Crimson Shadow, The - R. A. Salvatore Page 0,168

across the lightening fields and hedgerows. He noted the lighter shade of gray, the last remnants of snow, clinging to the dark patches, losing the battle with spring.

“Felling Downs,” the half-elf replied. “We had fifty soldiers in there all the yesterday, and burned the lights long into the night.” Siobhan chuckled. “We expected to be attacked by the cyclopians’ advance scouts, but they stayed out.”

Luthien glanced at her sidelong. He had wondered where she had been the previous night, and now he thought himself foolish for not realizing that Siobhan would personally lead the group out to the small village north of Caer MacDonald as bait. Wherever the fighting might be, Siobhan would find her way to the front. Even Shuglin and the other dwarfs, so tortured under Greensparrow’s rule, were not as fanatical. Everything in Siobhan’s life revolved around the rebellion and killing cyclopians.

Everything.

“How many have gone?” Luthien asked.

“Three hundred,” came the quick reply.

Again Luthien looked at the half-elf. Three hundred? Only three hundred? The cyclopian force numbered fifty times that, but they were supposed to go out and deal the brutes a stinging blow with only three hundred warriors? His expression, eyebrows arching high over his eyes, clearly asked all of those questions.

“We cannot safely cover more in the ground to the north,” Siobhan explained, and from her tone it was obvious that she wished they could send out the whole of their force. She, perhaps even more than Luthien, wanted to hit hard at the cyclopian army. “We cannot risk many lives on the open field.”

Luthien nodded. He knew the truth of what Siobhan was saying; in fact, he had initially argued against going out from Caer MacDonald at all. But the ambush plan was a good one. For the cyclopians to take the easiest and most logical route into Caer MacDonald, they would have to cross a small river west of Felling Downs, then turn south, through the town and straight to the foothills and the walled city. There was only one real bridge across that river anywhere in the vicinity, northwest of Felling Downs, but Luthien and his cohorts could cross the water in the rougher ground just to the west of Caer MacDonald. They would then strike out to the north and take up a secretive position in the hedgerows and other cover just south of the bridge—a bridge which Shuglin’s folk had already rigged for collapse. When the bulk of the enemy army got across, heading out for Felling Downs, that bridge would be taken down and those cyclopians caught on the western side would face the wrath of Luthien’s marauders.

“Know this as an important day,” the young Bedwyr remarked. “The first true test of Avon’s army.”

“And of our own,” Siobhan added.

Luthien started to argue, was going to remark that the taking of Montfort had been their first test, but he stopped, admitting the truth of Siobhan’s words. This would be the first time the rebels battled with a large contingent of Praetorian Guards, a trained and prepared army.

“The group is away?” Luthien asked.

Siobhan nodded, and unconsciously looked to the west.

“And you will soon set out to join with them?” Luthien asked. The question was rhetorical, for of course Siobhan would rush to catch up with those who would soon see battle. “Then we must hurry,” the young Bedwyr quickly added.

The fact that he had suddenly included himself in the ambush was not lost on Siobhan. She stared long and hard at Luthien, and he could not determine if her look was approving or not.

“You are too valua—” came the beginning of her response.

“We are all too valuable,” the young Bedwyr said, determined that he would not be turned away this time. Lately, every time Luthien included himself in plans that would likely lead to fierce combat, someone, usually Siobhan, would pipe in that he was too valuable to risk himself so.

Siobhan knew better than to argue. She could convince Luthien of many things, could guide him through many decisions, but she had learned during the taking of Montfort that no amount of coercion would keep the brave young man out of harm’s way.

“This is the test of Avon’s army,” Luthien explained. “And I must see how they respond.”

Siobhan thought of several arguments against that course, primarily that the defense of Caer MacDonald, and the morale of the rebels, would be weakened indeed if Luthien Bedwyr, the Crimson Shadow, was killed before the cyclopians even reached the city walls. She kept her doubts