They escaped the outpost undetected. Aeolwyn worried that the argument in the office might have alerted either the commander of the outpost or a guard. They did sneak by a guard who was meant to be alert but had fallen asleep on duty. Aeolwyn made a note of that. The poor guard had probably been drilling all day and then had night duty all night. That was a poor way to keep men in fighting shape, especially this close to the border.
That made him think about the defense of the rest of the outpost. It was well guarded, but for the single glaring error. An undefended escape hatch. Aeolwyn and his group could have killed everyone in the outpost had they wanted to. He would remember not to make that mistake.
They took the same circuitous route back as they had taken out. Just before they reached Foregate, Egne broke out a whiskey bottle he had recovered from somewhere, took a few swigs, then poured a little on himself. He encouraged the rest of them to do the same.
“Why?” Aeolwyn asked.
“We snuck out in the middle of the night,” Galafar said while tipping back the bottle. “If we come back reeking of alcohol, then no one will suspect we were on a secret mission.”
His friends were so clever it sometimes scared him. He doused himself in alcohol, stomach lurching from the smell. Then they all squeezed together, arm in arm, and stumbled their way back into the fort.
The first person they ran into was Commander Boede, who had been briefed on the mission. He looked at the group with an expression of disgust and unusual curiosity. He stormed over, got close and sniffed each of them.
“Out past curfew, eh?” he said loudly. “You all are to immediately report to the general for disciplinary action!”
Just before he stormed away, he gave Aeolwyn a quick wink. The three of them groaned and made their way to the general’s office. They gave up acting drunk as soon as they entered. He was inside, at his desk, having his breakfast and reviewing some documents. The room smelled strongly of coffee and eggs.
“Good god, are you men drunk?” he asked.
“No sir,” Aeolwyn said, “it’s a ruse to stop any prying eyes from guessing at our mission.”
The general leaned forward and stared at Aeolwyn intently. He stepped back under Alaric’s intense stare. “Are you suggesting that there are spies inside the camp, corporal?”
“It’s possible sir. Better to take the precautions.”
Alaric leaned back into his chair. “I agree. What do you have for me?”
Aeolwyn produced the papers they retrieved from the outpost and presented them. He deliberately held back the note from his brother. If the general was in league with Alfyn to kill him, it was best to not let Alaric know that Aeolwyn knew.
After reading the papers, Alaric stood and walked over to the lone cabinet in the office. He took a bottle from inside and poured a healthy dose into his cup. He brought the bottle with him and set it on his desk before sitting and taking a long drink.
“I suspected as much,” Alaric said. “There’s just too much evidence to not have come to this conclusion earlier. I have already ordered preparations to be made, and fortunately Lord-general Harmin has agreed.” Alaric handed another note to Aeolwyn.
General Alaric,
We suspect war is near. I have spoken with the king and his advisors, and we agree that it is time to reinforce the outposts. It is of prime importance to send Prince Aeolwyn to Lannic Outpost along the northern banks of the River Tyr. Please proceed without delay.
Signed,
Harmin, Lord-General and Supreme Commander of the Camulan Armies
Aeolwyn sighed. Was his father the one sending him to the outpost, or was it his brother? Alfyn had promised to deliver him to the Fenns, and this might be part of his plan. It had to be a trap, and as Sir Jom said, the best way to protect yourself against a trap is to spring it on your own terms. Aeolwyn wouldn’t deny this order. He would go willingly and be prepared for an attack.
Aeolwyn handed the paper back. He noticed it was of the same type and shape as the one from his brother in his pocket. That was not a coincidence. Though it was written in Lord-General Harmin’s hand, he was certain Alfyn was behind it. The question was, why was his father allowing this?
“Can I bring my squad this time, general?” He was not going to go without his men.
“Most certainly,” the general replied. “In fact, I will be sending Captain Flint and his entire banner with you. Your group will be placed under his command.”
“Can we trust him, general?” Galafar asked.
Alaric fixed him with an angry stare. “It is one thing to be careful of spies, soldier. It is entirely another thing to accuse one. Are you accusing Captain Flint of working for the enemy, Soldier Galafar?”
Galafar backed down. “No, sir.”
His caution was warranted though. Aeolwyn had no idea who was in league with his brother. In fact, if it came down to it, he would suspect that all of the soldiers were in league with Alfyn one way or another. They would kill Aeolwyn if the crown prince ordered it. He would encourage Galafar to continue to be suspicious.
After a bath, Aeolwyn finally made it back to his bed, with a stopover at the stables to visit Sefalus to make sure he knew they would be moving to a new house soon. It was bound to be less comfortable than the fort, but he would make do. Sleeping outside had done wonders for his ability to fall asleep anywhere.
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Reiva insisted on sleeping in his room again. It was either that, or she was going to sleep outside his door. Now that his enemy had been unmasked, she didn’t want to take any chances. It was weird and uncomfortable, but he allowed it. She would have found a way in regardless of what he told her, anyway.
He only slept a few hours and was up again just after noon. He was still tired, but decided that if he slept all day, he wouldn’t sleep again that night and he didn’t want to be exhausted when it was time for the group to move out to Lannic Outpost.
He pulled Brakus aside and let him know to inform the men to be ready to move out in the morning. He didn’t want to deal with all the questions they might have, and since the men trusted Brakus, he thought it was best if he told them. Aeolwyn would be back in the morning to rouse them from their beds when it was time to get moving.
The rest of the day he spent alone or with Sefalus. It still hurt that his brother was the one trying to kill him, and he was trying his best to process this new information. He wondered when Alfyn had decided that he wanted Aeolwyn dead, and if his father knew about it.
He decided the king must not know about it, or he would have put a stop to it. He was undecided on whether Harmin were in on it though. The messages putting Aeolwyn in precarious situations were written in Harmin’s hand, so he must have been involved.
