“If we make it.”

“When we make it, Glaward and your officers can spread the rest out through Adua. Secure the gates, the docks, the bridges, the squares and crossroads, hold down the city for its own safety. We’ll rush my best men and yours straight for the Agriont and take the south gate. Free the king before they know we’re coming.”

Forest grimly nodded. “And you wife, too.”

Leo frowned towards the great pall of smoke on the horizon. Could he see the pinpricks of Adua’s tallest towers, peeking over the grassy rise? The House of the Maker? The highest chimneys? Perhaps even the roof of the Tower of Chains… “And my wife, too.”

Savine would understand. She used to love a gamble, after all.

“Tight enough,” squeaked Gorst, and Vick pulled the strap through the buckle and gave his backplate a thump with her fist. Felt like the right thing to do when helping a man on with his armour. Not that she’d know. Helping men in and out of their clothes was something she’d done less than she’d have liked, down the years.

“Brock and Forest are on their way,” she said.

“Will they get here in time?”

Vick could only shrug. No idea how long they’d take to get to the city. No idea what resistance they’d face once they got in. No idea how long the trial might last. Far too many variables, all way outside her control. While Gorst slid his mirror-polished steels into their sheaths, she pushed the squares board aside and spread out the map, staring at it as if some answer might suddenly reveal itself in invisible ink.

“I bought off the guards at the gates in Casamir’s Wall, and Arnault’s. With any luck our friends can march straight through. The gate of the Agriont is the problem.” And she tapped at the citadel’s south gate. Always the weakest point in a weak plan. “They blew up some bits of the wall but not enough to make a difference, and Judge has her most loyal men guarding it. Too risky to bribe. The paranoid bastards took all the gates off the hinges, but the portcullises are still mounted. They drop those, our friends will be stuck outside. Might take them days to get in. If they get in at all.”

“So…?”

“We have to take the chain room.”

“We?”

“You and me. I spin the guards a story about worries over their loyalty, try to get at least a couple out, then… we deal with the rest. We bar the door. We hold it till the Young Lion’s cavalry arrives.”

Gorst nodded slowly. He didn’t say whether he thought it was a good plan or a bad. He didn’t have to. Vick already knew it was a terrible plan. She just hadn’t been able to think of a better one.

“Timing’ll be tight,” she murmured, taking the neat row of weapons from the table one by one and sliding them into their various sheaths, pockets, hiding places. “Go too late, they’ll be ready, no way we’ll capture the room. Go too early, even if we capture the room, we might’ve lost it by the time Brock gets there.” She thought about that a moment. “And we’ll probably be dead.”