Valyn frowned. “Means we’ll have to take care in setting up shop. If they’re sticking to protocol, they’ll be sending men back two, three times a day. We can’t let the kenarang know we’re here.”

“All right,” Talal said. “What’s the play?”

“We wait until full dark,” he replied, “then move in. We’ll take up a position on top of the tower. Should give us a good view of what’s going on and, with any luck, a line of sight to il Tornja when he arrives. The bastard may be a brilliant tactician, but tactics never blocked an arrow.”

“And you still want to do this?” Laith asked. “Kill him? Even after what you learned from your sister? If Long Fist is coming, that means he lied, means he played us. . . .”

Valyn’s jaw tightened. Laith had distrusted the Urghul shaman from the start, but the encounter with il Tornja’s army, the realization that the horsemen were actually planning to push across the river, made the flier furious. He was right, of course—the shaman’s army, his so-called shield, was starting to look a lot like a fucking spear—and yet Laith couldn’t see beyond that point. It would do them little good to defeat the Urghul only to hand the empire to il Tornja when the fighting was done.

“Long Fist lied to us,” Laith continued, as though the revelation were a shock.

“It was a smart play,” Talal said. “He risks nothing by using us to get at il Tornja. If we succeed, he wins. If we fail,” he shrugged, “he was planning to fight the battle anyway.”

Laith spat. “And we’re just cheerfully going to keep doing what this horsefucker wants?” He stared at Valyn, the challenge hard in his voice. “We’ve already killed a couple Annurian soldiers for the great and mighty Long Fist—what’s a little more Annurian blood? Is that it?”

“There is more than one fight here,” Valyn ground out. “The fact that one is evil doesn’t make the other good. Long Fist lied to us, but il Tornja murdered the Emperor.”

“According to Balendin,” Laith said, voice rising in disbelief.

“According to my sister,” Valyn replied, trying to keep his voice calm. “Adare confirmed it. The kenarang killed my father and seized control of the empire.”

“It is your sister,” Talal pointed out quietly, “who has taken on the imperial mantle.”

“She’s il Tornja’s puppet,” Valyn snapped. “She thinks she’s doing the right thing, but she doesn’t understand the larger forces at play.”

“Seems to me,” Laith said archly, “that she is one of the larger fucking forces. She’s the Malkeenian in charge now, she’s declared herself Emperor, she has the kenarang jumping to her tune, the Army of the North, and, in case you didn’t notice it, the ’Kent-kissing Sons of Flame into the bargain.”