I will strangle you.”
“Sybella?”
And then all thoughts of caution and formality are cast aside as she comes running out from behind the hillock of hay, her crossbow forgotten. I meet her halfway, throwing my arms around her, my throat tightening at the sight and feel of my oldest friend. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.”
“We’ve been so worried,” she says.
“It is you!” Duval drops his own weapon and rushes forward, he and Beast coming together with the force of boulders crashing. “What are you doing here?” Duval asks.
“Us? We were expecting Marshal Rieux’s garrison commander, or maybe the marshal himself—and we find you. That is a most favorable trade.”
Duval shakes his head. “I should have known it was you, you cunning bastard.”
“You did know it was him,” Ismae points out. “It was your first guess.”
Beast’s pleased grin nearly splits his face in two. Duval claps a hand on his back. “Let’s go someplace less exposed so we may talk. I have a feeling this meeting does not bode well for our predicament.”
Before we mount up, some introductions are in order. I pull Ismae over to where Genevieve waits with Aeva. “Ismae, I want you to meet your new sister, Genevieve.”
Ismae rolls her eyes. “I wish she wouldn’t do that,” she tells Gen. “As if finding sisters lurking all over the country isn’t awkward enough.”
Her honesty surprises a smile from Gen. “I am finding it not such a terrible thing to discover unexpected sisters.”
* * *
By the time we reach Rieux’s holding, I have filled Ismae in on most of the events of the last months. As we are ushered into the keep, keeping my voice low, I ask, “Have you heard anything from Annith?”
“There have been no crows since you left Rennes. Although they would not know where to find me, as we had to leave shortly after you did.”
Marshal Rieux comes out to greet us just then, thanking Beast for his timely intervention. “We’re glad to be able to help, and had hoped to speak with you to find out what exactly Rohan is planning and whether you could tell me how to find Duval. To have accomplished both in one fell swoop feels lucky indeed,” Beast says.
“Why are you both here?” I ask Duval and Ismae.
There is a moment of awkward silence before Rieux answers. “They came to accuse me of being involved in Rohan’s plans,” he says dryly. “At knifepoint.”
Ismae rolls her eyes. “I did not pull my knife on him. I merely set it on the table.”
“A fine distinction, indeed,” Rieux says, clearly not over the affront.
“We were quickly disabused of our suspicions,” Duval says, trying to smooth things over, “but Rohan’s army arrived before we could take our leave. How many troops will the king be sending to combat Rohan’s forces?”
Beast and I exchange glances. “None,” Beast says quietly, then explains why.
When he has heard, Duval leaves the table where we are all gathered and heads for the window, to gain control of himself, I think. “It’s even worse than I thought,” he finally says.
“That’s why we’re here.” Beast’s voice is filled with such certainty, such assurance—as if he will make it happen through sheer will alone.
Marshal Rieux looks up from the map. “You are but a handful of men.” It is not said unkindly, simply a recitation of the truth.
Beast grins. “We are a handful of men with six kegs of powder and your garrison. Those are better numbers than we had yesterday.”
Duval’s mouth quirks up at the corner, and he looks back to the map, as if seeing it with new eyes. “And what, pray tell, do you propose we do with such an overwhelming force?”
“From my time in Brittany three weeks ago, I know Rohan has troops here, here, here, here, and here.” He points to Ancenis, Rochefort-en-Terre, Malestroit, Vannes, and Quimper.
Marshal Rieux’s face turns gray. “He holds the south,” he says.
“But not with a tight fist,” Beast says. “His men are drawn thin. And each of those holdings and cities has a garrison that can fight, if they can get out. How many troops do you have here at Châteaugiron?”
“Four hundred.”
“And here?”
“Eight hundred.”
In all, Rieux has two thousand troops spread out among his holdings.
“Your holdings are our best crack in their defenses,” Beast says. “You have men garrisoned there who are loyal to you. They need only a way out and your blessing. I can provide the former,” Beast says solemnly.
“And I will gladly provide the latter.” Rieux’s color has returned somewhat.