“I’d be grateful,” she managed, “if you’d give me a minute or two. In fact, go and find Colonel Warus as well. Tell him it’s an emergency, but don’t let anyone else know.” She looked down at herself. Jane was right about one thing, at least. I know what I need to do. I just didn’t want to admit it. “We’re going to need him.”

*   *   *

The perfect victory, Winter thought, is the battle you don’t have to fight.

She remembered Janus in Khandar, facing down the mutinous Colonials led by Adrecht Roston, and how the colonel had turned the whole situation to his own advantage with nothing more than a little guile. And a bit of help from me, I suppose. She’d thought about calling a similar meeting, but after her conversation with Jane she wasn’t at all sure she could pull it off, and in any case the Army of the East was too large to gather that way.

Instead she’d gone to a few commanders she knew she could rely on. Fitz Warus and Give-Em-Hell, of course, had agreed eagerly, but their very eagerness had shaken her. Is Jane right? Will we just do anything for Janus, and damn the consequences? She’d expected Sevran to be more difficult, but he’d promised to get the support of the Royals and make sure his lieutenants were on board.

Last, and most critically, she’d gone to Abby. As Winter had feared, Jane had already been there, and Abby looked as shaken as Winter herself felt. Abby’s expression was firm, however, and her voice steady.

“Jane’s being an idiot,” she said. “Which is hardly unprecedented. She’s gone to sulk with some of the old Leatherbacks.” Abby took a deep breath, steadying herself. “What do you need us to do?”

That, and some hasty planning, had led to this rocky hillside, a few miles outside the camp and well beyond the view of the outlying pickets. This was the road that led up to the pass; with the fall of Antova, the direct route back to Vordan City was open, as opposed to the roundabout trip through Desland and Essyle. A few days’ travel through the gap in the Keth Range and a quick downstream river journey would see the Patriot Guards and their prisoner back in the capital.

Give-Em-Hell had volunteered to seize the carriage by force, vaulting from horseback to the driver’s seat, but Winter had vetoed the idea. Instead she’d borrow a squadron of light cavalry, hard-riding men who’d mostly seen service in Khandar, equipped with stubby-looking carbines and fast horses. They’d left Give-Em-Hell with Fitz Warus, to execute the other half of the plan, and set off just before sunset through the Colonials’ pickets.