83.

Mykel woke up on Quinti just before dawn, still worrying about Rachyla. He sat up on the hard and narrow bed. Why was he so concerned about her? It wasn't as though there happened to be any romantic attraction between them. He had to admit she was beautiful-not just pretty-and he admired her intelligence and poise, but she was hardly likely to be interested in a Cadmian officer, and he couldn't afford to get close to the daughter of a rebel leader, even a dead one. Besides, in her own way, she was as deadly as the dagger of the ancients he still carried.

Still... he did worry.

He forced himself out of bed and into washing up, then dressing. Even before he went to find the field rations that would be breakfast, he gathered Bhoral and the squad leaders outside the barracks under a slightly hazy sky.

Mykel looked at the five squad leaders. "We'll need to expect an attack here. Fifteenth Company is the only company at anywhere close to full strength, and we'll bear the brunt of any attack until the others recover. I'd like you to have your men stand down, except for two on watch on each wall. Have them keep their weapons nearby. Bhoral will work out the watch arrangements, while I meet with the overcaptain." He nodded to the senior squad leader.

Bhoral stepped forward, and Mykel slipped away.

Dohark was not in the study in headquarters, but at a table in the mess.

Before joining him, Mykel served himself from the ration cases set on the table and tapped his own ale from the keg. A Cadmian ranker guarded both food and drink.

As Mykel settled across the table from the overcaptain, Dohark looked up from the stale flat biscuits, hard yellow cheese, and dried apple slices before him. "Not much to choose from. Better than being poisoned."

Dohark took a bite of the biscuit. "Not much, though."

Mykel took a bite of the dry and crumbly biscuit, then a small sip of the ale. He didn't care much for either. Both officers ate quietly for a time."The men are getting better, those that survived," Dohark finally said.

"You think it had to do with the seltyr's daughter?"

"Whatever it was poisoned her as well," replied Mykel. "She couldn't even sit up last night. She was greener-looking than you were."

"What do you think they'll do next?"

"They'll have to attack. We won't be fortunate enough to see a siege."

"No. We've got enough supplies for months, and they'd have to know that. They also can't count on the Myrmidons staying away forever."

"No, but it could be a while," Mykel pointed out. "Is there anything that burns well?"

Dohark raised his eyebrows.

"Well... sir... if they have siege ladders or ramps, maybe we could throw oil on them. Or is that something that the Myrmidons frown on, too?"

"No. I've never heard anything about that, but there's nothing like that in the armory."

"What about in the kitchens? Some cooking oils burn well."

"I hadn't thought about that."

"If you don't mind, sir, I'll see what they have."

Dohark nodded. "Your men are still guarding the walls?"

"I have some on watch. The others are standing down until there's an attack."

"You're optimistic. Not if there's an attack, but when there is one."

"I hope I'm wrong, sir."

"You get very formal and very proper, Mykel, just before you predict something unpleasant, and then think up something even worse than the enemy has. If we get through this, I'd suggest you change that mannerism." Dohark offered an off-center smile."I'll... see to it, sir. By your leave, sir?"

"Go and do what you have to, Captain."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Mykel stood.

After leaving the mess, he returned to the barracks and gathered up Chyndylt and half of third squad, waiting until the squad leader and the nine rankers stood before him in the southeast wind that warmed the courtyard.

"We have a few tasks to attend to here in the compound. Just come with me." That was the only explanation he offered.

"Yes, sir." Chyndylt smiled faintly.

The first stop was the mess kitchen, which was cool because there had been no cooking. In the storeroom, Mykel found seven full casks of cooking oil, and one half cask. He tested some of the oil with a splinter of wood. It burned brightly. He turned to the head cook. "We'll be borrowing these for a time."

"Borrowing, sir?"

"If we're fortunate, borrowing. If we're not, then tell Ma-jerHerryf."

"Yes, sir." The cook's voice was less than enthusiastic.

"Chyndylt, have the men roll these out to the west gate- carefully. Just the full ones. Put one barrel at the top of each guard tower-inside-and leave the others beside the steps on each side. I don't want a drop spilled."

Chyndylt gestured. "Rykyt... you four... you heard the captain."

Once he saw that Rykyt and the four rankers with him had that task in hand, Mykel led Chyndylt and the remaining four rankers to the armory.

The senior squad leader who served as armorer was not there, his place taken by a local Cadmian squad leader Mykel did not know.

"I need to inspect the armory and draw ammunition."

"But... sir... you need a requisition.""I tell you what, squad leader. If... if we all survive the bluecoats' attacks later today, I'll be happy to provide that requisition. In the meantime, we'll need the ammunition."

The dark-haired squad leader looked from Mykel to Chyndylt and to the four rankers behind the captain. "Ah... I suppose... you will put a requisition in, sir?"

"If it's necessary, and when we have time, I'd be more than happy to.

Now... if you'd care to show us what we have?"

