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  People were crowded around a table spread with hand-drawn maps and littered with drawing tools. They included Julianna; Finn; Lyss’s lieutenants, Littlefield, Mason, and Farrow; Trailblazer for the Demonai; plus Barnes and Kenton, the two captains of the added salvos. And two roughly dressed people Alyssa didn’t recognize.

  Julianna looked up as Lyss entered. “Here’s Captain Gray,” she said to the strangers. “She’ll be able to speak to whether we can use the cannons on the heights. Captain, meet Brit Fletcher and Yorie Cooper, Patriots of Delphi.”

  Fletcher was a scruffy middle-aged man with a weather-beaten face and bushy salt-and-pepper hair. Cooper was a stocky, muscular girl with a ragged cap of black hair who might be just a year or two older than Lyss. They were both keeping a weather eye on Finn, the wizard in the room, as if he might burst into flame at any moment. And Trailblazer, in her Demonai warrior garb.

  Lyss moved forward to the table, stripping off her heavy gloves and flexing her fingers. It was still so cold in the tent that she could see her breath.

  “Did somebody mention cannons?” she said.

  “We’ve got six twenty-four-pounders on the heights above the town,” Fletcher said. “They can be yours, if you want them, if you move quick. There’s no scouts to the north of there—I mean, who’d be fool enough to be skulking around up there this time of year?” The Patriot snorted laughter at his own joke.

  “You’re sure of that?” Trailblazer said.

  Fletcher nodded. “We’ve got a lot of hidey-holes up there, so we keep a close eye on the area around the mines.”

  “They’ve learned that them that wander around by themselves never make it home,” Cooper said, with a wink.

  “Anyways, staffing is light,” Fletcher said. “They’re getting ready for Solstice, and there’s already a lot of drinking going on.”

  “Is there ammunition for the guns?” Lyss asked.

  “Tons,” Cooper said, grinning. “Stored in armories all along the cliff face. Canister shells and solid shot, both. Because the guns an’t rifled, they’ll shoot most anything. Nobody’s touched ’em since Arden took over on account of the ones they want to shoot at are up the hill instead of down the hill.”

  Lyss rubbed her hands together as if sitting down to a feast. This was like an extra-special Solstice gift. “Would we need to supply gunners, or are there still Patriots who know how to use them?”

  “We an’t been under Arden’s thumb for that long,” Fletcher growled. “We dug the coal, we made the steel, we cast the barrels, and we can sure as hell fire ’em.”

  “How are conditions between here and there?” Mason asked. “Can we bring our horses through?”

  “There’s snow, of course, but it an’t too deep on the lee side,” Cooper said.

  Lyss had been studying the maps while they talked. “The army is here?” She pointed.

  Fletcher nodded. “They commandeered a manor house between the mines and the town. That way, they can get a jump on trouble either place. The headquarters an’t well fortified. I guess they don’t think they need that to defend against a pack of miners.”

  “I still don’t like it,” Trailblazer said. “We have to go too far out into the flatlands to get at them.”

  “That an’t the flatlands,” Cooper said.

  “It is to us,” Lyss said. “Out there, their numbers work for them. If we have a choice, we’d prefer to attack from cover.”

  “We’d just as soon you didn’t bring the big fight close to town anyway,” Fletcher said. “The people living there don’t have much to start with, and I’d hate to see it burnt up or hexed or blown up or whatever.” He cast a wary look at Finn, his amulet in plain view over top of his spattercloth.

  “You should also know there’s some blackbirds been snooping around Delphi,” Fletcher went on. “King Gerard’s personal guard. There’s always some of ’em there, mind you, smacking us down, but these is extras. They’ve been there for a couple of months.”

  That caught Lyss’s ear. Could it mean that King Gerard was somewhere within reach?

  “What are they doing there?” she asked.

  “Fighting the plague,” Fletcher replied, matter-of-fact.

  “The plague!” Julianna said, looking dismayed. “There’s plague in Delphi? I hadn’t heard that.”

  “That’s what they’re saying, anyway,” Cooper said. “Some say it’s a lie.” It was clear from her expression that she fell into the latter camp.

