we try and hold Lissen Carak,” Gavin said, thinking it over. “Sweet Christ. With the twelve thousand we have left? Mayhap?”

“Yer brother held it wi’ five hunerd,” Redmede the elder said.

“The king came and rescued us,” Gavin said.

Tamsin nodded. “We will have to pray for Harmodius and Desiderata this time.” She paused, opened her mouth to speak, and then said nothing. She looked at Tapio.