Chapter Eleven
THE FORTRESS WAS still being built. Caro squinted against the midmorning sun, trying to see more between the last of the colorful leaves clinging to the branches of trees looking more wintery than autumn. The reds, oranges, and mostly brown leaves hung between him and their destination, obscuring the fortress, while also hopefully helping keep them hidden. He thought they had been following a small path yesterday, but when Ama took them upward this morning, climbing into the burgeoning dawn overhead, Caro learned otherwise. The goat track Ama had discovered meandered between sturdy stones that allowed their party to climb to the top of the ridge, after which they had to practically crawl, clinging to the rocky surface and the bark of convenient trees and bushes. They couldn’t have made this climb in full winter, not without the admittedly limited leaves to conceal them from any watchers below. From what Caro had heard about Toval’s snow and ice, it would also probably be very slippery in a few short weeks. Thankfully, this far to the south was still autumn, if only barely.
The fortress below them was set in another clearing, this one larger than where they had left the horses and whatever supplies they couldn’t carry. The curtain wall was built, large cut stones set between natural rocky protrusions. Two gates sat at either side, where the trees had been cut for the two cart paths Caro remembered from the map. The middle portions of the fortress weren’t finished. What appeared to be a large barracks building at least three stories high only had the first two floors built and the third under construction. Next to that was what appeared to be a very long stable, looking like it was going to eventually be two floors. If Caro had to guess, the second floor was likely for storage or where the servants would sleep. A third, smaller building, might be an office or mess hall, or possibly officers’ quarters, but it was only foundation and no walls, so Caro couldn’t make a more educated guess just yet. Right in the middle was a nine-foot by nine-foot, flat flagstone area. An uneducated observer might think it was a courtyard, stoned to keep it from turning to mud under booted feet, but Caro knew better. The space was a small arena for soldiers to fight without a proper coliseum. Disputes would end in death or severe injury in that square, all for the entertainment of others.
Caro looked away, not willing to dwell on negativity before a fight, instead trying to find some method of getting them inside. They couldn’t very well open the doors when Fen arrived if they were still camped above and outside the walls.
“Sloppy. Lazy,” Braxton grumbled under his breath, his voice soft so it wouldn’t echo. “I see why Ama brought us up here.” He looked around at the rest of the group who were all taking the same opportunity as Caro to rest after the morning’s climb. “They built the wall into the mountain, and didn’t add any height. From up here, we can easily climb down right into the bailey.”
“I can’t get an accurate count of their numbers,” Grall grumbled.
People were visible below, many of them busy at work on the construction and some standing around, but Caro also couldn’t tell who might be a fighter and who a civilian. Surely Namin wouldn’t leave their attempt at strategic advantage unguarded, even if still under construction, but there was nowhere for an army to hide. At least, nowhere he could see from this angle.
“Right. No sense in stalling,” Grall continued. “Let’s go get those gates open before Prince Fen arrives. Show that bastard our scouts are just as capable as his Royal Forces,” he snorted and waved briefly.
Those who had dropped down to rest stood again and walked forward, trying to remain hidden behind the leafy cover for as long as possible. The curtain wall was built of thick stones, except where it met the natural rock of the cliffs. Crouching low, scampering across the last few feet, they reached a small outcropping of cliff where there wasn’t any wall to block them.
A glance downward showed cleared ground below, and they were a distance from the closest construction workers.
“Ropes,” Grall hissed out, signaling with his hands.
Two men dropped bags on the ground and pulled out the thick ropes inside. They swung the end of the ropes around their waists, three full turns. Two more men stepped up. They stood in front of the trussed men, gripping the ropes tightly, but not wrapping any of it around them. The final two guards who stepped forward were smaller, but no less muscular.
Caro glanced around and saw he had missed the archers preparing their crossbows, extra arrows waiting on the ground within easy reach. The rest of the company were still crouched low, but near where they were preparing the ropes. The plan was easy enough for Caro to guess: get everyone down the ropes to the ground below as quickly as possible, with the archers providing cover from the heights. Once they were down there, the soldiers would take over and claim the fledgling building for Toval. Grall and Braxton really did want to throw the gates open to welcome Fen’s arrival.
