. What will I say?’
‘That’ll depend, I imagine, on what they say first. If, by some freak chance, they say, “We surrender!” then I suggest you accept.’
‘I’ll go with you, Emily,’ Scavian said.
‘That you won’t,’ Tubal told him evenly.
‘But—’
‘I’m not having our one and only Warlock putting himself in the line of fire. For all we know, this entire exercise is aimed solely at killing you,’ Tubal continued, maddeningly logical. ‘You know how they feel about men of your profession. Choose anyone else, Em, but not Scavian. He stays here.’
‘But if things get ugly, I’m the only hope she has of getting clear,’ Scavian protested.
Tubal looked between them, a sad smile on his face. ‘I hope,’ he said, ‘I truly hope that nothing gets ugly, or even slightly ill-favoured. Em, you can refuse this duty. I’m not forcing it on you. I can send one of the sergeants or something. But you can’t take him. I won’t risk the both of you in one errand.’
Emily looked at her brother-in-law again, and she knew Scavian must be having the same thought: how Tubal’s captaincy had grown on him. He was the commander of the camp. He had to make the difficult decisions.
‘Then I’ll take Mallen,’ she decided. Tubal winced but nodded.
‘Mallen and . . . ? Take at least two men or you’ll look cheap.’
‘Mallen and Caxton, and ten of the Rabbit,’ she decided.
Tubal nodded and waved a hand. ‘You’d better go and collect them then.’
So it was that, a few minutes later, she was picking her way across the barricade, the trench and the stakes, with Mallen and the pale and sweating Sergeant Caxton at her heels. The ten soldiers behind them had been hand-picked by Caxton, who knew the individuals better than she did these days. All of them carried their muskets, and she had her sabre and pistol to hand. If this was some trap of the enemy’s, then the defenders would be ready to take their share with them as they died.
‘You reckon they’re really going to surrender?’ Caxton whispered, her eyes locked on the little group of drab-uniformed men ahead of them.
‘I have no idea, but something inside me says not . . .’ Emily halted, peering ahead and frowning.
‘Problem?’ Mallen murmured.
‘I . . .’ There were a dozen, no – thirteen of them. The parties matched each other, number for number. Her attention had been caught by the Denlander in their midst. His white hair blew in the light breeze; he leant on a stick and was without a musket. She recognized him just from his self-effacing pose.
‘God preserve us, it’s Doctor Lam,’ she said.
Mallen signalled a halt, fingering his musket thoughtfully. ‘Want us to take him from here? We’d be back behind the barricade before they try us. Got to be now, though, understand? Any closer and we’re dead for sure, in the return fire.’
She paused for a long, strained moment before saying, ‘No.’ Doctor Nathanial Lammegeier, who had spoken such treason to her, who had spoken of the sorrowful necessity of the fight and how his own people hated it; Doctor Lammegeier, who would surely have had her put to the question if Mallen had not rescued her.
‘Maybe . . .’ Her voice trembled a little. ‘Maybe they do want to surrender. I can’t think what else would bring him out here.’
‘God be praised,’ Caxton said, as they started moving forward again, Emily adding a new spring to her step that passed itself on to the others.
She narrowed the gap to twenty yards before she saw that the Denlanders had a prisoner, head bowed but red jacket all too visible. One of Mallen’s scouts? No, they went about in dark colours. Some straggler or deserter snagged by the enemy, then?
Do they want an exchange of prisoners? We have none to offer, and Doctor Lam would not concern himself personally with such a thing.
Perhaps it’s a goodwill gesture? Her heart sped. How better to convince an enemy you want peace than to return a captive?
Doctor Lam was watching her as they approached, and she saw him raise his eyebrows, a slight smile tugging at his mouth.
‘Sergeant Marshwic,’ he called out, as they drew to a halt with five yards still between them. ‘You are a remarkable woman. I confess myself baffled as to how you escaped my camp. Mind you,’ he added sadly ‘I never could understand women.’
‘It’s Lieutenant Marshwic now, Doctor Lammegeier.’ She allowed him the honour of using his full name, not