“It won’t work. If we’re fortunate, we might take the fortress, but we’d never hold it against Jindenau’s army.” Janus’ expression darkened again. “And Antova is the key to the valley. Without it, we’ll have no option but to retreat when winter sets in.”

“Not to mention,” Winter said quietly, “how many soldiers we’ll lose.”

“Yes,” he said. “Though I doubt that enters de Ferre’s calculations.”

There was another moment of silence.

“Antova must fall,” Janus said, half to himself. “It must fall, soon. A fortress can fall by storm, by siege, by betrayal, or by surrender. We can’t storm it with a good chance of success, and they’ve got more than enough supplies to hold out until Jindenau gets here and forces a field battle we won’t be able to win.”

“You had a plan,” Fitz pointed out.

“The beginnings of one,” Janus admitted. “But de Ferre will never agree. And it’s moot in any case if he gets half the men killed in the first assault.”

“Finding a traitor inside the fortress would take more time than we have,” Fitz said.

“And why should they surrender?” Janus said. “They know their army is on the way.”

Winter chewed her lip for a moment, then said, “There’s a new Vordanai general. A cruel, heartless bastard. He’s brought twenty fresh regiments to storm the fortress, and he promises to kill everyone inside the walls, soldiers or not. No quarter, unless they surrender at once.”

Fitz and Janus looked at her, then at each other.

“It might help,” Fitz said. “If they believed it.”

“But why should they?” Janus said.

“I have . . . an idea. Let me talk to my people. And we’ll need some help from the other colonels.”

“I’m sure they’d be willing, if the alternative is storming the walls,” Fitz said. “Sir?”

“Do it,” Janus said. “Whatever you need. De Ferre will be watching me, so I won’t be able to be much help.” He glanced at the remains of the bottle. “I apologize for my . . . nerves.”

“Understandable,” Winter said. “Frankly, I’m surprised you managed not to punch him in the face.”

An hour later, with the sun sinking toward the horizon, Winter sat in her own tent with Abby. The story of de Ferre’s arrival had made the rounds of the camp by now, in various distorted versions, and she’d been full of questions. Winter explained what had happened in Janus’ tent, and laid out her idea. Abby gave a low whistle.

“That’s . . . bold,” she said.

“It’s all I could think of. Fitz is making the rounds of the other colonels to get them to do their part, but I wanted to get your opinion before I talk to Anne-Marie.”