you think there are?” Poulet keeps his voice low so it does not carry down into the valley.
Lying on his belly with half his chest hanging over the edge of the ridge, Beast grunts, “Two hundred.”
We are all on our bellies, spying on Rohan’s troops that surround Marshal Rieux’s holding at Châteaugiron, but Beast is the only one risking life and limb. I resist the urge to yank him back from the edge. As if I could budge his great bulk.
Lazare spits off to the side. “Are we sure he’s not working with them?”
It is a fair question, given the marshal’s fickle loyalties in the past. “I think the eight cannon pointed at his castle are a fair indication that he is not,” I say.
Lazare shrugs. “Could be for show.”
“To show whom? No one is coming as far as they know.”
He lets it go, but not without muttering something under his breath. I ignore him and angle my body to better hear what Beast is saying.
“Two hundred men, eight cannon. No other siege engines, except a battering ram.”
“Is that normal?” Gen asks.
Beast shakes his head. “They are trying to stay as nimble as possible.”
Gen stares back down at the heavy cannon, each of them at least five times the weight of Beast. “Those are nimble?”
Beast grins. “Compared to other siege engines. And they can do far more damage in less time.”
“How do a dozen of us overpower two hundred men and their cannon?” Gen muses. To her credit, her voice gives no hint that she thinks the task impossible.
Beast scoots back from the edge. “Very strategically.”
Lazare rolls over and stares up at the sky. “We will foul their powder.”
Aeva frowns at him. “They will have more brought in. Why not simply aim their cannon at them?”
“Cannon aren’t very effective against infantry,” Beast explains. “They’re too scattered to provide a solid target. You might take out a few, but you won’t do any lasting damage.”
Lazare sighs to make sure we all know how we try his patience. “Besides, then we wouldn’t have the gunpowder.”
“Wait. If we want the gunpowder, why not just steal it?” Gen asks.
“Because we don’t want them to suspect anyone is out here working against them.” Lazare shoots her a lopsided grin.
“What is the advantage to having fouled powder?”
He rolls his eyes. “They will send for more. And when they do, we’ll ambush that shipment of powder, and we will have it and not them.” His eyes take on a dreamy, faraway look. “Do you know what I can do with all that powder?
I smile. “I have a good idea.”
Beast nods in approval. “Now we just need to get a message to Rieux to let him know what we’re planning. If timed well, he could use the interval to turn his cannon on them and do some damage without risking his holding.”
We all stare down in silence at the impenetrable fortress surrounded by two hundred foe and wonder how in the name of all the saints we are to get a message through that.
“It’s impossible,” Poulet finally says.
Aeva scoffs. “It’s as easy as breathing.” She motions to the castle. “I get close enough to shoot an arrow over the wall.” I eye the distance dubiously, but if anyone can, it is she. “Unless he’s of duller wit than I remember, he will recognize the fletching as belonging to Arduinna.” She glances at me. “And he can read, can’t he?”
* * *
It is decided, over Beast’s protests, that Genevieve, Aeva, Lazare, and I will be the ones to sneak into Rohan’s camp and foul the powder. The four of us were born to shadow or forest, and we are armed with knives and garrotes, arrows and wineskins.
“We will accompany you as far as the edge of the woods,” Beast insists.
As we head out, Aeva gets close enough to mutter, “He wasn’t nearly this fussy before you got here.”
I shoot her a withering look. “That’s because he doesn’t care what happens to you.”
“Or he knows I’m not as impulsive as some.”
Lazare cuts us off. “Unless you are planning to alert the enemy to our approach, I suggest you all hush your flapping mouths.” We are nowhere close enough for Rohan’s men to hear us, yet we stop talking all the same.
Once we draw near the camp, we spread out. It is more difficult to notice one person moving in the dark than an entire troop. The sentries on night watch do not so much as cast a glance in our