forced into a confused retreat. He lost thirty-nine of his one hundred horse to Desert archers and the river. Lord Davvi, to whom Chay had entrusted the ambush, returned from it with only slight losses and in good time to give support to the main defenses.
But by late afternoon Roelstra’s troops had gained a swath of shoreline to which they clung ferociously. Chay withdrew, willing to let them have their landhold for now, unwilling to spend any more lives trying to retake it. He left enough archers behind to discourage further advances, and repaired to his tent with his captains, his son, and Lord Davvi.
“Losses of eighteen horse, thirty-seven foot, and fourteen archers,” he summarized after they had given their reports. “Scouts estimate enemy casualties of about twice that, but they have twice our numbers to begin with. I’m not interested in a war of attrition.” He toyed with a jeweled eating knife that had been a present from Tobin, watching the candlelight play off its rubies and steel. “But we have an advantage now.”
Lord Davvi expressed the surprise of the others in a single word. “How?”
Chay smiled tightly. “I make their numbers at upward of seven hundred, and by tomorrow morning about half that should be on this side of the river. I want regular reports on the numbers of men and horses and supplies brought over during the night.”
“What we ought to do is fire those bridges, my lord.”
“No, Gryden,” he told Radzyn’s guard commander. “Not yet. When half their forces are here within our grasp, then we will burn their bridges behind them.” He drew a line on the parchment map with his knife, making a deep scar. “I want to show Roelstra something really spectacular.”
“Why not now, when there are fewer of them to rise against us?” Davvi asked.
“Because I’m going to crush the High Prince in two battles. Two are all we can afford. Once we’ve butchered half his army, we’ll cross the Faolain and do the same to the other half.”
“But if the bridges are burned—”
“I have my ideas on that as well. No, Gryden, you will not call a meeting of the engineers and start tearing down trees. Our bridges will be quite different from Roelstra’s. Questions?” He eyed each in turn, noting they were puzzled, exactly as he had intended. Zehava had taught him long ago to keep his battle plans secret as long as possible; it had nothing to do with trust, only prudence. “Very well. Dismissed.”
Maarken stayed, taking up his father’s battle gear for cleaning. Chay watched the boy seat himself on the carpet near a lamp encased in clear glass. The careful fingers began their work, rubbing at the dull film of dirt on steel.
“You should be in bed,” he said.
“A squire doesn’t sleep until his lord does—or unless,” Maarken responded.
Chay smiled. “Nice try. Now you can tell me what’s really bothering you.”
The boy glanced up, then back down at his work. “Father, you don’t need archers and arrows to fire the bridges. You have me.”
His mind spun. He had never paid much attention to the various levels of faradhi training, not until Sioned had begun tutoring his wife. Ten rings for a Lord or Lady of Goddess Keep, seven for Master Sunrunners—
“My kind of Fire won’t damage the bridges as much if I’m careful, because I can put it out with a thought.”
—five for a trained Sunrunner, three for an apprentice—
“I don’t even have to be that close, just so I can see where you want me to place the Fire.”
—and one for the ability to call Fire. Chay stared at his son’s ringless hands that still rubbed assiduously at an imagined stain on the sword.
“No one will be in danger, Father. Roelstra won’t be alerted by any movement of troops. I can do it.”
“When those bridges go, there’ll be people on them. People who will die.” He waited until Maarken glanced up, held the bright blue gaze with his own. “I won’t have you responsible for that.”
“Andrade has sided with the Desert against Roelstra,” Maarken reminded him.
“But not to kill.”
“You have,” was the flat reply. “Your weapon is this.” He lifted the sword. “Mine, for now, can be Fire.”
“No!” he shouted at his son, afraid. “If you don’t see the difference, then you’ll never use either while I’m around to stop you! I want you to grow up to be Radzyn’s lord someday, not an outlaw condemned for misuse of faradhi powers you shouldn’t have in the