other brigades to build the ranks. It now comprised twenty boys, whose main roles were to act as Harold’s personal guard, and in March’s case, his personal assistant.
The prince’s camp was spread through the forest, extending farther every day as more people heard of their location and came to provide services. Food provisions—the store of flour and vegetables, as well as pigs, geese, chickens, goats, and even a herd of cows—were on one side of the camp. The horses, saddles, and armory took up space on the south side. And here also was the farrier, and by him, the other blacksmiths constructing the strange metal contraptions that Harold delighted in. The prince had designed the machines himself, and twice a day went to see the progress on their manufacture.
The morning’s inspection was now over, and a new man had arrived in camp. He seemed to be a soldier, in that he wore a sword and rode into camp with his own men, and he sent a nervous panic among some who recognized him. He was slim, fit, stylishly dressed, and old enough to be Harold’s father, but it was the way he held himself that struck March—he was a man who could blend into the background or be center stage with a simple change of posture. This man had a rare confidence that March had only ever seen in roy-alty, a few nobles, and, indeed, Holywell.
March stood at the side of the marquee by a table laden with fruits, nuts, and—Harold’s favorite—preserved gin-ger. He looked ahead as he’d been trained to, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Harold and the new man.
“I sent for the Eagles and Stags. Where are they?” de-manded the prince.
“Your father wanted them near him.”
“But the boys’ brigades are mine to command.”
“And you are your father’s to command, Your High-ness.”
“And what about the smoke? Where is that? We were promised more.”
“It will be here when it’s needed, when all is in place.” The man’s voice was soft as butter, and he appeared to be as slippery.
“It is needed. All is in place.” Harold frowned. “So, why are you here? You bring no boys and no smoke. Are you here to spy for my father, Noyes?”
So that was the man’s name: Noyes. And March recalled a few things he’d heard. This was King Aloysius’s dreaded spymaster and chief interrogator. He had a reputation for be-ing intelligent and ruthless.
Noyes sauntered over to the table by March and surveyed the food, not even looking at Harold as he replied: “The king merely asks for my reassurance that all is well. You’re still a young man, and, though naturally gifted, you are relatively inexperienced.”
Harold came to stand by Noyes, and he did indeed seem like a small boy in comparison. “I’ve watched my father all my life. I’ve been on campaigns with him since I was a baby. I know I can win this. Brigant needs a victory.”
“That’s true, Your Highness. But your father also needs an heir. And he doesn’t want to risk losing another son. It’s only because of his love for you that he demands caution and that he asks for my reassurance.”
“Love? From my father?” Harold rolled his eyes. “Is he still mourning Boris?”
“Your father has much grief and anger to deal with. Bo-ris’s death has diverted his attention from Calidor. Thelonius took land from Aloysius, but your sister and her sickly husband have taken his first-born son. His top priority now is to rid the world of them. And the attack will begin soon.”
“Meanwhile Thelonius sits in his castle eating honey. He’ll be laughing with delight.”
“There’s no rush. Calidor will be ours in time.” Noyes picked up a segment of candied orange and seemed to swallow it down whole.
“I say the time is right now. I say my brigades are ready. I can do it. My boys will be victorious.”
“Getting over the wall won’t be easy, even for your boys.”
“I know the exact dimensions of the wall—it was your spies who gave us all the information we need, as you know, Noyes. And I’ve sent my own scouts out too. I have a way across.” Harold went to the central table and picked up a small metal contraption, a bit like a series of ladders that could be pulled out and then slotted together. “This is a model of it.”
Noyes took the model. “It spans the distance between the walls?” He opened it out and weighed it in his hand.