He went to bed early, before Reiva had returned from whatever expedition she had been on. He hadn’t seen her much. She followed him around for a bit in the morning, then slinked off at some point when he went down to the river. Fortunately, she didn’t ask him to pour out his feelings, since he was sure it was apparent what kind of mood he was in.
When he rose before dawn, Reiva was on the floor in his room, smelling of liquor. She had a thick pack beside her and had cuddled up to what appeared to be new boots. He didn’t know what was wrong with her old ones. He picked his way carefully around her and left the room as quietly as he could, though he was certain she was already awake.
He found Brakus still in his bunk, but not sleeping. He was just lying there in bed, staring at the ceiling. Aeolwyn carefully made his way to the bunk. With the amount of snoring in the barracks, Aeolwyn didn’t have to wonder what was keeping his most trusted advisor up.
“Rouse the men,” Aeolwyn told him. “Have them assemble in the armory.”
Brakus nodded and climbed out of his bunk. Aeolwyn returned to his room to wait. He didn’t want to already be there when the men had assembled. That would be awkward. He was right about Reiva. She was already up and waiting for him outside his door.
“I’m going to be honest with the men,” he said. “They are going into danger, and they should know to expect an ambush.”
“You don’t know that,” Reiva said.
“I do know that. If I wanted my brother dead without any evidence pointing to a murder, sending him into an ambush by our enemy would be the first thing I would think of. I want them to be ready for it.”
She shrugged and slung her pack onto her shoulder. “I’ll meet you at the assembly,” she said. “Don’t get killed before then.”
He grabbed his own things, what few of them there were, his helmet, chainmail, weapons, and the chest of gold, then headed over to the stables. The stable hands were still asleep, despite the fact that a chunk of the army was leaving. Most of them were infantry, so there was no need to prepare a host of horses for departure.
Aeolwyn chose not to wake them, and saddled Sefalus on his own. He fastened the helmet to the pommel but put on his armor. It was starting to get tight—he would need a larger one soon. His squad weren’t the only ones who needed to be prepared. He walked his equine friend over to the armory and tied him to a post. A light was on, and he could see his men inside. The quietness of the fort was diminishing as the soldiers were rousing for their duties.
The men stood at attention when Aeolwyn entered. He waved them off and instructed the guard who had been watching the door to leave. The guard protested, but Galafar and Brakus ensured he understood the message.
He looked around at the small group of men. They stared back expectantly and shifted around nervously. This sort of address before a march was usually done by the general right before they left. Not in secret by a corporal.
“Men, I assembled you here this early, not because I wanted to punish you, but because I wanted to be forthright about something.”
The men looked to each other nervously, but no one interrupted.
“My life is in danger,” he said, “and I expect that someone will try to kill me during our march to Lannic Outpost. I don’t know if that will take the form of an ambush or an assassin, but it’s likely one or the other.”
There was a great commotion at that. Some yelled how they would ensure that wouldn’t let that happen, while others screamed that they would save him from any danger. It made him smile to know that all these men, whose ages ranged from only a little older than him to significantly older than him, would put their lives on the like for him.
He waved them to calm. “I have no fear as long as you are around me,” he continued. “I have the best bodyguards in the whole kingdom.” Some cheers from that statement. “But I want to make sure that you know what we’re walking into, and I want to make sure you are prepared for it. Any questions?”
Only one voice, “who, sir? Who wants you dead?” It was Palrik.
“His brother,” Galafar said before Aeolwyn could tell him not to. He shot his friend a glance but made no effort to correct him.
More yelling and stamping of feet. So many men shouted at the same time he couldn’t understand what any of them had said. He wanted to keep that part a secret, but he supposed they deserved to know.
“It’s true,” he said. “So, if any of you have any reservations about going against the wishes of the crown prince, now is the time to voice them.”
None spoke, save one. It was Diryn. “We’ll follow you all the way to the palace, sir. I just demand the honor of my sword being the one to strike him down.”
Aeolwyn shook his head. “It won’t come to that. At least, not yet.” He glanced outside. The sun was peeking over the horizon and some of the other squads were assembling in the courtyard. “Men are beginning to assemble. Let’s go join them. And don’t breathe a word of what I’ve just told you. Spies may be about.”
He made sure to shake each man’s hand and say a kind word or two about him as they left. He wanted to remember who they were fighting for, and he thought it would be good for morale to make sure they knew that their commander cared for each of them. Despite that, he couldn’t shake the feeling that one of them could be a spy as well. He didn’t want to believe it of his men, but they could be anyone.
After they filed out, Aeolwyn dug through the equipment in the armory until he found a shield. It wasn’t the best one of the bunch, but it would do. The shield in the outpost had reminded him. In the skirmishes he had been in, particularly in the one-on-one battles, he had been using his dagger as a de-facto shield, but a blade was a poor substitute.
He fastened the shield to Sefalus’s saddle and led him over to the assembly area. The grand total of soldiers leaving was about a hundred. Not many. Captain Flint was a capable instructor and drillmaster, but Aeolwyn had not seen the man in actual combat. He hoped that when it came down to business the man would know what he was about.
There were no speech, no words of inspiration. Just a calm, “Move out,” when the group had assembled. That wasn’t how Aeolwyn would have handled it. Men liked to be talked to. They liked someone to say something to mark the occasion of change. This wasn’t just a simple patrol; these men were moving from the safety of the fort to the discomfort and exposure of a poorly defended outpost.
With nothing to mark the event, the soldiers just began walking out of the north gate. Those who had horses mounted them and rode beside the squad they were assigned to. It was a slow, somber trip. The men knew where they were headed and what was at stake. If given the opportunity, they would have chosen to stay behind, and Aeolwyn couldn’t blame them.