A Shore Too Far - By Kevin Manus-Pennings Page 0,21

I said. “If the Kullobrini intend an attack, then time is against them.”

“And you’ve just sent their two princes to Abringol.… Cutting the head from the snake, are we?” Gwey asked, his eyes glinting.

I looked away from his admiration and studied the lumps in my tea.

“Four slow hours to Abringol, some waiting to make them feel their shame.” I shrugged again. “It buys us a day, maybe two. And…”

“And?” Gwey loved to compare our tactics. He often thanked the Nine Fathers that I was not a competitor.

“And when the merchants and healers begin their work,” I said, “we’ll see who’s next in line to lead.”

Gwey laughed out loud and shook his head.

“You would ruin me in a week,” he said, laughing.

I sipped my tea and held my tongue.

***** ***** *****

After a few hours, Gwey followed his caravan into the tents, though he hoped to return that evening and give me his impressions. I kissed him as he left and watched him disappear into our kingdom’s pressing mystery.

Gonnaban had little to report. The tent city was vast, larger than we imagined, perhaps as much as a day-and-a-half’s ride round to its north side, and much of that was through scrub brush with few roads. Our scouts to the east were in place, but the northern outpost would have only just reached its lookout. Communications could now be added to our list of challenges.

“I’m not afraid to say I’m sick of this,” Gonnaban said, stooped over a campfire among our cavalry’s camps.

“You never know everything in battle, Gonnaban,” I reminded him.

“Something would be a change, miss. They lie to us. They land troops here. And children.” Gonnaban shook his head like a horse shooing flies and then spit into the fire. “After it all, I’d argue to attack if I knew what it was we were attacking.”

“We’ll get news this evening,” I said. “Gwey will talk. You’ll question the other merchants, and Eric’s infantry will send reports from their time with the healers.”

“All due respect, miss, it’s the waiting I love,” Gonnaban said bitterly, pushing embers around in the fire. “Another few days of this and I’ll take the Kullobrini on myself.”

“Reinforce the scouts,” I ordered. “Six men. No more two-men units. If the scouts are so far apart, it leaves a man alone for far too long.”

“Eight men, begging your pardon, ma’am. Dispatched this morning.” He pushed another ember and struck it idly with a stick. Sparks flew and cooled in the breeze.

“You’re better than I deserve, Gonnaban.”

“Not by a long shot, ma’am, thanks all the same,” said Gonnaban.

I left him stooped over the fire, gazing at ember and ash, and walked around the lookout hill and toward my tent.

In the distance, a group of Kullobrini soldiers and my own men were crouched over a flattened piece of earth. Their heads followed some invisible movement on the ground between them, dice in all likelihood. Color and country aside, all men off duty needed a way to pass the time.

Another toss and again heads turned. A second later, men were throwing coins down in defeat while others slapped knees at their good fortune.

I stopped outside my tent and envied them their pastime.

Again, a distant hand released distant dice, but the game had worn thin. One of my men threw his hands up in frustration and pointed angrily to the ground. A Kullobrini stepped toward him, and the rest of the game stiffened at the confrontation. Men from both sides were beginning to move toward the group of gamblers.

“Gonnaban!” I called.

Hoofbeats later, Gonnaban swung off his horse. He landed and followed my gaze. Without a word, he was on his horse again and off. He shouted for my two cavalry colonels as more men of both sides were drawn to the standoff.

Suddenly one of the men drew a sword, and the flash and clang that had so filled my life reached my ears yet again.

Gonnaban didn’t slow his horse and rode straight into the growing brawl, sending both sides sprawling. In one motion he was off the horse and kicking downed Kullobrini and Avandi alike. Gonnaban’s tirade and demeanor stopped each would-be combatant in his tracks as he approached the area to help his compatriots. One Kullobrini picked himself up and made to approach Gonnaban, but the grizzled veteran did not pause, pushing the man chest to chest until the dark-skinned soldier fell and scrabbled back in the dust.

Gonnaban’s sense of the men had always mesmerized me. Only he would end a fight