“Il Tornja’s going to be here in a day,” Valyn said, “and unless you forgot, those men down there, the ones with the nice swords, are his scouts. If we go down, they’ll make us in a heartbeat and report back. If il Tornja knows we’re here, we’ve lost the element of surprise, which, right now, is our only ’Kent-kissing advantage.”

Laith snorted with disgust. “Fuck, Valyn. Half the Wing’s already down there. You think if il Tornja hears about Gwenna and Annick he’s not going to assume you’re along, too?”

Valyn grimaced. It was an unexpected problem, but a problem didn’t mean a disaster. “Gwenna knows the truth about il Tornja, she knows that we’re hunting him, and she’s smart enough not to piss in the broth.”

“There’s another reason to stay clear,” Talal said, frowning. “It’s hard to see how this all ends up, but if, when it’s over, il Tornja finds Gwenna and Annick, he’s going to realize they survived Yurl’s attack, which means he’s probably going to assume they know the truth about him. Or at least suspect it. I wouldn’t be surprised if he locks them up for questioning—discreetly, of course.”

Valyn nodded. He hadn’t considered that angle, but, as usual, Talal was right. “Which gives us two reasons to stay out of sight.”

Laith shook his head. “Right. Two reasons: what if . . . and just in case . . . We’re a brave new breed of philosopher soldier, keeping our hands clean while other people swing the swords.”

Valyn didn’t reply. He had a sense that they’d all be swinging swords soon enough, and once they started, there was no telling when they’d stop.

42

Old Pikker John said he’d rather die on his porch than run, and he got his wish. Well, the dying part of it anyway. Gwenna couldn’t say how long he’d managed to hold on to his porch, but when the Urghul dragged him out onto the east bank of the Black, he’d lost his axes, his crock of whiskey, and, if the way his head lolled on his shoulders was any indication, the ability and will to fight.

“They got him,” Bridger said.

“Of course they got him,” Gwenna snapped. “Did you think one old man was going to see off the entire Urghul nation all by himself?”

She bit off the rest of the tirade. She was mad at John, not Bridger, mad at the old man for his stupidity, for his stubbornness, and for making her watch what had to happen next.