  “But why would they claim there is plague if it isn’t true?” Lyss asked.

  Fletcher shrugged. “About a month after the guard arrived, we was told that some of their mudbacks had caught the plague from women in town.”

  “So the next thing you know,” Cooper said, “there are notices all over town that women have to come in and be inspected and get their hair cut.”

  “What does their hair have to do with it?” Lyss looked from Fletcher to Cooper.

  “They say the women have, uh, vermin in their hair, Captain, ma’am,” Fletcher said. “Bugs. And that carries the plague. So they have to have it cut off. Karn and his men have been handling all of that.”

  Karn!

  “You’re telling me Marin Karn is up in Delphi cutting women’s hair?” Shadow leaned forward, his face sharp with interest.

  “Not General Karn,” Fletcher said. “Lieutenant. Big Karn’s son. Young Karn don’t seem happy about being here, neither.”

  “Do you think the king gave him this assignment?” Julianna said. “Is this some kind of punishment?”

  Fletcher laughed. “I have no idea. The king and the Lieutenant don’t confide in me. All I know is, I’ve seen no sign of plague in Delphi.”

  “He’s bringing all the women in,” Lyss said slowly. “So he’s looking for someone?” Who could be hiding here that Arden wanted to find?

  “Seems like,” Fletcher replied. “I can’t imagine who. Hell, maybe it’s just one more way to humiliate us. It an’t bad enough they force everyone into the mines.” He gestured at Lyss. “They’ve got girls and boys younger ’n you, spending twelve hours a day underground.”

  “It can’t go on too much longer,” Cooper said, “’cause they’re running out of women. They’ve begun searching house to house.”

  “If Marin Karn’s son is here,” Trailblazer said softly, “then we should find a way to take him alive.”

  “I don’t know how much leverage that would give us,” Lyss said. “I’m guessing the general is not the sentimental type.” She paused. “Remind me—who commands the mudbacks here in Delphi?”

  “A Captain Halston Matelon,” Fletcher said. “He’s been here a year or thereabouts.”

  “He’s got the reputation of an up-and-comer,” Julianna said, as if eager to contribute. “He’s risen quickly through the ranks, and his father’s on the Thane Council. Though lately Matelon Senior has been on the outs with the king.”

  “What do the civilians here think of Matelon Junior?” Lyss directed this to the two Patriots.

  Fletcher and Cooper looked at each other. “He an’t so bad,” Cooper said. “He’s a mudback, not a blackbird, and that’s in his favor.”

  “So, we’re all agreed that it would be good to draw their troops farther north, away from the town, toward the mountains,” Trailblazer said, as if eager to get the conversation back to killing southerners. “Then we could fight from protection, and in conditions they’re not fond of.”

  Lyss brushed her fingers over the faded ink of the map, stopping on the spot labeled “Number 2 Mine.” It was snugged up against the southern wall of the mountains. “Who’s up at the mines?”

  Fletcher blinked at her owlishly. “Well, at any given time there’s hundreds of miners underground. But like I said before, only a handful of soldiers to keep the peace.”

  “But what if there was trouble at the mines?” Lyss persisted. “Maybe a riot of some kind?”

  Cooper shrugged. “There’s been riots before, but it n
ever really accomplished much in the long run except send a few miners to the gallows. For every southerner we kill, they kill three of us.”

  “I’m talking something big. Would the army respond to something like that?”

  Now Fletcher got it, too. “You know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “that could happen. We do like to blow things up.”

  “That would bring them in range of the cannons, too,” Littlefield said.

  “I could create some fireworks,” Finn said, fingering his amulet.

  “No!” Cooper’s face reddened, as all eyes turned her way, but she stood her ground. “I mean, if you start off with magecraft, that might tip ’em off,” she mumbled. “Our work might not be so . . . uh . . . fancy, but we’ll get a response, don’t worry.”

  “Maybe not to start,” Lyss said to Finn, “but once we get the army up there, I think some fireworks might be just the thing to convince them to surrender.”

