be gentle with me?” Ambrose asked. “I’m only just out of my sickbed. My shoulder’s stiff and I can hardly walk.”
“You can limp well enough.” Geratan darted forward, aiming a cut at Ambrose’s thigh, but Ambrose parried automatically. Geratan nodded. “And it seems your instincts aren’t too bad.”
“This toy sword is useless, nothing like the real thing. A stick would be better.” Ambrose swung the wooden sword left and right, feeling the balance of it—and his own rusti-ness.
“Stop whinging and put a bit of effort in.”
Geratan thrust forward at Ambrose’s other leg, but again was countered by Ambrose, who replied, “Careful what you wish for, Geratan,” as he slipped under his opponent’s guard and slapped him hard on the left thigh. “Or you’ll find yourself beaten by a cripple.”
“Or talked to death,” Geratan replied, attacking again.
Ambrose defended himself with ease. “But I want to talk. You’ve still not told me what you discovered up north.”
Geratan had returned that morning from a scouting ex-pedition on the Northern Plateau to assess the Brigantine positions.
“Any sign of Tash?” asked Ambrose, though he knew if there had been, Geratan would have said. There had been no word from her since she had chosen to go back into the de-mon world to discover more about that strange, underground realm. Perhaps there never would be.
“No. Just a few Brigantines and a lot of midges.”
As he spoke, Geratan left himself open and Ambrose counterattacked, driving Geratan quickly back and knock-ing his sword out of his hand on the third strike. Ambrose struggled to hide his glee, but forced a frown as he rotated his shoulder, muttering louder, “Yes, I’m still very rusty.”
Geratan growled, “Again. I won’t be so easy on you this time.”
Ambrose grinned. “Ah, you let your guard down on pur-pose. I see that now. It was a kindness to an injured man.”
“You don’t seem to have lost your technique, Sir Am-brose,” Davyon called as he approached them. “How’s the leg?”
“I’m limping faster every day.”
“You’re planning on rejoining the war? Or is this sword-play merely for fun?”
“I’m a soldier, Davyon. As soon as I’m well, I’ll return to my position as Catherine’s personal guard.”
If she ever wants to see me again, that is.
Davyon nodded. “A vital role, of course, but we have other plans for you. If you’re fit and able.”
“Other plans. Far from Catherine, I’ll wager. That would suit you and Tzsayn just perfectly, wouldn’t it, Davyon?”
Davyon smiled but his gaze was cool. “Actually, this plan comes from the queen, Sir Ambrose. Come with me and I’ll explain.”
Davyon led Ambrose into a large marquee. Inside were two tables covered with maps. On one, the positions of vari-ous troops were marked by stone figures like tiny chess pieces, with flags to denote their nationality. On the other table were more detailed maps of the Northern Plateau and the area around Rossarb. Ambrose quickly took in the posi-tions of the Pitorians and Brigantines. “I don’t see any Cali-dorian forces anywhere. I would have expected them to have started arriving by now.”
Davyon gave a strained smile. “Actually, a delegation from Calidor arrived yesterday.”
“And?”
“They are standing side by side with us in heart and in spirit.”
Ambrose couldn’t help but give a short laugh. “In heart and spirit but not in body, you mean.”
“That’s pretty much it.”
“So they’ve sent no men?”
“Two graybeards who have done nothing but eat and sleep since they arrived. Mostly sleep. However, it’s not men we need from Calidor at the moment but some of their ships. The ground war is currently static, but we need to regain control of two locations: the Pitorian Sea—hence the need for ships—and the demon world—hence the need for you.”
“Ah, I get the easy option!”
“Yes, the mission is going to be challenging, even for you.”
Challenging or impossible?
“What’s the objective?” Ambrose asked.
“To stop, or at least disrupt, the supply of smoke.”
Ambrose frowned. “But don’t the Brigantines already have all they need? When Geratan told us they were farming the smoke, he said they were getting two bottles a day. They’ve occupied the Northern Plateau for more than a month now. That’s plenty of smoke to keep their boy army going.”
“Actually, we don’t think it is. There are a thousand boys in their army. They need smoke to train with and to use for the real battles to come. We don’t believe they’ve got enough yet.”
Ambrose nodded. “So, what’s your plan?”
“You and a team go up to the plateau and into the demon world through a demon hollow. Geratan’s group have found