the abbreviation so vilified amongst her fellows. ‘You have asked for a truce. You have it. What news do you have for us?’ She glanced at Caxton, beside her, and said, ‘Have you come to offer your surrender?’
Doctor Lam’s eyes wrinkled with remorse, and he too spared a glance for his fellows. Following his eyes she saw the man behind him, the man holding the prisoner, was the same provost as had captured her.
‘No,’ the Doctor said simply, ‘but I have come to ask for yours.’
Emily sensed a tension amongst her fellows, and the guns on both sides that had been pointing not-quite-anywhere were suddenly closer to being in line, each with its opposite number. She held out her hands to calm her companions, and felt them unwillingly lower their weapons.
‘We do not surrender, in Lascanne,’ she said flatly. ‘You have not taken us yet. What do you have to persuade us now?’
Doctor Lam looked over his shoulder and motioned for the prisoner to be brought forward. ‘She will tell you,’ he said, and the red-jacketed figure was pushed forward past him, the provost tilting her head up to show her bruised face.
Ice coursed through Emily’s veins. It was Penny Belchere.
28
Seeing her there in that moment, in spite of all it meant, I thought of you.
‘Penny!’ Emily took an instinctive step forward and guns were levelled again on both sides.
‘Keep order!’ Doctor Lam instructed his men. ‘Remember why we are here.’ There was no triumph on his face as he turned back to Emily. She saw none of the satisfaction of the conjuror revealing his final trick, only an urgency about his eyes that surprised her.
‘Soldier Belchere,’ Emily said, with more control of herself. ‘Have you been mistreated?’
Penny’s responding gaze was full of mute appeal. ‘Not yet,’ she got out. Get me out of here, was the unspoken plea. She was chalk-white with fear, and Emily belatedly remembered that she was only a messenger, and had never been in battle or fired a gun.
‘What is this, Doctor?’ she asked.
Doctor Lam looked at his feet, biting his lip as he came to a decision. ‘Would you walk with me, Lieutenant? You and my captive, and the provost here. Let your men and mine retire to some distance where they are less danger both to us and to each other, and I will speak candidly to you.’
‘Candidly?’ she queried cautiously.
‘Words best spoken to you alone, as de facto leader here, rather than openly where they might trigger excesses of, shall we say, national pride.’
‘Don’t do it, sir,’ Caxton whispered. ‘It has to be a trap.’
She looked at Doctor Lam, then at the provost. ‘Just you and me and the prisoner, Doctor. She’s a non-combatant, and bound.’
She saw the provost shake his head and knew it was in fear for his commander, and that reassured her. Doctor Lam nodded reluctantly, though.
‘I will trust you, Lieutenant Marshwic. Someone must make the first move.’
Under their combined direction, the two groups of soldiers backed away from each other, until each was too far to readily taunt the other, although the trio in the middle remained within easy shot of either.
Emily folded her arms, surreptitiously checking on the position of her pistol. ‘Doctor Lammegeier, you have my attention.’
He smiled almost nostalgically. ‘You really must tell me how you escaped my camp, Lieutenant Marshwic. I’ve been losing sleep over it.’
She sensed he was speaking only to put off the inevitable. ‘You didn’t come here just to play Twenty Questions. I thought the only thing you were asking was for our surrender.’
He sighed. ‘Ah, well, so much for idle curiosity. Your surrender, yes, Lieutenant. The surrender of all Lascanne forces in the Levant. Does that sound absurd to you?’
‘Not at all,’ she told him. ‘If I’d been beaten back three times, as you have, I’d try a new tack myself. But it isn’t going to happen. We can’t surrender to you, and you know why. We’re the last line of defence for Lascanne. You need to move past us to reinforce your armies in the Couchant. We can’t surrender.’
She saw him take a deep breath and ready himself. ‘A valid conclusion, no doubt, if your premise was correct.’
‘Don’t riddle with me, Doctor.’
‘I have imagined this conversation a score of times before coming out here, yet now the words escape me. Lieutenant, when did you last hear from Locke?’
The words sent an uneasy chill through her. ‘Twelve days ago, or so.’
‘I have heard more recently than that.’ He braced himself.