The Mystrians did not complain too loudly, however. Hattersburgians learned of the injustice and opened their larders to their fellow citizens. Word circulated quietly, along with a guarantee by Prince Vlad in which he indemnified all Mystrians for the supplies they gave the troops. He even sent an order down-river with the Bookworms to send more supplies to Hattersburg to cover the donations.
The supply barges had been able to bring the dozen light artillery pieces, their powder, and shot up to Hattersburg, but the horse teams needed to haul them still had not made it. Local farmers, again with an agreement through the Prince, supplied teams of oxen to drag the guns along. Given the painfully slow pace of the column, the oxen's lack of speed was not an issue.
While the troopers collected their meager rations, Lord Rivendell invested Gates' Tavern and demanded a feast to celebrate his reunion with the cavalry. Two steers and a dozen chickens, a cask of whisky and a tun of ale, three dozen loaves of bread and a dozen puddings laden with sugar-sugar drawn from the warehouse before rations were issued-went into the meal. As an afterthought the Prince and Count were invited to join the festivities.
Music, laughter, and cheers lasted late into the night.
Owen didn't mind not having been included. Seth Plant had found him shortly after his arrival. He'd filled Owen in on the details of what had happened when Nathaniel and the others had come through two weeks earlier. He'd also managed to snag two letters that had come upstream from Temperance and presented them to Owen.
"Thought these should get to you first thing."
Owen thanked him and turned the first over. It had been addressed in a clean, feminine hand. Catherine. He read it quickly, the scent of her perfume rising from the page.
She told him she missed him terribly. She felt so horribly alone since his uncle had departed-leaving his loathsome servant behind to help her-but Mrs. Frost had come to the rescue, having all but adopted her. Catherine said that her sewing skills had progressed admirably and that she had been appointed, along with Mrs. Langford, to the Citizen's Committee for the Homecoming of the troops. All the women were planning many festivities and she could not wait for his return because she had wonderful news.
He had no idea what she meant, and she promised more details in her next missive. He glanced at the date, which was 15 June, almost a month previous.
The second letter had also been addressed in a feminine hand. It bore a faint resemblance to Bethany's writing. He opened it. Hettie Frost had written it on 21 June.
Dear Captain Strake,
Two days ago your wife had quite a fright. One of the Twilight People spied in the window of her room. Your wife screamed and fainted, but Rachel Warren heard and ran to her aid. She got your wife into bed and we, the women of Temperance, have been seeing to her care.
I am writing you to let you know that she is well, if a bit weak. She promises to write you when she is able. She says you should not worry about her, that she will be fine, and should not cause you the least bit of concern.
We all hope you are doing well and we look forward to your homecoming as soon as the Good Lord permits.
Sincerely,
Mrs. Archibald Frost
"Seth, no other letters?"
"Just orders to the cavalry and some things to local folks."
"How often have supplies come in?"
"Some here and there. Bargers say normal traffic coming in and out of Margaretstown. Horses is waiting on a boat to bring them up from Temperance."
"Why didn't they just use the Bellepheron? "
"Heard tell she got loose of her moorings in the bay. Ran aground."
Tharyngian agents or… Owen shook his head. His uncle wouldn't have engineered the ship running aground. It was unnecessary. Rivendell already had insufficient troops and the cavalry were the least of them. In fact, since the Fortress of Death would be especially difficult for the cavalry to attack, having them on foot made them better.
Or is he hoping that Rivendell will see the impossibility of the attack and just build Fort Hope? Any other commander might have done that, but Rivendell? His grasp on reality was tenuous at best. If he went ahead with the attack, using dismounted cavalry as infantry, he would kill off the scions of many noble houses. This would poison their blood against Rivendell. The lack of horses did play to the outcome his uncle desired, no matter what Rivendell decided.
"Seth, I will have two letters to head back in the morning. Will you see to it they get to Temperance?"
The man nodded. "Be needing some time to myself after all the doings here. Glad to, Captain."
"Thank you." Owen sighed. "First, I have to talk to the Prince. He needs to know what's been going on. Then, my friend, we have to pray he can fix it."
Chapter Fifty-Nine
July 24, 1764
Fort Cuivre
Lac Verleau, New Tharyngia
N athaniel handed Major Forest back his spyglass. "I reckon that is near the damnedest thing I have ever seen."
"It is, and us with a hundred and then some men and no cannon to destroy it."
"Least ways we got here." Nathaniel smiled. "Mayhap that'll have been the toughest part of it all."
Forest snapped the spyglass shut. "It will be as nothing to what comes. Tough as that journey was, cracking this nut will be tougher."
"Has the looks of a jeopard lair to it, does Fort Cuivre."
The Tharyngians had built Fort Cuivre on Lac Verleau's eastern shore, at the outflow of the Argent River. The river was two hundred yards wide at the outlet, and flowed strongly as well as deep. The fort's wharves had two corvettes and numerous canoes moored there. To the west, the lake's blue-green waters stretched on as far as the eye could see.
The fort itself had been dug down into a small hill. The hill's west and south sides had been faced in stone. A tall palisade wall protected the fort on the north, east, and south side. The west remained open toward the wharves, but had a small stone wall with two cannon placements and two other stations where small swivel-guns had been rigged. The guns had been set up to discourage Shedashee raids.
The fort itself ran fifty yards on a side, with walls rising on average a dozen feet above the hilltop. A minimal amount of work had been done to prepare glacises to the north and east. Trees had been cleared for approximately sixty yards around the fort. Undergrowth remained save to the north where some fields had been plowed. This far north, the maize crop was barely waist-high compared to being over a man's head down south in Bounty.
Fort Cuivre boasted a dozen more cannon neatly split into three groups of four on the north, east, and south walls. Towers at the corners gave lookouts good vantage points, but the men on duty appeared to be bored. A dozen men who were off duty, and not assigned to farming or gathering wood, spent their time fishing. When one of them landed a big salmon, a general cheer went up. The fisherman cleaned it, kindled a fire and, in short order, was parceling out steaming filets to his friends.
To prevent a ship of the line getting into the lake, a smaller stone tower had been built on the southern bank. That put it on ground claimed by Norisle. A heavy chain stretched between the two buildings. Two Ryngian soldiers stood guard in the small tower and Nathaniel guessed two more were crowded in below. Around the tower the woods had been chopped back only twenty yards and no one had made an attempt at clearing brush.
Forest rubbed at his eyes. "The troops are wearing blue coats, green facings with gold trim. They're part of the Silicium Regiment, probably Second battalion. They outnumber us by a company."
"I reckon we can even them odds."
"No doubt about it." Forest pointed with his hook. "The cannon can fire into the woods all around, but muskets can barely reach. The fort's cannon can cover the small tower, but musket-fire cannot. The small tower is ours when we want it, but taking it gives us no advantage."