Dar was doing his best to keep his mouth shut, but Pop was starting to steam. “What if I could get us in closer, Pop?” he asked.

Martin raised his eyebrows.

“It’s like this, Pop,” Dar ventured. “I’m not trying to get south of you or anything. I mean, I think I get it that you’re not new at this sort of—”

“Darnan?” Martin’s eyebrows had come back down and narrowed.

“Well, Pop,” Dar swallowed. “It’s like this... you know the game, but I think I know the theater a little better.”

“Theater?” Martin’s eyes rolled a bit and he looked accusingly over at Av.

“Area of operations,” Dar clarified. “Whatever. What I mean is, I know some things you maybe don’t about this particular situation.”

“For instance,” Martin was listening.

“Mr. Entigh,” Dar switched his attention to the store keeper. “You’ve got keys for everything over there, don’t you?”

“Well...” Entigh cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Yes. Yes, of course I do.”

“Just like you’ve got spare keys for just about everything anybody in your family owns — for emergencies,” Dar smiled.

“Well, yes,” Entigh said. “Why shouldn’t I have master keys? My children know all about them. Why?”

But Dar had already switched his attention to his father. “See here, Pop?” he pointed to an oblong outline along the eastern edge of the stead. “The place isn’t laid out so much different from ours. The milking barn is right out against the outer wall. So they don’t have to run the allox in through the middle of everything come milking time.”

Martin shook his head. “I’d already thought of that, Dar,” he shook his head. “They’ll have the allox gate guarded, it’ll be barred from the inside, and it opens into an open corral in any case.”

“Ah,” Dar grinned. “But what about the door down into the manure pit?

“Mr. Entigh,” he turned back to Mailyn’s father. “They keep the spreader down there always?”

“Of course,” Entigh said. “Where else would they keep it?”

Dar was looking back at his father. “We go in through the pit, edge past the spreader. It should be foul enough down there to keep anybody who isn’t awful serious about it well clear.

“There’s a doorway into the calf pens?” this to Entigh, who nodded.

“In through the calf pens,” he said to his father, “up the stairs, and we’re in the milking barn, right in amongst ‘em and none the wiser.

“From there, with the keys,” he indicated Entigh again with a nod of his head,” I can leg it across to the main house. It’s only, what, a hundred yards or so?”

Entigh nodded, but Martin was shaking his head again. “Dar, do you have any idea just how far a hundred yards is in broad daylight when you’re under fire? Or when you’re in danger of being under fire? Those yards stretch out quite a bit, Son.”

Dar shrugged. “I’d kind of already taken that into account, Sir. Kis— Av, he liked to use pellet rifles when we were training fire and maneuver.

“I figured we’d wait until dark.”

Martin was glowering at Av, silently promising future discussions about the shooting of his son with pellet rifles.

“But won’t they have all the yard lights lit by then?” Entigh asked. “Pascal had quite a number of them. They’ll light that place up brighter than daylight.”

Dar wasn’t put out. “Incandescents aren’t the same as the sun, Mr. Entigh,” he explained. “And between the buildings and the dragon stakes all over, there will be all kinds of shadows I can use, and I can use shadows.”

“Still,” Martin was thinking aloud. “It’s five hours to dark. That’s a very long time in this kind of situation. There’s no way of knowing when they’ll start missing that patrol. They get antsy over the missing men, things could go haywire pretty quickly.”

Dar shrugged again. “Yes, sir,” he said. “That’s a danger. But what can we do about it? I mean, we can try to get into the barn right away—” he stopped suddenly and turned back to Entigh.

“Mr. Entigh,” he asked urgently, pointing to the stead plans. “This is wrong, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“They moved the hog operation outside the walls, didn’t they?” Dar pressed.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Oh!” Entigh smacked a hand against his forehead. “That’s right!”

“—‘cause Evie didn’t like the smell,” Dar finished for him.

“Well,” Entigh temporized, “that was one reason. Mostly Pascal wanted to expand it.”

“Where’d they move it?” Martin demanded, fuming.

“Here,” Entigh spread a hand along the outside of the stead and eastward.

“Draw it,” Martin ordered. “You know the layout?”

Entigh nodded and went to the cabin of the truck for a pencil.

“They cleaned up the pens and sheds inside the walls,” Dar told his father as Entigh started sketching. “They use them for dry storage now — machine and tractor parts, and like that.”

“Could give us cover going in,” Av allowed, watching Entigh sketch out an extensive operation. “Depending on how busy it is.”

“Oh, it’s busy enough,” Entigh told him absently. Couple hundred head out there at any given time.

“Look how close in to the walls,” Dar pointed out. “That can’t be more than a hundred feet or so.”

“Sixty,” Entigh said. “I ain’t no draftsman.”

Martin remained silent. A plan was forming in his head. He watched silently as Entigh finished, listening to his son and father-in-law comment on the progress.

He looked up at the sky, judging how far it might be until dusk.

“Where is he pasturing the allox these days, Henry?” he asked finally.

Entigh straightened and scratched at the back of his head, thinking. “South pastures, I think,” he said uncertainly.

“They come in on their own come milking time, or does he send a hand out for them?”

