So what's the plan?"
"I believe that our best plan is to flush them out. If we can capture them both, there will be little reason for the others to fight."
"But if they're in the midst of the army--" Bran started.
"Bait," I said, seeing the plan at once. "There has to be bait to bring them to the front." Thinking rapidly, I added, "And I know who's to be the bait. Us, right? Only, how to get them to meet us?"
"The letter," Branaric said. "They know now that we have it."
Both looked at me, but I said nothing.
"Even if we don't have it," the Marquis said easily, "it's enough to say we do to get them to meet us. If they break the truce or try anything untoward, a chosen group will grab them, and my warriors will disperse in all directions and reassemble at a certain place on my border a week later, at which time we will reassess. I can give you all the details of the plan if you wish them."
Bran snorted a laugh. "I'm in. As if we had a choice!"
" we have a choice?" I asked, instantly hostile.
"I am endeavoring to give you the semblance of one," Shevraeth replied in his most polite voice.
"And if we don't agree?" I demanded.
"Then you will remain here in safety until events are resolved."
"So we prisoners, then."
Bran was chuckling and wiping his eyes. "Life, sister, how you remind me of that old spaniel of Khesot's, Skater, when he thought someone was going to pinch his favorite chew-stick. Remember him?"
"Bran--" I began, now thoroughly exasperated.
"Well, it isn't the goals, Mel, for we've the same ones, in essentials. It's you being stubborn, just like old Skater. Admit it!"
"I admit only that I don't trust as far as I can throw a horse," I fumed. "We're still prisoners, and you just sit there and laugh! Well, go ahead. I think I'll go back to sleep. The company is better." And I stalked to the door, went out, and slammed it.
Of course I could still hear Bran wheezing with laughter. The ancient doors were not of tapestry but of wood, extremely flimsy and ill-fitted wood, serving no real purpose beyond blocking the room from sight. Tapestry manners required I move away at once, but I hesitated until I heard Bran say, "She won't rat out on us. Let me talk to her, and she'll see reason."
"I'd give her some time before you attempt it," came the wry answer."
"I believe that our best plan is to flush them out. If we can capture them both, there will be little reason for the others to fight."
"But if they're in the midst of the army--" Bran started.
"Bait," I said, seeing the plan at once. "There has to be bait to bring them to the front." Thinking rapidly, I added, "And I know who's to be the bait. Us, right? Only, how to get them to meet us?"
"The letter," Branaric said. "They know now that we have it."
Both looked at me, but I said nothing.
"Even if we don't have it," the Marquis said easily, "it's enough to say we do to get them to meet us. If they break the truce or try anything untoward, a chosen group will grab them, and my warriors will disperse in all directions and reassemble at a certain place on my border a week later, at which time we will reassess. I can give you all the details of the plan if you wish them."
Bran snorted a laugh. "I'm in. As if we had a choice!"
" we have a choice?" I asked, instantly hostile.
"I am endeavoring to give you the semblance of one," Shevraeth replied in his most polite voice.
"And if we don't agree?" I demanded.
"Then you will remain here in safety until events are resolved."
"So we prisoners, then."
Bran was chuckling and wiping his eyes. "Life, sister, how you remind me of that old spaniel of Khesot's, Skater, when he thought someone was going to pinch his favorite chew-stick. Remember him?"
"Bran--" I began, now thoroughly exasperated.
"Well, it isn't the goals, Mel, for we've the same ones, in essentials. It's you being stubborn, just like old Skater. Admit it!"
"I admit only that I don't trust as far as I can throw a horse," I fumed. "We're still prisoners, and you just sit there and laugh! Well, go ahead. I think I'll go back to sleep. The company is better." And I stalked to the door, went out, and slammed it.
Of course I could still hear Bran wheezing with laughter. The ancient doors were not of tapestry but of wood, extremely flimsy and ill-fitted wood, serving no real purpose beyond blocking the room from sight. Tapestry manners required I move away at once, but I hesitated until I heard Bran say, "She won't rat out on us. Let me talk to her, and she'll see reason."
"I'd give her some time before you attempt it," came the wry answer."
( Sherwood Smith )
[ Crown Duel ]
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