"These are your father's enemies, Princess. Now hold still for a moment."
She pulled out a small leather case and opened it. Starlight gleamed on a set of hypodermics; the woman lifted one and tapped it, letting a bead of clear liquid trickle down the needle. There was a slight sting in the girl's arm, and the plunger went home. The spot itched and burned, and then a rush of faintness overtook her for a moment, as if the fire were spreading throughout her body.
"What is -" she began, then gave a muffled squawk of indignation as Katrina clamped her hand back across her mouth.
"Princess, I have your parents' permission to tie you up and gag you if I have to. Now are you going to come along like a good girl?" Mathilda nodded, and her tutor went on: "That was to keep you safe. I took some myself and the feeling goes away in a few minutes. Now let's get ready to go."
She turned in surprise as Liu crawled into the tent, then hissed: "What are you doing, you idiot?"
Liu was upending the leather case that held her books and papers. "Where is it?" he said. "Where is it?"
"Where's what? We've got the princess; let's go before the kilties catch on!"
"Fuck the kilties; that's why we've got the gas! You think the Protector wants us to scoot and go with a chance like this? And where's the book?"
"The book?'" Katrina's face went fluid with shock.
"Yeah, bitch, the book you took from my castle at Gervais," Liu said tightly. His hand moved, and the heavy sword twitched; it was suddenly under Katrina's chin. "And don't ask why. Just don't. Get it!"
Katrina's hand had left Mathilda's mouth as she made an abortive grab at the hilt of the long dagger at her belt.
Mathilda spoke, in a small, quiet voice with a shiver in it, younger than her years. "I loaned it to Rudi," she said. "I'd told him about it. That's why I said to bring it."
Eddie Liu began to swear, softly and venomously. Mathilda swallowed; she knew what most of the words meant, but she also knew there was something very wrong if Baron Liu was talking that way to her.
"Where is the little shit?"
"Eddie!" she whispered. "You're scaring me!"
"Where is he?"
"And here I thought you were a man of initiative," Juniper said, leaning her chin on one palm. "Tsk, tsk. I go to all the trouble of getting my son his own tent-"
On the other side of the table, Nigel Loring laughed softly. "And I thought, dear lady, that it was simply that he must have one if young Miss Arminger had her own."
"He certainly thought so."
His smile died slightly. "Are you quite sure?" he said.
"Quite. As if a little bird had whispered in my ear." Or Herself.
He moved the lamp to the other side of the camp table and reached out both hands; she took them in hers. "I'm a bit older than you-ten years-"
"Oh, hush, Nigel; I discovered my first gray hair some time ago. We're neither of us teenagers in lust. We're middle-aged, and friends. Let's see where that takes us." An impish smile. "And I do covet that fair body of yours, you know."
"Which I assure you is mutual."
They were leaning towards each other when the first shout sounded outside.
Rudi Mackenzie bolted upright at the soft thud of steel in flesh. He made an instinctive grab for the book that slid off his chest, then reached for the knob on the lantern beside his cot. Then he froze; the starlight was just enough for him to see the glitter of cold steel at the entrance to the tent. A huge gauntlet clamped on his ankle with bruising force and yanked him through the entrance and onto the turf beyond in a single motion; behind him the lantern toppled sideways, and there was a rush of flame as the glass shattered and burning wood alcohol rushed out across canvas and cloth.
"Got him, boss!" a voice like gravel dropping into a steel bucket said, and a huge armored figure loomed over him.
"The book, you fuckhead, the book!"
A smaller figure darted through and scooped up the paperback, stuffing it hastily into a pouch at his belt. He swore in relief and then clamped a hand on the back of Rudi's neck.
"Kat, you got the princess? Sorry I was rough, Princess; business. All right-"
Juniper Mackenzie had her sword in her hand as she dashed out into the dark; that was a measure of what she felt, because running around in the dark with two feet of pointed, edged metal in your hand wasn't something you did casually. Light flared up a second later, as someone threw dry wood on the low-burning campfires; the wagons were strung out in a pasture alongside the road, and the tents behind them, with the picket line for the horses beyond that. She squinted:
Rowan was there, panting, his ax in his hands. "Sentries dead on the north end-not a mark on them."
"Damn the man!" Nigel Loring said. "He was talking about launching it with crossbows. Stonebow type, to throw little thin glass containers of it, like pebbles. There would be enough in the carboy of the real thing for some of those."
Juniper felt her mind whirl. "Mathilda!" she said. "That must be it, why he sent that lady in so-called waiting!"
She whirled; Nigel's hand fell on her shoulder. He'd managed to get most of his armor on, somehow.
"They may still have some of it left," he said. "Don't go running in blind."
More and more of her folk were boiling out of their tents. "Rudi," she snapped; that was in the same direction anyway. "Now!"
A dozen of them formed up on her, and they trotted forward. Her back was to the campfires, but there was light ahead too, a sullen red glow mingled with black smoke that smelled rank and hot; burning canvas. Horses neighed, stark fear in the night, and her heart hammered at her ribs.
Then a great calm descended as she saw that it was Rudi's tent that burned. Katrina Georges was there, armed, with Mathilda against her side. The towering form of Mack, several of the knights she'd seen in Sutterdown, out of their disguises now and back in their hauberks: and Eddie Liu, with her son's neck in his hand, and the other gripping some sort of pistollike contraption: no, more like an old-fashioned water pistol but heavy and bulky. The boy's hands were bound behind his back, and there was a rising bruise on the side of his face.
"Hold!" Juniper cried. "Hold, everyone!"
Liu's smile was white in the dimness, framed by his darkened helmet. "Yeah, Ms. Witch, hold it. 'Cause I brought some Raid on this raid." He flourished the pistollike apparatus. "We've all got the antidote. But funny, we didn't give any to Junior here. So if I start spraying this stuff, chances are he may catch some. And it doesn't take much, you know? I got some friends arriving soon, like in minutes, and then we'll all take a ride. And you can send an ambassador to see how your kid is getting on, hey?"
Juniper cast desperate eyes aside at Nigel Loring. He spoke without moving his lips. "Probably not. There wasn't' much of the real agent left. But he may have it in that."
But Arminger would never let my child go, no matter what I did. And he would torment him from spite.
Rudi's eyes met hers; there was no fear in them, only a clear anger, his lips braced tight. Eddie Liu grinned at her.
"Told you I'd make you pay, bitch," he said softly. "Do you like your choices now?"
Hooves sounded in the night, galloping horses pressed to desperate haste. One of the Protectorate knights stooped to take a burning tent pole from the ruins of Rudi's tent, waving it aloft in signal.
Whatever he expected, it wasn't the shaft that hissed out of the night and struck him full in the chest, sinking through the mail and halfway to the feathers. The others shouted and jumped to surround their leaders and the children, raising their shields in a protective fence; Mack swept out the huge blade of his greatsword and poised, growling. Firelight shone on the edges of the hungry swords; then she saw Eilir sitting her Arab behind the attackers, and more of her Dunedain on either side.
Liu jerked Rudi closer and poised the water gun. "One more arrow and he dies!"