he replied.
“If you’re suggesting my loyalty is in question then you risk facing a challenge,” growled Lustral. Will didn’t flinch, merely waiting, his face empty of expression as he stared evenly into Lustral’s eyes. Eventually the duke looked away. “If not, then let me reiterate my advice. We should take the northern road. It’s longer and less travelled, and it’s my belief they’re less likely to have prepared it against us.”
“Your opinion is duly noted. We take the southern road tomorrow,” Will pronounced. “Meeting adjourned.”
Will woke well before dawn the next morning. Because of the massive army’s extended schedule, First Division’s day started two hours before dawn, whereas Sixth Division wouldn’t be rising until two hours after dawn. This was all to accommodate the fact that the road and its verges could only admit so many men and wagons through a given mile at any given time.
Breaking camp was somewhat quicker than making it, and the army was moving within an hour of waking, trudging through the dim twilight of false dawn that preceded the true dawn an hour later. Laina rode to his left, while Renly and Darla followed a short distance behind them. Conversation was limited by the fact that none of them were in the mood, given the hour.
After the sun came up Gregory Nicht, the sub-marshal with command over First and Second Division, came alongside them. The young man seemed to have gained vitality since they had left Barrowden, for there was a spark in his eye and energy in his voice. “Do you think we’ll make contact today?” asked the young baron.
Spoken like someone who’s never seen the awful results of war, thought Will sourly. Then again, maybe I’m just pissed because I didn’t sleep well. “I certainly hope not,” he replied somberly. “If we start fighting in the highlands, it will be messy.”
Baron Fulstrom rubbed his patchy beard, doubtless he hoped it would get thicker with age. It was probably meant to make him look older, but the downy fuzz failed its purpose. “True, but if they stopped us here, we couldn’t get around them without backtracking.”
“Sixth is still rolling up their bedding,” said Will. “They could take the other road and be behind them in a few days, faster than we could even if they weren’t blocking us.”
“Unless they blocked both roads,” mused the baron.
“Except we began the campaign before they were ready. The scouts all returned last night, and both roads were clear from Klendon to our position. They would have to have had all their forces poised at Klendon, with better intelligence than we have, for that to happen.”
“True. But what if—”
Will growled. “You were at the meeting last night Sub-marshal. We went over this. If you had a substantive concern with our plan, you should have brought it up then.”
“Sorry,” said the sub-marshal. “I’m just excited and my mind is racing. When that happens I can’t keep my tongue from flapping. I just start rambling.” Gregory glanced at Will, noting his sour face. “Are you under the weather?”
“I’m grumpy as hell,” grumbled Will, causing Laina to snicker for a moment. “Getting up and riding in the freezing cold is bad enough, but doing it on the way to a war makes it even worse.”
The sub-marshal grinned. He seemed to be one of those who would acknowledge someone else’s mood, but still didn’t know they should be quiet. “I heard a lot about your exploits during the invasion of Barrowden. Aren’t you looking forward to giving the Darrowans another dose of their own medicine?”
Will didn’t say anything for several minutes, creating an uncomfortable silence that dragged on and on. Baron Fulstrom had resigned himself to the lack of conversation when Will suddenly spoke again. “Have you ever beaten a man to death with a club, Sub-Marshal?”
The sub-marshal blinked. “Pardon?”
“Have you ever snuck up on someone who was asleep on watch, then beaten them to death with a staff? Not just the first fellow either, but his friend who came to his defense a moment later—I did. I’m not sure if the second one died from the bludgeoning, or if he froze to death in the snow later since he couldn’t walk with all the broken bones.”
Gregory Nicht stared at him, unsure how to respond.
“No one ever realizes how long it takes either. Sometimes you get lucky and they die quickly, but most of the time they don’t. They struggle and cry, putting arms, legs, anything they can in the way to