Entigh was nodding. It was a question only another rancher would ask. “Come in on their own, mostly,” he said, looking up. “About two or three hours or so from now, I’d imagine.”

Martin nodded. It would be tricky, but they could probably make it. Not all the way in, or course, but close enough.

“What can I do to help?” Entigh asked.

“I don’t think there’s much—”

“She’s my daughter, damnit,” Entigh pressed. “There must be something I can do. You know me, Martin. How many of these parties have I danced at?”

Martin drew the campaign hat from his head and scrubbed at his scalp with his off hand. “There might be something...”

“What?” eagerly.

Martin made the decision. “Go back to town, Henry,” he said calmly.

“What?” Entigh’s voice cracked. “I thought—?”

“I’m not finished,” Palin hushed him.

“Go back to town. Get on the constables’ radio and call Eastmarch. I don’t suspect anybody’s using their station at the moment. Don’t bother with the encrypted channel, just broadcast in the clear.

“Let them know that Kestrel’s probably gone and the Westerling heavy packet as well. Let them know that we’ve got problems here as a result.

“Tell them the constables are dead and we don’t know what to do about it. Try to sound scared. There’s a very real chance that none of us will be able to issue any warnings in a fairly short time here, so if nothing else, that’ll be out of the way.

“You may not raise them this time of the cycle,” he warned, “but I want the call sent in any case. Every half hour until somebody answers or this is over with, understand?”

Entigh nodded.

“Next, wash your truck — I want that bright red paint shining. We want those gents in there to see that nice big Entigh’s Mercantile sign without having to strain their eyes. We don’t want them thinking you’re anything but a worried shopkeeper.

“Finally, round up as many militia as will fit in the back and haul ‘em on back here.”

“Militia?”

Entigh was puzzled. He knew Palin’s opinion of island militia. Shared it himself, truth be told. He’d been involved in too many real militaries in his time to have any patience with those make believe weekend soldiers.

“Yes,” Palin affirmed. Hell, round up as many as will come — any who won’t fit in the truck can walk or find other transportation. But swing ‘em around wide and stop them here,” he indicated a line well inside the trees north of the stead. I’ll want you going on alone.”

“Marty...?” Av’s voice intruded, but Martin waved him to silence.

“You went to a whole lot of trouble to pack out that fifty, Henry,” Martin nodded to the heavy gun. “Shame to waste it. Any of those knuckleheads know how to use it?”

Henry rubbed a hand across his face. “Use it use it?” he asked. “Like set up the tripod, adjust traverse, set the headspace and timing or change a barrel? Not hardly. But thumb the spoon long enough to burn a couple of belts, once I show them how to set the gun up, sure, there are one or two I can trust not to shoot any of our own or get their fingers stuck in a feed pawl. Why? I thought you said—”

“Plant one of them here with a couple of belts, then,” Martin stabbed a finger at the map northeast of the stead. “Set the traverse and elevation for him, though. We’ll want him able to rake the front wall walkway from here,” he ran his finger along the drawing, “to here, but physically unable to point that thing anywhere else. I don’t want him able to even accidentally swing that gun in our general direction.

“One quick traverse right, one slow one left, and then abandon the gun whether there’s ammo left or not. And I mean get the hell away from it. Got it?”

“Got it,” Henry nodded uncertainly.

“How long?” Martin asked him.

Entigh’s eyes were narrowed and his face hard. “to get there and back, gather everybody, set things up? Two-and-a-half — three hours,” he said. “Three is probably closer. Maybe a bit more if I can’t kick enough asses into motion fast enough after what they saw this morning.”

“Good,” Martin smiled grimly. “That ought to be just about right.

“Now, once you get the militia set up out in the woods, here’s what I want you to do....”

Av was looking hard at him as the old Oshkosh rumbled out of sight. “They opened up on the constables on sight, Marty. With a forty or fifty millimeter automatic cannon, looks like.”

“But the constables were in an armored car,” Martin pointed out. “Not a delivery truck. And alone, I can’t imagine they’d see him as any sort of threat.”

“It might make ‘em start wonderin’ what happened to their boys out in the trees,” Av cautioned. “Wonder why they’d let some gomer get in close without doin’ something about him.”

“If the patrol’s orders were to kill anybody they encountered on sight,” Martin said softly. “But how likely is it that any sane commander would give that order? More likely that they’re supposed to sound some sort of alarm if anything dangerous, like a platoon of militia or something comes a’roarin’ up the road. Somebody who seems harmless, they might just let through — let the boss handle it. I mean, they didn’t have a radio with them, right? So there’s not likely any provision for warning that doesn’t involve gunfire.”

“And you’re willing to risk Henry’s life on that big a maybe?” Av was a little shocked.

Martin looked over at him, eyes flat. “It was his idea, Av.”

“But you know better.”

“C’mon, Av,” Martin didn’t bat an eye. “We’ve gotta be ready ourselves.” Suiting action to words, he started off towards the tree line.

“Marty!” Av called out to his back.

He turned.

“You ain’t him no more, Marty,” Av cautioned. “You don’t have to be him no more.”

Martin Palin stared at him for a fraction of a second out of cold eyes. “Don’t I?” he asked before turning and resuming his trek.