  “One thing that worries me,” Julianna said, “is that you mentioned there are children working in the mines. I’d hate for them to get caught up in all this.”

  “Aye,” Fletcher said. “There’s lýtlings—and women, too.”

  Cooper ran her fingers along her jaw. “We can try to keep the lýtlings out of harm’s way. It won’t be easy, without giving away the plan. As for the women, they have a grudge to settle with the occupiers. You might find many of them have no intention of sitting it out. Women of Delphi are made of steel and iron. They will make their presence felt.”

  Lyss nodded. “As long as they understand the risk.” She moved on to the Highlanders. “Mason, your first arrivals have been resting for several hours. I need fifty ready to ride in an hour.”

  Mason saluted and left the tent.

  “Trailblazer, can I count on the Demonai to handle the soldiers on the heights and take control of the cannons without raising an alarm?”

  “Consider it done,” Trailblazer said, unfolding to her feet with the grace of a predator.

  21

  SOLSTICE IN DELPHI

  It was Solstice Eve in Delphi, and Hal was trying to think of something suitably vague and cheerful that he could write to his little sister. He’d been at it an hour, and he was already on his fourth attempt.

  Dear Harper,

  Another year nearly gone—can you believe it? I wish I could be with you and Mother for the holiday. I’d give a month’s pay for one of your Solstice cakes and a basket of sweet oranges. There’s lots of ice and snow here, so the gloves you sent are much appreciated. All the other soldiers here are jealous of me.

  And some of them are trying to kill me.

  Hal slammed down his quill, leaving a large blot of ink on the page. Crumpling it in his fist, he sent it after the others into the flames. He poked at the fire on the hearth until the page was consumed, then fingered the silver thimble that he always wore on a chain around his neck—a gift from Harper, to keep him from harm.

  Maybe he should just enclose a signed card with his gift—a beaded leather journal that the vendor in the market said was clan-made. He knew she would love it; he just needed something of himself to go with.

  Dear Harper,

  Happy Solstice! Thank you for the gloves. Robert and I are spending Solstice together. We can’t wait to see you again.

  Love,

  Your brother Hal

  He folded it and tucked it into the dispatch bag with Harper’s present and the silver chain he’d bought his lady mother.

  Look on the bright side, Halston, his mother liked to say. Don’t be so gloomy.

  Hal tried to think of an upside to his current situation. Well, he had gained some survival skills in a place that seemed dedicated to putting him in the ground. These days, he varied his schedule, he never took his meals in his quarters, and he never went anywhere without his small guard of trusted men. He kept his mind sharp and his fighting skills sharper.

  Next he’d be hiring a taster, like the king himself.

  On the other hand, he was still in Delphi, and his prospects for surviving another year seemed bleak at best.

  It had been nearly three months since Hal had led his ragtag band of survivors in a disciplined retreat from Queen Court. At least he’d managed to prevent further casualties. When he rejoined Karn’s battalions on the Alyssa Plateau, the general didn’t bother to hide his surprise and disappointment. When Karn questioned Hal’s decision to call a retreat short of capturing the Vale, Hal looked into Karn’s tobacco-spit eyes and reported that all four of his mages had been driven mad by northern sorcery and turned on them, so they’d had to be put down. That had forced their withdrawal from the field.

  That ended the conversation, but Hal knew that it wasn’t the end of his troubles.

  He was right. His younger brother Robert, a corporal, was posted to Delphi in late fall. Hal heard the message loud and clear: Here’s another back to watch. If we can’t get to you, your brother will do. It seemed that Delphi was meant to be the graveyard for Matelons. He wrote to his father, who sent this advice: Look after Robert, do your duty, and watch your back.

  The problem with looking after Robert was that his little brother was eager to prove himself, and resisted Hal’s attempts to keep him close.

  We should engrave that on the Matelon coat of arms, Hal thought. Do your duty and watch your back.

  Better watch your back, flatlander.

