Falduin sighed.

“This is an awful plan,” he murmured.

“It’s the only one we have,” Ifonsa hissed, “So concentrate, and ensure the witch doesn’t find us.”

It was close to midnight.  The moon had already set.  For hours they had watched the small town, the nearby keep, and their surroundings.  The area was crawling with the witch’s men, far more than had chased them all the way from the ambush site.  Perhaps as many as a hundred.  

Most were located outside the town’s walls, hiding in ditches or waiting in barns or other farm buildings, all the way around the town.  Some skulked in the huge dock area, where the two rivers merged to form a small lake, and others lurked down amongst the cascades to the west of Harnsey.

That’s what Falduin had been told.  He had remained with the others, secreted in the copse overlooking the area, while Ifonsa and Ganthe had scouted about.

“Have you ever seen so many on stag?” Ifonsa asked after her report.

“Yes,” Heric said. “Just before Vereiberg .”

“That was against the Empire,” she said, then pointed towards the town.  “Who are they?”

“I don’t know,”  he said, thoughtfully.  “What about the keep?”

“They act like there isn’t a ruddy horde of bandits on their doorstep. Lord Alcaf’s standard still flies from the mast, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Heric nodded, “Thank you,” he said. “Rest. Get some cotai  if you can.”

Afterwards, Heric had taken each of them aside and spoken with them in private, laying out their individual roles in the plan.  For the most part, Falduin would be accompanying Ifonsa.  His main role was to keep them hidden from the witch.  He wasn’t entirely certain how he was supposed to do that, especially while sneaking about.  He’d expressed his concerns before that had split up, but Lera had smiled at him and told him that she knew he’d find a way.   So far she had been proven right.

It wasn’t until he and Ifonsa had crept almost all the way through the recently sowed fields, that he sensed the witch’s presence.  It was like a nagging sense that someone was watching him.  Yet so far he had been able to dissuade the witch’s attention with some simple tricks. 

As for the others, he didn’t know exactly where they were, but he could feel the ward he had placed upon each of them.  

“Imagine if each of you had a bell of a different size,” he explained to Ifonsa before they set off, “I can tell if the bell is still ringing but not from where because of the echo.”

“Won’t the witch hear the bell?” Ifonsa had asked.

“No, because there is no bell and no echo.  It’s all in my head,” he said. “But I can tell if the witch’s scrutiny focuses upon one of you.  And I can use my magic to distract her away to somewhere else.”

Ifonsa didn’t like the idea much.  “If you could do this before, why did we need to hide in the ruddy  cave?” she asked. 

“We weren’t surrounded by townsfolk.  Imagine hundreds of bells ringing all at the same time.  Trying to locate one of a certain pitch is almost impossible.  Even asleep the minds of the townsfolk ring out.”

“You said the witch can’t hear the bells.”

He had tried explaining it further but without success. Unlike Lera, Ifonsa wasn’t able to grasp such a simple concept.  Eventually it was time, and the two of them snuck down towards the ditch surrounding the bailey.  

Falduin was amazed at how quiet Ifonsa moved, and how she could just blend into her surrounds.  He would turn around and she was gone, only to appear a moment later in the exact same spot.  Yet despite all her skill, on several occasions Falduin was convinced they had been spotted.

Once a bandit wandered so close by their hiding place, that Falduin only needed to reach out to touch him.  But Ifonsa’s talent was as good as she boasted.  There was no cry of alarm. No sudden call-to-arms.  No pointing.  Nobody had noticed they were there at all.

However, once they reached the ditch a major problem presented: Falduin took one sniff and refused to wade through the water.  It reeked of sewerage.  

Ifonsa took only a moment to convince him to pass across quickly and quietly.  He winced and absently touched his groin as he remembered her threat.  He could still feel the afterthought of her knife.

They trudged through the moat, up to their waist at times.  It was difficult.  His footing slippery, made worse because he kept his hands above his head, well away from the water.  He didn’t want the blanket getting ruined as well.  

They climbed up the other bank and waited hidden at the base of the palisade. Falduin was cold, wet and he stank.  His beautiful robe, completely ruined.  And he didn’t have any replacements.  They too had been lost at the barge.

He could use his magic to clean the robe, but he’d always know.  He wrinkled his nose at the thought, but mostly at the smell.

The sound of a guard patrolling on the other side of the wall, brought him back to his senses. The slow, rhythmic walk reminded him of The Keepers.

He found that he was surprisingly calm.  He was frightened, but there was no sense of panic.  Soldiers he could handle, if he needed to.  If nothing else he could run away, and use his magic to hide.  What really terrified him was the prospect of the witch focusing in on him.

He was supposed to confront her directly if that happened.  That was his secondary role.  He was to keep her occupied and away from threatening the others. Falduin didn’t know how he was going to do that either.

“Why couldn’t I have been teamed with Lera?” he wondered out loud.

“Because Lera jingles like a purse every time she moves.  She also can’t climb walls,” Ifonsa said.

“Neither can I.”

