Fire was startled; this was news, and not of the happy variety. "How big has Mydogg's army grown?"
"It's still not as big as the King's Army," Roen said firmly. "Mydogg has said to my face that he has twenty-five thousand soldiers at the underside, but our spies to his holding in the northeast put the count at only twenty thousand or so. Brigan has twenty thousand patrolling in the four branches alone, and an additional five thousand in the auxiliaries."
"And Gentian?"
"We're not certain. Our best guess is ten thousand or so, all living in caves below the Winged River near his estate."
"Numbers aside," the spymaster said, "everyone has archers and spies. Your archer could be working for anyone. If you'll leave the arrow and bolt with us we may be able to eliminate some possibilities or at least determine where his gear comes from. But I'll be honest with you: I wouldn't hold out too much hope. You haven't given us much to go on."
"The man who was killed in your cages," Roen said. "The one you call the poacher. He gave you no hint of his purpose? Even you, Fire?"
"His mind was blank," Fire said. "No evil intent, no honourable intent. He had the feel of a simpleton, someone's tool."
"And the man in the king's rooms yesterday," Roen said. "Did he have that feel?"
"No. He may certainly have been working for someone else, but his mind was consumed with purpose, and with guilt. He thought for himself."
"Nash said his belongings were disturbed," Roen said, "but nothing was taken. We wonder if the man was looking for a number of letters that I happened to be carrying on my own person in Nash's absence – and good thing, too. A spy – but whose? Fire, you would recognise the man if he crossed your path again?"
"I would. I don't believe he's in the castle now. Perhaps he left under cover of the Third."
"We wasted a day," the spymaster said. "We could have used you yesterday to find him and question him."
And then Fire was reminded that even when Archer wouldn't look her in the face he was her friend, for he said crisply, "Lady Fire was in need of rest yesterday, and anyway, she is not a tool for your use."
Roen tapped her fingernails on the table, not attending, following her own thoughts. "Every man is an enemy," she said grimly. "Mydogg, Gentian, the black market, Pikkia. They've got people sneaking around trying to learn Brigan's plans for the troops, steal our allies from us, figure out a good place and time to do away with Nash or Brigan or one of the twins, or even me." She shook her head. "And in the meantime, we're trying to learn their numbers and their allies and their allies' numbers. Their plans for attack. We're trying to steal their spies and convert them to our side. No doubt they're doing the same with our spies. The rocks only know whom among our own people we should trust. One of these days a messenger will come through my gates to tell me my sons are dead."
She spoke unemotionally; she wasn't trying to elicit comfort or contradiction, she was only stating fact. "We do need you, Fire," she added. "And don't look all panicked like that. Not to change people's thoughts. Only to take advantage of the greater sense of people that you have."
No doubt Roen meant her words. But with the kingdom in this unstable state the lesser expectation would grow to include the greater, sooner rather than later. Fire's head began to throb harder than she thought she could bear. She glanced at Archer, who responded by avoiding her eyes, frowning at the table, and changing the subject abruptly.
"Can you spare me any more soldiers, Lady Queen?"
"I suppose I can't deny you my soldiers when yesterday Fire saved their lives," Roen said. "Brigan has helped by leaving me ten dozen men from the Third. You may take eight of the soldiers from my original guard who went to Grey Haven."
"I would prefer eight of the ten dozen from the Third," Archer said.
"They're all in the King's Army," Roen said, "all trained by Brigan's people, all equally competent, and the men who went to Grey Haven already have a natural allegiance to your lady, Archer."
Allegiance wasn't quite the word for it. The soldiers who'd gone to Grey Haven seemed to regard Fire now with something akin to worship; which was, of course, why Archer didn't want them. A number of them had sought her out today and knelt before her, kissed her hand and pledged to protect her.
"Very well," Archer said grumpily, somewhat mollified, Fire suspected, because Roen had referred to Fire as his lady. Fire added immaturity to the things she could accuse him of in the fight they weren't going to have.
"Let's go over the encounter one more time," the spymaster said. "Every one of the encounters, in minute detail. Lady Fire? Please begin again in the forest."
Archer spoke to her finally, an entire week later, when the raptors had gone and so had much of her soreness, and their own departure was imminent. They were at the table in Roen's sitting room, waiting for Roen to join them for dinner. "I cannot bear your silence any longer," Archer said.
Fire had to stop herself from laughing at the joke of it. She noted the two servants standing beside the door, their faces carefully blank while their minds spun excitedly – probably with gossip to bring back to the kitchen.
"Archer," she said. "You're the one who's been pretending I don't exist."
Archer shrugged. He sat back and regarded her, a challenge in his eyes. "Can I ever trust you now? Or must I always be prepared for this brand of heroic madness?"
She had an answer to that, but she couldn't say it aloud. She leaned forward and held his eyes. It was not the first mad thing I've ever done for this kingdom. Perhaps you who know the truth of things should not have been surprised. Brocker won't be, when we tell him what I did here.
After a moment his eyes dropped from hers. His fingers realigned the forks on the table. "I wish you were not so brave."
She had no response to that. She was desperate sometimes, and a little crazy, but she was not brave.
"Are you determined to leave me in this world to live without my heart?" Archer asked. "Because that's what you very nearly did."
She watched her friend play with the fringe of the tablecloth, his eyes avoiding hers, his voice carefully light, trying to look as if he were speaking of something small, like an appointment she'd forgotten that had inconvenienced him.
She reached across the table and held her hand open to him. "Make peace with me, Archer."
At that moment Roen swept through the door and slid into a chair between them. She turned on Archer, eyes narrow and unamused. "Archer, is there a servant girl in my fortress you haven't taken to bed? I announce you're leaving and within minutes two of them are at each other's throats, and another is crying her eyes out in the scullery. Honestly. You've been here all of nine days." She glanced at Fire's open hand. "I've interrupted something."
Archer considered the table for a moment, his fingers caressing the edge of his glass, his mind clearly elsewhere. He sighed in the direction of his plate.
"Peace, Archer," Fire said again.
Archer's eyes settled on Fire's face. "All right," he said reluctantly, taking her hand. "Peace, because war is unbearable."
Roen snorted. "You two have the strangest relationship in the Dells."
Archer smiled slightly. "She won't consent to make it a marriage."
"I can't imagine what's stopping her. I don't suppose you've considered being less munificent with your love?"