“I . . .” The musket wobbled.

“Think of it this way,” Winter said. “If it’s treason, I’ll be punished for it in the end. No need for you to die, right here, if that’s inevitable anyway. Why don’t you and your men drop your weapons?”

There was a long, strained moment before the lieutenant uncocked his musket and tossed it on the ground. His men hastily followed suit.

Winter breathed out. “Lieutenant Corder? You can come down and secure the carriage.”

Half of the cavalrymen put their weapons away and descended the slope, while the other half kept watch. Winter let them deal with the Patriot Guards. She went to the carriage door and opened it, to find Janus sitting calmly on a cushioned seat, reading from a thin volume. He marked his place with a ribbon as she entered, shut the book with a snap, and looked up.

“Colonel,” he said. “Nicely executed, as always.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said, wishing he’d chosen another word. “Execution” was not something she wanted to think about at the moment.

“May I ask as to your next step?”

“The cavalry will get the carriage turned around, and we’ll head back to the camp. By the time we get there, Fitz and Give-Em-Hell will have disarmed the rest of the Patriot Guards and taken de Ferre into custody.”

“And after that?”

Winter shrugged. “After that I was hoping to leave it up to you. Sir.”

“I see.” Janus paused, looking briefly at the ceiling, and then turned back to Winter. “What about the rest of the army? What will they do?”

“If I’d tried to get them to come after you, I think there might have been a lot of arguments, and maybe some fighting. But if we can get you back and de Ferre under guard before they realize what’s going on . . .” Winter shrugged. “They’ll follow.”

“Like most soldiers, I suspect.” He patted the cushion opposite him. “You might as well have a seat, then.”

Winter sat. Janus leaned back and closed his eyes, and she remained silent while the cavalrymen led the horses around and went through the tricky operation of turning the carriage on the narrow road. Before long they were heading back the way they had come, toward the river and Antova, with their Patriot Guard prisoners in tow.

“Sir?” Winter said.

“Hmm?” Janus said without opening his eyes.

“Was this the right thing to do?”

“Are you really expecting me to have an answer to that question, Colonel?”

Winter considered. “No. I suppose not.”

“Well, then.”

“May I ask another?”

“Of course,” he said.

“You hid me in your tent on purpose, didn’t you?”

Janus opened his huge gray eyes and stared at Winter in the semidarkness. “Yes.”

“Why? If this is what you wanted, why didn’t you just tell me?”