  The girl they called the Gray Wolf still haunted his dreams. Her savage smile, her sun-burnished skin, the fearless way she flung herself, howling, into battle. The way she’d looked at him when his own men turned on him—as if she wanted to know what kind of commander led scrips to a slaughter and inspired a mutiny of mages on the battlefield. He found himself wanting to explain.

  It’s not what it seems, he would say. It’s complicated.

  After he returned to Delphi, he’d asked about the Fellsian officer known as the Gray Wolf. All he got was a mixture of scare stories and cautionary tales. None of which were useful.

  Maybe she was a witch. A sorceress. Isn’t that what everyone said, that northern women could steal a man’s soul?

  She might be a sorceress, but she looked like a soldier to him. Or a shieldmaiden from a story.

  Soon after Robert’s arrival, Marin Karn’s son came to town. He was a lieutenant in the king’s blackbird guard. Hal’s first thought was that the younger Karn had been sent to spy on him. His second was that little Karn was being punished for something. When Lieutenant Karn began rounding up women and cutting their hair, Hal quit trying to sort him out. Finally, a few days before Solstice, Karn was involved in a brawl in a tavern in town. Marc Clermont, the captain of the King’s Guard, was killed, as was the tavern keeper. With that, young Karn took a crew of blackbirds and fled straight back to the capital.

  Clermont was gone, and that might be worth celebrating, but Hal guessed he’d better wait until he found out who was chosen to replace him. As bad as things were, they could always get worse.

  Look on the bright side, Halston.

  Hal didn’t have a lot to look forward to, these days, but he was looking forward to Solstice. He’d sent Robert south to Temple Church on a trumped-up errand, planning to join him there for the holiday. He and Robert could wash Delphi from their skins and cleanse their souls with good Tamron wine and eat some decent food for a change. It would be a good way to launch the new year.

  His reverie was interrupted by a pounding at the door. Hal swore softly. That never brought good news in Delphi.

  Dupont, the duty officer, burst in, waving a dispatch. “We’ve had a bird from Shively, up at the mines,” he said. “There’s trouble.”

  Who starts trouble just before Solstice? Hal thought, with a prickle of annoyance. He unrolled the message, flattening it on his desk with his hands.

  Facing large mob of armed miners outside the Number 2 mine. Send help soonest. Suggest a battalion at minimum.

  Hal tapped the dispatch with his forefinger. From what he h
ad seen during his year in Delphi, Shively was a mean-spirited bully who’d end up at the bottom of a mine with his throat cut one day. Like most bullies, he was a coward, too, and tended to call for help at the least sign of unrest. They were short-staffed to begin with, because of holiday leaves.

  Hal sighed. He had to respond. The mine had to keep producing. “Sergeant, take a company up to the mine, and see what—”

  A huge blast shook the foundation of the manor house, sending bits of plaster raining down on their heads. Hal and Dupont stared at each other, then raced to the door.

  To the north, up against the backdrop of the mountains, flames were shooting high into the air. The mine headquarters was ablaze.

  Hal swore softly. Sorry, Robert, he thought. Change of plans. He bade good-bye to his own holiday plans as he ruined countless others. “All leaves are cancelled, effective immediately,” he told Dupont. “Sound the officers’ call on the double. It’s going to be a long, bloody night.”

  In the end, Hal took two full battalions to the Delphian mines, leaving only a skeleton crew behind. He hoped a show of overwhelming force would put a stop to the trouble with minimal bloodshed. The ringleaders would have to be executed, of course, but hopefully no more than those. Even his most brutal critics in the capital would support that approach. Arden couldn’t afford to slaughter the miners who wrenched coal and iron ore from the ground. He warned his officers to keep a tight rein on their men, since they were already in a mood to teach the snarling dogs of Delphi a lesson.

  They climbed the long slope from the army headquarters at a killing pace. As they marched, explosions continued to light up the dark mountains. It seemed that the miners were trying to do the same to the Number Two mine as they had to Number One.

  His own men and horses were facing into the storm, and the wind drove the snow into their faces. Ice formed in their hair and mustaches and anything exposed to the weather. Hal worried that by the time they arrived in the hills that enclosed the Delphi mines, they would be as spent as if they had already worked a hard day.