Standing in the ruins were a trio of rangers, all wearing dark green and carrying the crossbows preferred by all the Venikans. Kronmir dismounted and tied his horse to a sapling. He took Favour’s as well; the younger man was in command.

Favour looked puzzled to hand his horse to anyone. “I’m not much of an officer,” he commented wryly.

Suddenly Kronmir was in demand. He spoke Etruscan fluently; Favour’s Low Archaic was not up to detailed planning. Kronmir listened to the Venikan officer, Lorenzo. Long Paw, the eldest, stood patiently in shadow, saying nothing. Kronmir knew that Long Paw spoke Etruscan and several dialects, and assumed that the man was employing an excellent caution.

“He says that the Mitlans are snug behind their entrenchments waiting for the Patriarch. The Patriarch is close; perhaps two days south,” Kronmir said.

Favour nodded. “Do you know where the Patriarch’s troops are? And how fast they are moving?”

Lorenzo nodded. He spoke rapidly, drawing on a wax tablet.

“I think I got all that,” Favour said with a smile.

Kronmir translated anyway. “He says that the Patriarch is north of Firensi, and that he is making less than twenty leagues a day; he has infantry and baggage. He says that he saw them himself yesterday.”

Lorenzo said in Etruscan, “I do not think that the Patriarch or the Duke of Mitla know exactly where the other is.”

Kronmir translated.

Favour chewed the end of his mustache.

Kronmir glanced at him. “Ser Alison should know this immediately. I’ll go.”

“Do it,” Favour said, nodding. “Tell her I’m going to assume we’ll attack the Patriarch. I’ll push south; start beating up their scouts, if they have any. I’ll leave Captain Lorenzo to watch the Mitlans.”

Kronmir nodded. “I have it.”

“What do you think?” Favour asked.

“I think that surprise is Ser Alison’s greatest ally. Don’t be seen, would be my advice.” Kronmir hated giving advice, but in this, his views were simple.

Favour was confident enough not to bridle. He thought about it a moment. “Alright. It’ll be dark before I could make contact anyway. Get her to tell you what her plan is. And you can guide the column to here. Ask Captain Lorenzo how far to the Patriarch’s outposts from this ridge?”

Kronmir asked.

“If he marched fifteen leagues today, he’s forty leagues away right now. Mayhap as little as thirty. There is a . . . hmm . . . hand of the Venikan rangers watching; he’ll have a report eventually.” Kronmir shrugged. “Do you need me here to translate?”

“Yes,” Favour said. “But I imagine Ser Alison needs you, too. We’ll muddle through.” He glanced at Long Paw, his mentor. The older man smiled.

“I can manage a little Etruscan,” Long Paw ventured.