The two groups met halfway between the Vordanai lines and the fortress walls, within easy cannon-shot of both sides. Winter didn’t know how to read the Hamveltai insignia, but judging by the amount of gold braid and decorations pinned to his chest, the white-haired man in the lead was di Pfalen himself. His right arm hung limp in a sling, and his face was tight and puffy from pain and lack of sleep. Carrying himself with obvious effort, he looked over the Vordanai party and spoke in Hamveltai. Winter could more or less decipher this, but de Ferre was obviously in complete ignorance.

“Which one of you is Vhalnich?” di Pfalen said.

Fitz took a step forward, bowed, and asked in Vordanai, “Do any of you speak Vordanai?”

There was a bit of muttering and head-shaking from the Hamveltai officers. Fitz nodded, switched smoothly into Hamveltai, and went on. “Then I will translate for the general. Is that acceptable?”

Di Pfalen grunted approval. “Then this is Vhalnich?”

“He wishes to speak to General Vhalnich,” Fitz said to de Ferre.

“Tell him Vhalnich is no longer in command here. I’m the one he has to deal with now,” de Ferre said.

“General de Ferre has replaced General Vhalnich in command of the Army of the East,” Fitz repeated dutifully.

Another round of muttering. Winter’s heart leapt when she heard one of the officers say, “It’s true, then!” Our message must have gotten through.

“The terms presented in your note,” di Pfalen said, “go against every principle of civilized war. I must protest in the very strongest terms.”

“He isn’t happy we’ve asked them to surrender,” Fitz said to de Ferre.

“He’s not meant to be happy. Tell him I want to get this over with one way or the other,” de Ferre said.

Fitz turned back to the Hamveltai. “The general says he meant what he wrote. We demand your immediate surrender, or else you face an immediate assault.”

Di Pfalen’s mustache twitched. “You’re bluffing. You’d lose thousands just getting to the walls.”

“He thinks you’re not serious,” Fitz said to de Ferre.

“Not serious, am I?” De Ferre advanced a step and waved a finger under di Pfalen’s nose. “Tell him to turn around and step back inside his little castle if he wants to see how serious I am. And if he insults my courage again, I’ll slug him, white flag or no white flag.”

“The general says,” Fitz translated for the wide-eyed di Pfalen, “that casualties mean nothing to him. Ours, or yours. He says he is quite prepared for the battle to start right here.” Fitz swallowed, and did a good impression of someone who was terrified. “I suggest you don’t test him on this point. He has quite a temper.”