“Then the Empress is a fool,” Dujek said, his tone hard. “The conscripts are next to useless, Adjunct, and by this time next year the Crimson Guard will have liberated Nisst, Treet, One Eye Cat, Porule, Garalt and-”
“I know the list.” Lorn rose abruptly. “You'll receive two more legions next year, High Fist. That's it.”
Dujek thought for a time, his gaze on the map pegged to the table top.
Lorn waited. She knew he was lost in reordering, re-evaluating his plans for next season's campaign, that he'd entered a world of materiel and divisions, in second-guessing Caladan Brood and the commander of the Crimson Guard, Prince K'azz. Finally he cleared his throat. “Adjunct, is it possible to reverse the landings? The Eleventh and the Wickan lancers disembarking on the east coast, south of Apple. The Ninth on the west coast, to Tulips.”
Lorn strode to the table and studied the map. Tulips? Why there? That made no sense at all. “The Empress would be curious as to your revised plans, High Fist.”
“Meaning "maybe".” Dujek rubbed the stubble on his jaw, then gave a sharp nod. “All right, Adjunct. First, the conscripts will not hold Fox Pass. The Crimson Guard will be into the northlands by the time our reinforcements arrive. Much of that area is farmland, pasture. As we retreat, pulling the conscripts back to Nisst, we raze the countryside. No crops, no livestock. Whatever supplies K'azz will need he'll have to bring with him. Now, Adjunct, any army on the move, any army pursuing a routed army, is bound to leave its supply train behind, string it out in its haste to catch its enemy and deliver the killing blow. And that's where the Wickan lancers come in.”
The Wickan were born raiders, Lorn knew. In such countryside they'd be elusive, striking quickly and with deadly consequences. “And the Eleventh? Where will they be in all this?”
“A third will be stationed in Nisst. The rest will be on the quick march-to Fox Pass.”
“While Caladan Brood remains south of Blackdog Forest? That doesn't make sense, High Fist.”
“You suggested using the Moranth for all it's worth, didn't you? Well, from Tulips the Moranth and their Quorl will be staging a massive lift.”
Dujek's gaze narrowed as he studied the map. “I want the Ninth south of Blackdog Swamp by the time I bring up my forces from here and place them south of Brood. A concerted push from the Gold and Black should push him right into our laps, while his allies, the Crimson Guard, are stuck on the wrong side of Fox Pass.”
“You intend to transport an entire legion by air?”
“Does the Empress want this war won in her lifetime or not?” He pushed himself away from the table and paced. “Mind you,” he said, as if struck by sudden doubts, “it may all be academic. If I were Brood I'd:”
His voice trailed away, and he faced the Adjunct. “Will the transport orders be reversed?”
Lorn searched his face. Something told her that the High Fist had just made an intuitive leap, and it had to do with Caladan Brood, and that as far as Dujek was concerned, it was indeed now academic. She also realized that this was something he wouldn't share with her. She scanned the map again, trying to see what Dujek had seen. But it was hopeless, she was no tactician. Trying to guess Dujek's thoughts was hard enough; but to try the same with Caladan Brood was impossible. “Your plan, although brash, is now officially accepted on behalf of the Empress. Your request will be fulfilled.”
Dujek nodded half-heartedly.
“One thing, High Fist, before Tayschrenn arrives. There was a Hound of Shadow here?”
“Yes,” the man said. “I wasn't here at the time, but I saw the mess the beast left behind. If not for Tattersail it would've been far worse.”
Lorn saw a glint of horror in Dujek's eyes and into her mind returned the scene from the coast road west of Itko Kan, two years ago. “I've seen the work of Hounds before,” she said, meeting his eyes.
In that moment of locked gazes they shared something profound. Then Dujek pulled his eyes away. “This Tattersail,” Lorn said, to hide a pang of regret, “Must be a very capable sorceress.”
“The only cadre mage to have survived Tayschrenn's assault on Moon's Spawn,” Dujek replied.
“Indeed?” To Lorn, that revelation was even more remarkable. She wondered if Dujek suspected anything, but his next words put her at ease.
“She called it luck, on both counts, and she might be right.”
“Has she been a cadre mage for a long time?” Lorn asked.
