—Those four cover the road. We have been told to expect cavalry. The infantry are more likely to come from the west. Those five can fire at men ascending the foothills.

—But, Majesty—

The sub-Commander faltered, suddenly unsure of himself.

“But what, Waysel?” asked Estie. “I need to know.”

Waysel took a deep breath.

—I wonder, Majesty, whether Magister Rummage understands siege-guns. They are heavy and powerful, but their loads do not carry far. Aimed as they are, they can pound the road into rubble. But their trucks do not allow us to lower their muzzles. Their balls and chain will pass over any foemen who gain the road. They may do serious damage lower down. They will not prevent a more immediate assault.

—And there is this, Majesty.

He scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to wipe away his doubts.

—We have been forbidden to fire on the cavalry. We must let any number of them pass unharmed until we receive some signal. Magister Rummage seemed uncertain. It may be fighting when the cavalrymen reach the gates. Or it may be a shout in our minds.

—I do not understand, Majesty. What will the Repository gain by allowing the cavalry to pass?

Controlling himself, the sub-Commander gazed out over the west; but he watched Queen Estie sidelong, waiting for her response.

She dismissed his question. She had no experience to guide her opinions. Instead, she concentrated on other concerns.

“You do not have enough men, sub-Commander.” Each siege-gun needed four men. He had only twenty. “I have no use for my full escort. Commander Crayn can spare his guardsmen.”

Crayn nodded, but she was not done. “Magister Rummage’s tactics are beyond me. You will face a more pressing threat. You may be aware that Rile has many sorcerers, his priests. They fling globes that explode like gunpowder. From the road, they may be able to reach the guns.”

The sub-Commander winced.

—What can we do, Majesty? We are not riflemen.

She gave him a smile, hoping to comfort him. “If Magister Rummage does not think of it, I will ask the librarian to send Magisters of fire. They can protect you.”

Briefly, Waysel muttered to himself, or to Crayn. Then he replied:

—Thank you, Majesty. We will do what we can.

To that extent, Queen Estie was content.

The next day, the weather changed. The open skies and bitter cold were replaced by broken clouds heavy with rain, sleet, hail, and bouts of thick snow. Storms came tumbling over the Wall Mountains and boiled westward, dimming the world. Without better light, the Farsighted could discern little and be sure of less.

While the heavens blustered and spat, Magister Rummage arrived at Queen Estie’s quarters.

She had been warned about the weather. Expecting wet and cold, she wore her warmest garments under her cloak. When the hunchback knocked on her door, she was as ready as she could be.