He arched both eyebrows at Maigowhyn this time, and the lieutenant frowned. Then his eyes widened.
“And meanwhile the rest of them sneak right past us to the river and meet up with their boats, Sir! You really think that’s what’s happening? ”
“Frankly, what I think is almost certainly happening is exactly what Corporal Zhud thinks is happening, and even if it isn’t, their boats turned back two days ago, so there’s no one to meet them anyway,” Tahlyvyr replied. “But I didn’t get to be a colonel by not hedging my bets.”
“So what do you want to do, Sir?”
“Given that anyone who can see lightning or hear thunder knows about that gunfire, and that all of our good, aggressive, competent junior officers and sergeants are going to be riding to the sound of the guns”-the colonel smiled at his aide-“there’s not a whole lot we can do. About the only people we have who aren’t already off wandering through the woods, hopefully overhauling the miscreants even as we speak, are Lieutenant Wyllyms and his detachment.”
“Yes, Sir,” Maigowhyn said with a slight but discernible lack of enthusiasm, and Tahlyvyr chuckled.
“Not the sharpest pencil in the box, I’ll grant, although I really shouldn’t say it,” he admitted. “That’s why I put him in command of our reserves and the extra horses. It let me keep him out of trouble. Now, unfortunately, it also means he’s the only one I can be sure isn’t off chasing gunfire in the gloaming.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Tahlyvyr gazed back down at the map for several seconds, then sighed.
“It’s a pity he doesn’t have more men, but we are talking about a fairly unlikely eventuality. Take him a message, Brahndyn. He’s to leave half his men to look after the remounts. I want him to take the rest downstream as far as this waterfall.” He tapped the map. “I think it’s the first real fall in the stream, so wherever they were supposed to make rendezvous with those boats that aren’t coming after all, it has to be on the far side of that, which means they have to get past it one way or the other. Tell him I want his men posted at the foot of the fall. And, Brahndyn-try to make him feel that I’m trusting him with this because of his competence, not because he’s the only person I can send, all right?”
“Yes, Sir.” Maigowhyn tried hard not to smile, and the colonel shook his head at him.
“You’re a wicked young man, Brahndyn. I foresee a great future for you.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re welcome.” Tahlyvyr started to wave the lieutenant on his way, then paused. “Oh, and while you’re at it, remind him that the King and Mother Church would really like to have the Prince and Princess back alive. Tell him I don’t want any shooting unless he’s positive he knows what he shooting at.”
Full night had fallen long since, and the moon was sliding steadily up the eastern sky as Tobys Raimair picked his cautious way down the steep hillside to the brink of the river. The rumbling, rushing, pulsing sound as it poured smoothly over the lip of the waterfall to the basin forty feet below was loud in the darkness. In fact, it was a lot louder than Raimair liked. He would have preferred to be able to hear something besides moving water.
Oh, don’t be an old woman, Tobys! he told himself. It’s worked exactly the way the seijin said it would so far, so don’t go borrowing trouble at this point!
He snorted quietly, then turned in the saddle to wave to the others before he started his horse down the rough footpath beside the river. If Seijin Merlin’s description was as accurate as everything else he’d told them, their ride should be waiting for them at the end of the steep switchbacks.
“By God!” Lieutenant Praiskhat Wyllyms blurted. “By God, the Colonel was right, Father!”
“Yes, it would appear he was, my son,” Father Dahnyvyn Schahl agreed. “We shouldn’t take God’s name in vain, however,” he continued in a gently scolding tone.
“Yes, Father. I’m sorry, Father,” Wyllyms said quickly, and Schahl hid a smile at the lieutenant’s well-trained response. He’d often found the kindly tutor’s role most effective in controlling younger men. Especially younger men who weren’t particularly smart, which described young Wyllyms quite well.
But then the temptation to smile disappeared. To be honest, he’d been almost certain Colonel Tahlyvyr was sending Wyllyms off on a wild wyvern chase. Still, there’d been the possibility he wasn’t, and the sad truth was that Schahl was in no position to influence whatever happened when the colonel’s dragoons caught up with the fugitives in the middle of the woods. He could only be in one place at a time, when all was said, and there was no telling which of the pursuers would actually bring their quarry to bay in the end. It would have been nice if Bishop Mytchail had authorized him to tell the colonel what was really going on, although there was clearly a potential downside to such a revelation. Tahlyvyr was likely to balk at simply cutting the throats of a twenty-year-old girl and an eleven-year-old boy, no matter who told him to do it. And explaining why Irys and Daivyn Daykyn had to die would have been getting into waters it was best to keep laymen well out of. For that matter, Schahl rather doubted Bishop Mytchail had told him everything.
Under the circumstances, he’d decided it made sense to attach himself to Wyllyms. However unlikely, it was still possible Wyllyms would encounter their prey, and the inquisitor felt confident of his ability to manipulate Wyllyms into doing what he wanted, especially given his status as Bishop Mytchail’s special representative. That was how he’d planned on explaining his thinking to the bishop afterward, at any rate. No need to mention the fact that he rode like a sack of potatoes and that his buttocks felt scraped raw and treated with salt.
And now it looked like he’d rolled treble sixes, after all.
“What do you intend to do, my son?” he asked.
“I’m going to let them get most of the way down, then catch them on the trail, Father,” the lieutenant explained. “We’ve got the matches shielded as well as we can, so I don’t think anyone’s going to see them as long as we stay well back in the trees, but I’d just as soon keep them from getting too close before we move. And it’s so damned dark-pardon my language, please-down here in the valley that nobody’d be doing any accurate shooting. But if I catch them spread out on the trail in the moonlight, they won’t have any choice but to surrender.”
“I think, perhaps, it might be better to let them get all the way to the base of the fall before you pounce, my son,” Schahl said.
“Excuse me, Father?” It was impossible to see the lieutenant’s expression in the dark, but Schahl heard the confusion in his voice. “The shadows are far darker below the fall, Father,” Wyllyms pointed out respectfully after a moment, “and the moonlight isn’t getting to the bottom the way it is on the trail. That’d make any kind of accurate shooting even harder. And if we let them get off the trail, down here where the going is better, they might actually try to ride right through us. Frankly, with my men already dismounted to use their matchlocks, there’d be a chance they’d get away with it, too.”
Schahl nodded gravely, revising his estimate of Wyllyms’ mental prowess upward… slightly.
“Those are excellent points, my son,” he said. “And I’m a simple priest, of course, not a soldier. Still, it seems to me that if we let them reach the bottom, they’ll have a sense of confidence at having passed the obstacle. That means the shock of suddenly discovering we’re already down here waiting for them will hit even harder. I believe that’s more likely to paralyze their will to fight or flee. And if they do try to break past us, your men can catch them in a crossfire as they go. I think by far the most likely outcome, however, would be that they’d realize they couldn’t possibly escape back up that steep trail and, with an unknown number of troopers between them and escape on the downriver side, they’d surrender. Assuming they’d be willing to surrender under any circumstances, at least.”