“You just need the right motivation,” Ifonsa said, and despite the darkness he could see her malevolent smile.  He could also see her hand lingering near her knife. 

 

Ifonsa leapt.

She grabbed the top of the palisade and pulled herself up.  The inside of the bailey was mostly unlit, just a few lanterns near the drawbridge, flying bridge and one at the well.   Nearby she could see the cowshed and off to her right a large building, perhaps a barracks.  They’d want to avoid that. 

She scanned about seeking for the sentries.  The nearest guard was more than a hundred paces away.  She could just make him out in the gloom.

“Give me the blanket,” she hissed.

Falduin complied without even commenting or complaining once.  Perhaps she had tamed him with her threats.  She feared he would become even more of an impediment once it turned sharp.  If she needed to, she would settle the issue once and for all.

She placed the folded blanket over the top of the palisade, than levered herself up to straddle the stake wall, using the blanket to protect herself from the sharp points.

“Give me you hand,” she said offering her own.

“I can’t do this,” Falduin complained.

Clearly he hadn’t been tamed enough.

“You can, and you will.”

“I’m soaking, and covered in-“

“Falduin.  Do I need to introduce you to Captain Knife again?”

He glared at her, then reluctantly offered her his hand.

Within moments they were both up and over the wall.

 

“I don’t see why I have to carry the blanket,” Falduin complained.

At least he had waited until they were safely hidden, Ifonsa thought.   

They had circled around the inside of the bailey, slowly making their way towards the Hall.  Ifonsa was surprised by the lack and expertise of the guards.  She had counted a grand total of two patrolling, each walking a circuit near the palisade on opposite sides of the compound   They didn’t even bother to check shadowy areas near the wall, let alone the darkness amongst the buildings.  The goblins would have carved them up, had this occurred during The Wars.  The Imperial troops too. Standards had certainly sunk, and hard-earnt lessons quickly forgotten.   

She decided to investigate the barracks despite her earlier apprehension.  She wanted to have an idea how many guards there were.  From the snoring she guessed it was mostly full.  It would be better if they didn’t wake up until after they were long gone.  

She didn’t even consider asking Falduin if he might have a way to keep them asleep until they were well past - almost at the workshop.  Was that even possible? She’d never worked with a mage before. Not really.  They tended to keep themselves, safely ensconced in their towers, and let others die for the cause.

Behind the workshop they hid behind some barrels.  They smelt of lanolin.  Nearby one of the guards to passed by.  

It gave Ifonsa a chance to have a good, long look at the motte, perched up on the mound.  She could see a pair of guards patrolling atop the keep, their silhouettes visible against the starry sky.  There were two more near the flying bridge, she realised.

Once the guard was far enough away they moved on, stealing past the stables  and some other buildings.  Ifonsa could only guess as to their purposes.  They were small and dark.  Perhaps cottages for the lord’s captains or more workshops or even storehouses. 

 The entire time Falduin followed along, almost like a puppy followed its master, keeping close and mostly silent. He squelched with every step, but at least he wasn’t complaining the entire time.

The Hall was easily the biggest building in the bailey.  It stretched up two-stories high with two rows of shuttered windows.  It served as the playhouse for the local lord, where he entertained and dined.  She hoped he hadn’t recruited recently.  Halls were often used as a supplementary barracks.

During the war she preferred to sleep outside, even when raining.  Her sister did too, mostly. However once near the end of the War of Liberation, the entire company were invited to reside within the hall of some lord.  She couldn’t recall his name.  Bertio, she thought.  He’d died soon after. It was pouring with rain and was freezing cold, and Adanna wanted to go, but was reluctant to leave her twin.

“Go.  Have fun,” Ifonsa told her.

“Certain?” Adanna asked.

Ifonsa nodded.

“I suppose as your elder sister,” Adanna said, “I need to make sure it’s safe for you youngin’s.”

“Go!”

“Come?”

Ifonsa shook her head.

It was well past midday when Ifonsa saw her twin again.  She staggered in and flopped onto her bedroll reeking of booze.  She’d had a grand old time getting drunk.

“And other things,” Adanna told her when she sobered up.  She refused to reveal what other things entailed, but Ifonsa could guess.  It made Ifonsa grin just thinking about it.

They found a narrow recess along the rear wall of the Hall.  It was well hidden, and the Hall was far enough away from the wall that the guards were unlikely to hear them. 

There they rested.  Even Ifonsa found creeping about tiring.   However, that’s where the complaints began again.  That was even more tiring.

“You insisted on saving it,” she told him.

“It cost me every penny I had,” he admitted.

“Really?”  That surprised her.  “I thought wizards were better paid.”

“I’m an apprentice,” he said. “ I’m lucky to have had that much.”

“I thought you had to be born rich to become an apprentice.”

“Not always.  Sometimes they conscript you when the talent manifests itself early enough.”

“Is that what happened to you?”

“Where are we headed?  You said the Hall, but we’re here now.”

“That way,” she said pointing behind him toward the are with a massive chimney.

“What’s there?”

“The kitchens.”