Grall waved his hands again, signing something in what Caro assumed was Toval’s military shorthand. One of the people holding the rope coiled the excess at his feet, leaving only a few feet for the smaller guard, who tossed the length over the edge of the cliff. She glanced at the man with the rope around his waist, who nodded, looked at the man holding the rope, who also nodded, and she finished by obtaining Grall’s nod. Permission granted, she turned her back to the cliff, gripped the rope tightly in both hands, and stepped out and over the edge, planting her feet so her body was crouched perpendicular to the cliff wall. She took one step down, her body starting to vanish from view, and then abruptly scrambled back up and over the top, landing on her knees and gesturing frantically.
Grall let out a snarl even as he waved one hand in the direction of the trees. Caro didn’t need Braxton appearing at his side to understand they were retreating, although he appreciated Braxton’s hand on his elbow as they reached the tree cover, and Caro promptly tripped over a rock concealed by leaf litter.
They went all the way back to the small clearing where they had been able to scout the fortress before Grall called a halt.
“Report!” Grall said, his tone soft enough not to echo but still firm.
The woman who had called for the retreat stepped forward, standing tall with her hands clasped behind her back. “They’ve dug out underneath the cliff, sir! A large cave, and I saw groups of soldiers resting there. I’d estimate two full flights, although I couldn’t see how deep the cave went. I was more concerned with getting out of there before they spotted me.”
One flight was comprised of twenty-five to fifty soldiers, depending on their specialty, which meant there were anywhere from fifty to a hundred soldiers hidden from view inside that cave, waiting for the chance to ambush anyone who might attack what appeared to be a defenseless facility. Clever. Far too clever for what Caro knew of his brother Cadell, who was supposed to be in charge of things like this.
Even fifty soldiers were too many for their band to handle. There were only twenty of them, including Caro and Alina. Caro knew how to hold a sword and fire a bow, but just barely, and he didn’t know Toval’s tactics or strategies well enough to fight alongside this group. His job, as Queen Trina had explained, was to watch Braxton’s back. Her initial reasoning was probably more for during Braxton’s more covert missions, rather than something like this, but with Caro’s power he could do more to keep Braxton alive than most. Which was something Caro was definitely on board with and why he was here.
“Caro, you’re frowning like this is something concerning,” Braxton said when the soldier paused in her report.
Caro nodded, then shrugged. “Cadell doesn’t understand subtlety, but he’s in charge of all military operations for Namin. He wouldn’t conceal soldiers in a cave where they had a strategic advantage; he wouldn’t even think of something like this. If he had planned this, the soldiers would be camped in view because he believes the show of force would keep them from being attacked.”
Plus, someone who thought to hide their fighters like this wouldn’t have also left lazy sentries napping in the ravine path or a convenient overlook like this unguarded! Caro spun around, trying to see if he could spot watchers hidden in the trees. A golden glow suffused everything as he called on his magic to search.
“Don’t bother, Prince Clament.” The voice that rang out was familiar, but not so much that Caro could immediately place it. A second later, General Thris stepped into the clearing.
Thris was one of the top members of Namin’s military, fourth or fifth after the king, although given Caro had heard some people had mysteriously fallen to their deaths from various parapets, Thris might be higher now. He wasn’t alone. About thirty soldiers melted out of the forest, completely surrounding them. And yet, Caro’s magic didn’t sense imminent danger.
“I believe this one is yours,” Thris called, waving one hand. Ama appeared through the trees a second later, walking toward them with his hands on top of his head and a wry scowl on his lips. The guard escorting him stopped at the perimeter circle, allowing Ama to continue to their group. “We’ve been watching him crawl all over this mountain for the last month. It’s nice to know he belongs to you. Now then.” His gaze slid from Caro as he switched his focus to Braxton. “I think it’s time we have a little chat.”