“I’m taking five hundred men south, to Castle Longmot—right now. A thousand more will follow at dawn. I want you to take five hundred men with you now. Our scouts tell me that a few thousand nomen are in the woods at Castle Sylvarresta. If you ride hard, you can meet them at dawn, outside the castle, and let the men practice their archery.

“Keep your forces in the woods. The Wolf Lord won’t dare send reinforcements from the castle if he can’t guess your number. If he should attack, retreat gracefully, heading for Longmot. At noon, your men will retreat to Longmot in any case.

“It seems that the Duchess of Longmot has her hands full. Raj Ahten took her castle, stole endowments from hundreds of her people. At dawn she plans to kill herself, and anyone else who is a Dedicate to Raj Ahten. And it seems that she’s captured a great treasure. So I must go to relieve her of it. I’ll want you to keep the Wolf Lord off my back.”

King Orden considered his next move. He knew these woods well, had hunted the Dunnwood many times over the past twenty years. He needed to use that knowledge to his advantage.

“I will be destroying the bridge at Hay worth, for all the good it will do. So you will send your men to Boar’s Ford—to that narrow canyon below the fond. There they will sit in ambush. When Raj Ahten’s troops come through, your men will attack—push boulders on them from above, loose arrows, set the east end of the canyon ablaze. But don’t let your men draw sword unless you have to. Your troops will then race for Longmot. You understand? Your only purpose is to harry the Wolf Lord, to cause damage, to nibble at the edge of his defenses, to slow his journey.”

Borenson was smiling even wider, grinning like a maniac by now. It was practically a suicide mission. Orden wondered why that proposition delighted him. Did the man wish for death, or was it merely the deadly challenge that thrilled him?

“Unfortunately, you may not be with your troops.”

“I won’t?” Borenson’s smile faltered.

“No, I have something more reckless in mind for you. Tomorrow at noon, while your troops retreat toward the ambush, I want you, personally—and you alone—to ride into Castle Sylvarresta, to deliver a message to Raj Ahten.”

Borenson began grinning again, but it was not the crazed, reckless grin he’d had before. Instead, he seemed more determined. Beads of sweat began to form on his brow.

“Be surly, abuse Raj Ahten as best you know how. Tell him that I’ve captured Longmot. Crow about it. As proof of my deed, tell him that I killed his Dedicates there at dawn—”

Borenson swallowed hard.