"Yes, sir." The armory squad leader kept looking back as he unlocked both doors.

"Jonasyr," Mykel ordered. "You guard the entrance here."

"Yes, sir."

The storage areas of the armory were down a long ramp, within solid stone walls set into the ground on which the compound was built. The ceiling consisted of solid stone beams, each a good third of a yard thick.

Mykel had no idea how thick the side walls were, but the combination of stone and earth behind it was strong enough to keep any inadvertent explosions confined.

"Here is the main section, sir."

In the dim illumination of but two light-torches, one on the east wall and one on the west, both set almost up to the filing, Mykel slowly inspected the armory. On the west 'all were four locked racks filled with rifles. Across from le rack, stacked out from the east wall, were cases of mmunition-almost floor to ceiling in a space three yards igh and ten yards long. Mykel walked to the north end joking for what else might be there. In the northwest corner were four kegs. All looked old, ut they were sealed, and "gunpowder" was stenciled across tie staves in white. Mykel hid a smile. "Chyndylt... we'll teed at least three cases on each wall of the compound. We von't have the time or the men to lug up ammunition if they ush the compound."

"Sir? That much?" asked the armory squad leader. "There are at least ten companies of bluecoats. How nany cases would you suggest?" The squad leader did not reply."Do you have dollies or something for carting the ;ases?"

"Just that flat truck there, sir."

"That will do. Why don't you station yourself at the top of the ramp there. You can count the cases as we bring them up." Mykel turned to Chyndylt. "We'll start at that end." He gestured toward the north end.

The armory squad leader looked at Mykel uneasily before retreating up the ramp, not quite to the top.

'The truck can handle four cases easily," Chyndylt suggested.

"I want those four kegs there, as well." Mykel kept his voice low and pointed. Stack them between the cases."

"Sir?"

"I need to make sure that the oil will ignite. They're old. Don't drop them, but they should help with the task." Chyndylt nodded.

Mykel could tell the senior squad leader didn't quite believe him, but he knew Chyndylt wasn't about to say any-thing. That was one of the reasons Mykel had picked third squad.

"If you'd handle this... I need to organize a few other items for our defense."

"Yes, sir."

Mykel walked back up the ramp. He stopped beside Jonasyr. "See anyone, or hear any alerts?"

"No, sir."

"Good. Thank you."

Mykel's next stop was the carpentry shop, set in the southwest corner of the compound, beyond the last of the stables.

"What might you be looking for, sir?" asked the gray-haired man in a leather apron even before Mykel had a chance to announce himself."An old barrel of some sort, one that will roll downhill on its side."

The carpenter frowned. "I'm not a cooper..."

Mykel waited.

"There might be one in the back, sir."

Mykel kept looking at the carpenter.

"One moment, sir." The carpenter moved slowly through the open door into the storeroom behind the workroom.

Mykel studied the supplies stacked in various places, and without much regard for order, from what he could tell. Some time passed before the carpenter returned.

"There is one, sir."

"Thank you. What about big nails, or spikes? Do you have any of those?"

The carpenter looked at Mykel. "Maybe half a keg here... Might I ask why, sir?"

"We don't have any caltrops here. Large nails or spikes would be better than nothing."

The crafter's dubious expression turned to puzzlement. ; "Caltrops are special four-pointed spikes that disable horses. We're very likely to have a thousand or more blue-coats charging the compound. I'm looking for something that can act like caltrops."

"They're just heavy nails, sir."

"They'll do. I'll be sending some men for the nails and the barrel. If we don't need them, I'll return them." Mykel smiled. "You do understand that the bluecoats slaughtered Seventeenth Company almost to the last man?"

"They did, sir?"

"The rebels did the same to Thirteenth Company. We do need those nails and spikes.""Yes, sir."

"Thank you." Mykel nodded and walked back across the courtyard.

He was passing the headquarters building when Dohark appeared.

"Mykel-I'd like a word with you." He motioned for Mykel to join him outside the south entrance to headquarters.

"Yes, sir?" Mykel inclined his head.

"There's dust on the roads to the north. Three vingts or so north."

"I've gotten the oil, and I have my men setting cases of ammunition on the walls."

Dohark looked steadily at Mykel for a moment. "There are enough able men left from Fourteenth and Sixteenth Companies to man one wall and part of another. The locals are down to half a company. What do you suggest?"

"The south wall for the others in Third Battalion, the east wall on each side of the gates for the locals. Fifteenth Company will handle the rest. I'll be keeping a squad back until we see where they attack. If there's enough for a reserve squad from the others, that would be good."

Dohark nodded. "There should be. I'll be at the west gate's north tower.

That offers the best vantage point."

"How is Rhystan doing?" Mykel asked.

"He's too weak to stand, but he seems to be getting better. Sixteenth Company took the worst of the poison."

"Good that the survivors will be all right."

Dohark raised his eyebrows.