The Earl of Dreis gave King Orden no comfort. The man was incompetent. He had been in the castle for less than an hour before he tried to assume command. One of his first tasks had been to order the artillerymen to push the catapults back into the shelter of the towers, foiling all the work the artillerymen had done setting the ranges.

Orden found the Earl lounging in the Duke’s old quarters, letting a body servant massage his feet while he sipped warm tea.

“Why have you ordered the artillery stored?” Orden asked.

The Duke seemed to struggle to decide whether to affect an imperious tone or become defensive. “A stratagem, my dear fellow, a stratagem. You see, I realized that if we keep them hidden until the heat of battle, we can whisk them out suddenly, and the sight of them will dismay Raj Ahten’s forces!”

King Orden did not know whether to laugh or weep at such stupidity. “Raj Ahten has seen many catapults,” he said simply. “He has taken a hundred castles by force. His men will not be dismayed at the sight of these.”

“Yes, but—”

“Indeed, Raj Ahten has seen these catapults, for he came here not a fortnight ago. He knows they are here.”

“Ah, of course! Point well taken!” the Earl said, shoving his masseuse away as he struggled from his chair.

“We need to put the catapults back, then let our men test the settings once again, and their ranges.”

“Well . . . all right,” the Earl grumbled, as if considering some other plan.

“Also,” King Orden said, “you’ve ordered your men to defend the castle gates, and my men to man the walls. Is there some reason for this?”

“Ah, of course!” Dreis said. “You must realize that my men are fighting for home and country. It is a matter of honor for them to defend the gates.”

“Your Lordship,” Orden tried to explain patiently, “you must understand that in the thick of this battle, all our men will be fighting for their lives. My men fight for their homes and their countries, as well as yours do. And I’ve brought my best force warriors, men with ten and twenty endowments each. They will fight better than commoners.”

Dreis rebutted, “Ah, your men may fight with swords and hammers, but our men will fight with heart, and with a will!”

“Your Lordship—”

Dreis raised a hand to stop him. “You forget your place, Orden,” he said fiercely. “This is Heredon, not Mystarria. I command this castle, until some greater lord takes my place.”

“Assuredly,” Orden said with a slight bow, though a bending of his back had never come harder. “I did not mean to seem presumptuous. I merely hoped that some of my better guards might fight beside yours. It would show Raj Ahten . . . our unity.”

“Ah, unity!” Dreis said, taking the bait. “A noble concept. A fine ideal. Yes, yes, I’ll order it immediately.”