“Better send soon,” he grumbled. “It’s fall, the grain carts come in about now. If we’re to winter out here again, we’ll want a proper share of that.”
“By all the gods at once,” the other hissed, “you trying to get us killed? Even his brother don’t try to second-guess the captain!”
“Well, you asked me,” the sentry said as the two men moved away.
M’Baddah waited to be certain both had gone on and only then raised his head. He grinned briefly at his son and the elf.
Middle night saw the three back across the river and struggling to get damp feet into their boots. The sky was clear, the stars casting just enough light to let them pick a path back to the road. Once across it, M’Baddah stepped aside to let Willow lead. Several moments later, he could make out the faint flicker of firelight through the trees and the unmistakable red of Jerdren’s short-cut hair as the man crossed behind the fire. Moments later, they walked into camp.
“We decided against a cold camp,” Jerdren said. “Anything out there can probably smell us out anyway, the fire can’t be seen from the road, and most of us voted against cold stew.” He and Blorys made room for the three. “Mind talking while you’re eating? We know you found someone—couple of men and some horses.”
“We found the camp,” M’Baddah said. He smoothed the dirt before his crossed legs and began drawing a rough map of the camp with his dagger. “The camp itself is a long climb up, on a wide, forested ledge that overhangs the river. A good place for it. The trees are thick enough and the camp set back far enough from the edge that no one could see it until they came upon it. We were fortunate.”
“No,” Eddis said quietly. “You knew the right kind of place to look.”
The outlander cast her a brief smile and went back to his map. Jerdren set aside his cup and rose to look over the man’s shoulder. “The site is compact, built around three central fires. There is a trail, here, the way we came. We could not find another trail leading down from the camp.”
“Then I’ll wager there isn’t one,” Jerdren said.
“We were able to listen to men talking—at the river, outside the camp, and several in the camp itself. They see no reason to keep watch around the camp, merely a man or two awake at night in case creatures or men come upon them. This has apparently not happened, so the camp guard may be awake, but I doubt he is vigilant. There is also a path that leads up, and it climbs very steeply, from what we could see. That goes to the sentry watch we expected, and they do watch the road and much of the Keep from there. There are at least thirty-four men, and I think there may be as many as forty.”
“Two or three apiece, with a few left over?” Jerdren grinned. “I’d call it bad odds for them, wouldn’t you?”
“On ground they’re familiar with and we aren’t?” Blorys asked.
Eddis caught his eye and shook her head. Jerdren shrugged and gestured for M’Baddah to go on.
“There is a large tent here.” The outlander indicated a place just back from the north and southwest fire pits. “It seems to be for their captain to hold meetings. He and his brother also sleep in there. The horse line is south, where the cliffs rise up steeply, and the rest of the men sleep under a long canvas, or in the open, according to their choice. The drop-off is to the north—there. It hangs over the river, I believe, but the edge is near enough the camp that we did not go there.”
He glanced up and nodded to Willow, who took the dagger and his place at the rough-drawn map.
“To the west—here,” the elf said, “I found crates covered in waterproof blankets. They are grain and food stores mostly. I checked what I could of them. No gems, gold, or coins there, but I would say that any wealth must be kept in the captain’s tent. By what I overheard, he trusts very few of his men.”
“The men who attacked you, Jerdren, were from that camp,” M’Baddah went on. “It seems one of you cost them their cook. There was much grumbling over the lack of skills of this Blot, who has taken over his duties.”
Blorys got to his feet and moved to where he could gaze over the elf’s shoulder at the map. “Clear enough. One way in, but they aren’t keeping watch over it—lazy or foolish, I’d say.”
“Perhaps,” M’Baddah said, “but it has worked well for them, until now. One thing you and your men did, Jerdren—they have no plans for another ambush right away. The last one was bad for the men’s morale.”
Eddis smiled at him. “Good work,” she said. “We’ve found their camp, we know what it looks like, and we’ve got a good idea what we’re facing here. I like that. Still…” She frowned at her fingers, then turned to her co-captain. “Jerdren, you may not like this, but hear me out, will you? I’m concerned about numbers. M’Baddah says probably forty of them. I know that you fought some of their men, and you weren’t very impressed, but that doesn’t mean all of them are poor fighters. They’ll be on their home ground, fighting for their lives and a way of life that’s been pretty good for them so far. We’re good in a fight, all of us—we’ve proved that. But I want you to think about what the odds are really going to be like here.”
His lips twitched, and he rolled his eyes.
She gave him a cold look. “I’m not done yet, and it’s just a suggestion, but what if we waited for their next raiding party to move out, then ambushed those men before we went after the camp? Say they send out—how many attacked your wagons, twelve? Fine, that’s twelve fewer men when we go after the camp itself. Now, I’d wager we could take the raiders by complete surprise. They’d be thinking ahead to the fight and what they could steal, and never expect to be ambushed themselves, would they?”
“It’s an idea,” Jerdren said. “Has its points. But two things. We can’t be sure what parts of the road a sentry can see from up there. They see us attacking their men, and they’ll know we’re onto them.”
“If we hit them after dark, it won’t matter,” Eddis broke in.
“Sure, but one of them might get away from us in the dark, make it back and warn the camp, and there goes the surprise. I still say forty of them against us is bad odds for them, but only if they don’t expect us. Other thing is, what would we do with prisoners? Tie ’em up and leave ’em for the orcs? Walk ’em up the road to the Keep, where their sentry could see us? I didn’t much like having to order those men executed this afternoon, Eddis.”
Silence. She finally sighed faintly and shook her head.
“Good,” he went on. “Now, I say we send M’Baddah or Willow back up there, maybe a couple of our other quiet-footed men with ’em so more of us know what this place looks like. Make sure this evening was part of a regular pattern. The rest of us be ready, because once the camp’s mostly asleep, we get into position and hit ’em hard, from all three sides, kill those we have to, make prisoners of the rest.” He glanced at one of the spearmen. “The castellan got a lot of dungeon cells?”
“A few,” the man replied, “but they’re large and mostly empty. Keep folk tend to avoid ’em.”
“Good. Maybe we even let a man or two escape, because that way word gets around that men of their kind would do well to avoid the Keep.”
Eddis shifted. There must be a hole in his logic. At the moment though, she couldn’t find it. Sleep on it, she thought.
“We’ll need a real map, M’Baddah. Maybe he can make us one on the back of yours, Jerdren?” She gazed thoughtfully at the smoothed dirt and traced the line of the path up from the river.
Full dark the next night saw the company crouched along the north shore of the river, opposite the large island, waiting for M’Baddah’s all-clear signal. Jerdren lay flat on the island, as near the water as he could go without breaking cover. Eddis was on his right and his brother beyond her, the rest nearby. The ground was cold and damp, and he was about to ease up onto his knees when the jingle of harnesses and men’s low voices froze him in place. It was too far and the water just too loud for him to make out words.