Crimson Shadow, The - R. A. Salvatore Page 0,186

not openly question his rationale. “What do you expect of him?” she asked.

Until that very moment, Luthien had no idea of what his adversary might be up to. It came to him suddenly, crystal clear. “He’s going across the river,” the young Bedwyr asserted, and by the end of this sentence, he was finding breath hard to come by.

Siobhan shook her head, doubting.

“He will go over the river and catch the folk of Port Charley out in the open,” Luthien pressed, growing more anxious.

“His goal is the city,” Siobhan insisted.

“No!” Luthien replied sharply, more forcefully than he had intended. “He will catch them in the open field, and when they are destroyed, he can come back at us.”

“If he has enough of a force left to come back at us,” Siobhan argued. “And by that time, we will have many more defenses in place.” She shook her head again, doubting the reasoning, but could see by Luthien’s stern visage that he was not convinced.

“Time works against our enemy,” Siobhan reasoned. “By all accounts, they are practically without food, and they are far from home, weary and wounded.”

Luthien wanted to remind her again that these were not ordinary cyclopians, were Praetorian Guard, but she kept going with her reasoning.

“And if you are right,” she said, “then what are we to do? Oliver and the others are not fools. They will see the brutes coming, and then the way will be clear for them to get into Caer MacDonald.”

“Our enemy will not leave an open path,” Luthien said grimly.

“You have to trust in our allies,” Siobhan said. “Our responsibilities are in defending Caer MacDonald.” She paused and took note of Luthien’s hard breathing. Clearly, the man was upset, confused, and worried.

“There is nothing for us to do,” Siobhan said, and she bent low and kissed Luthien, then sat back up, making no move to cover her nakedness. “Trust in them,” she said. Her hand moved along Luthien’s cheek and down his neck, and his muscles relaxed under her gentle touch.

“But there is something,” he said suddenly, sitting up and looking directly into Siobhan’s eyes. “We can go out before dawn, along those trails in the north. If we circle . . .”

Luthien stopped, seeing the look of sheer incredulity on the half-elf’s face.

“Go out from the city?” she asked, dumbfounded.

“Our enemy will catch them in the open,” Luthien pleaded. “And then, if he decides that he hasn’t enough of a force remaining to capture the city, he’ll turn about and march for Port Charley, now wide open to him. The cyclopians will slaughter that town and dig in, and with the season moving toward spring, Greensparrow will have an open port in Eriador and will send a second, larger force across the mountains.”

“How many are you thinking to send out?” the half-elf asked, concerned by Luthien’s reasoning.

“Most,” Luthien replied without hesitation.

Siobhan’s expression turned grim. “If you send most out, and our enemy comes back against Caer MacDonald, he will be entrenched within the city before we can strike back at him. We will be defeated and without shelter, scattering across Eriador’s fields.”

Luthien expected that criticism, of course, and there was indeed much truth in what Siobhan was arguing. But he didn’t think that his adversary would come back at the city right away. Luthien’s gut told him that the cyclopians would cross the river.

“Is this because of her?” Siobhan asked suddenly, unexpectedly.

Luthien’s jaw dropped open. The reference to Katerin in such a way pained him, even more because for just a moment, he wondered if it might be true.

Siobhan saw his wounded reaction. “I am sorry,” she said sincerely. “That was a terrible thing to say.” She leaned close and kissed Luthien again.

“I know that your heart is for Caer MacDonald,” Siobhan whispered. “I know that your decisions are based on what is best for all. I never doubt that.” She kissed him again, and again, deeply, and he put his arms about her and hugged her close, feeling her warmth, needing her warmth.

But then, in this night of revelations, Luthien pushed Siobhan out to arm’s length, and his puzzled expression caught her off guard.

“This is not about me, is it?” he asked, accusingly.

Siobhan didn’t seem to understand.

“All of this,” Luthien said candidly. “The love we make. It is not me, Luthien Bedwyr, that you love. It is the Crimson Shadow, the leader of the rebellion.”

“They are one and the same,” Siobhan replied.

“No,” Luthien said, shaking his head slowly. “No. Because the