"Think it will?" Pepperdyne wondered.
Stryke shrugged, then went to the door and called Dallog in. "Escort Standeven to our billet. Make sure the band keeps an eye on him for at least a couple of days."
"How much do I tell 'em about all this?"
"They've a right to know. But I'll take care of it. Now get him out of my sight."
Dallog took Standeven by the arm and hustled him out.
Stryke looked to Pepperdyne and Coilla. "What do you think?"
"It stinks," Coilla offered. "Only I can't see where the smell's coming from."
"Pepperdyne? You know him best."
"He's a lying, two-faced bastard. But I never saw him as a killer. Not because he isn't ruthless, mind you, but because he's a coward."
"Lots of murderers are cowards."
"I suppose I'm saying… I don't know what to think, Stryke. He's twisted enough to kill if it furthers his ends, or at least not to fret if somebody loses their life over him. But he's got no guts. Fuck him. He always screws things up."
"He's not doing that to us."
"We're going to have to babysit him now," Coilla said. "That's not what I signed up for."
"Me neither," Stryke agreed. "But I'm more worried about our bond with the resistance. We've worked hard for their trust. This could break it."
"Ever get the feeling we aren't in control? Not just over this, but what's going on here in Acurial?"
"It's what troubles me most: not having control over our own fate."
"Well, we fought hard enough for it in Maras-Dantia, and once a race gets a taste for freedom they cling to it."
"I'll second that," Pepperdyne contributed.
Stryke gave him a quizzical look, then glanced at Coilla.
"Jode's a Trougathian," she told him.
"A what?"
"Long story. Maybe he'll tell you sometime."
Pepperdyne didn't offer to explain.
"But you're right about control," she went on. "We've got no easy way out. Not as long as we've only got the one star."
"We're going to go for the others."
"When?"
"We need to make a plan, scout Jennesta's route, think of a cover story for Brelan and Chillder — "
" When, Stryke?"
"Tomorrow."
8
Stryke kept the team small. He decided on Coilla, Haskeer and Dallog, the latter the only new recruit, and eight privates, none of them tyros.
It was late the following day, and the shades of night were falling. Stryke's group had established that Jennesta was at the stone circle on the outskirts of Taress, and the route she usually took back to the fortress was confirmed. Now they waited in hiding by a road leading to the redoubt.
"I'm surprised the resistance let us out of their sight," Coilla said. "What did you tell them?"
"Brelan and Chillder think we're freelancing," Stryke told her, "helping to keep the pot boiling. Reckon they were glad to have us out of their way after what happened with Standeven."
"How's that going? I've been here all day, remember."
"The rest of the band's looking out for him. Pepperdyne's closer than his shadow. The rebels are as cold as a dead witch's arse to him. But it turned out the orc he killed isn't known to them, which might make it easier."
"I still don't see how we're going to keep this mission from them. They're bound to hear about it."
"The humans won't boast about a defeat."
"And if they do?"
"They're not going to say anything about the stars."
"That's not what I meant. My worry's about what Brelan and Chillder are going to do when they know we went after Jennesta again behind their backs."
"What can they do about it?"
"Shut us out?"
"We can still help bring about an uprising. That's what we came here for."
"It'll be harder if we make enemies of the resistance."
"We thrive on enemies, Coilla. But you're right; we don't need the rebels on our necks."
"So how do we avoid it?"
"Like I said, Jennesta wouldn't boast of a defeat, so the resistance won't hear about it. But she would crow if it goes wrong."
"You mean we can't screw this up."
"Right."
"What I wanna know," Haskeer said, "is do we kill her if we get the chance?"
"Not if it gets in the way of snatching the stars," Stryke decreed. "Otherwise…"
"The rebels would hear about that," Coilla remarked.
"And wouldn't bellyache if we pulled it off. Killing the Peczan envoy'd be a big boost for them."
They fell silent and returned to watching.
Their hiding place was just beyond a fork in the road. The turnoff led to the main barracks, which were out of sight, where the majority of the fortress garrison were billeted. The road Stryke, Coilla and Haskeer overlooked went to the fortress itself.
Despite being near the city's heart, the area was almost semi-bucolic due to the acres of land belonging to the fortress. Land once used for leisure and hunting by long-dead rulers, and now employed for drill by the citadel's battalion. Graced with more trees than anywhere else in Taress, it was quiet compared to the rest of the metropolis, with little traffic and few passersby. The reputation of the place was such that citizens preferred to avoid it. But there were patrols of troops to be wary of.
"How much longer we got to wait?" Haskeer grumbled.
"Most times she's back around now," Stryke said.
"Waiting's the bit I hate."
"It's part of the job. Take it easy."
"Count your toes," Coilla suggested.
Haskeer scowled at her.
They waited until it was nearly dark, and were passed only by the odd rider or wagon, usually travelling at speed to get through the district as quickly as possible. Haskeer grew more restless, and Stryke was beginning to think the mission would have to be scrubbed.
It was Coilla who snapped them out of it. "There," she said, pointing up the highway.
A convoy was coming along the main road and approaching the fork. They were headed by a group of mounted cavalry, followed by two coaches, each with a trooper sitting alongside the driver. Another contingent of cavalry brought up the rear. The procession moved at a good clip, but short of breakneck speed.
"Hope the others are watching this," Coilla added.
"If they're awake," Haskeer muttered.
Stryke shot him a frown.
"Well, Dallog's with 'em."
"He's a pro," Stryke told him, "and so are the grunts with him. So quit sniping."
Haskeer grunted in a noncommittal way.
The convoy had reached the fork. The cavalry in the lead peeled off and headed for their barracks, as did the contingent bringing up the rear. The unescorted pair of carriages picked up speed for the home stretch.
Coilla gazed into the trees on the other side of the road. She couldn't see anything. Not that she had expected to. "They're cutting it fine."
"The timing has to be spot-on," Stryke reminded her. "Relax."
She smiled at the thought of relaxation as she reached for her bow.
The convoy was almost on them. Coilla and Haskeer nocked their arrows.
"Make those shots count," Stryke told them. "You might not get a second chance."
"I know, I know," Haskeer came back irritably.
The convoy was almost level with their position when a loud crack rang out. Ahead of the first carriage a mature tree crashed down in a flurry of leaves, blocking the road. The carriages skidded to a halt. Another substantial tree fell behind the second carriage, boxing them both in.
" Now! " Stryke yelled.
Coilla and Haskeer loosed their arrows. Coilla's struck the trooper next to the driver on the lead carriage. It was a righteous hit, pitching the man from his seat.
Haskeer's arrow missed. Stryke and Coilla glared at him.