Ravna keyed in a request for two-way. They were less than five thousand klicks from Jefri now, even if they were sweeping by at seventy kilometers per second. Plenty close enough for a radio conversation. "Hei, Jefri!" she said. "We're here at last, but we need — " we need all the cooperation your four-legged friends can give us. How to say that quickly and effectively?
But the boy on the ground already had an agenda: "— need help now, Ravna! The Woodcarvers are attacking now."
There was a thumping, as if the transmitter was bouncing around. Another voice spoke, high-pitched and weirdly inarticulate. "This Steel, Ravna. Jefri right. Woodcarver — " the almost human voice dissolved into a hissing gobble. After a moment she heard Jefri's voice: "'Ambush', the word is 'ambush'."
"Yes… Woodcarver has done big, big ambush. They all around now. We die in hours if you not help."
Woodcarver had never wanted to be a warrior. But ruling for half a thousand years requires a range of skills, and she had learned about making war. Some of that — such as trusting to staff — she had temporarily unlearned these last few days. There had indeed been an ambush on Margrum Climb, but not the one that Lord Steel had planned.
She looked across the tented field at Vendacious. That pack was half-hidden by noise baffles, but she could see he wasn't so jaunty as before. Being put to the question will loosen anyone's control. Vendacious knew his survival now depended on her keeping a promise. Yet… it was awful to think that Vendacious would live after he had killed and betrayed so many. She realized that two of herself were keening rage, lips curled back from clenched teeth. Her puppies huddled back from threats unseen. The tented area stank of sweat and the mindnoise of too many people in too small a space. It took a real effort of will to calm herself. She licked the puppies, and daydreamed peaceful thoughts for a moment.
Yes, she would keep her promises to Vendacious. And maybe it would be worth the price. Vendacious had only speculations about Steel's inner secrets, but he had learned far more about Steel's tactical situation than the other side could have guessed. Vendacious had known just where the Flenserists were hiding and in what numbers. Steel's folk had been overconfident about their super guns and their secret traitor. When Woodcarver's troops surprised them, victory had been easy — and now the Queen had some of these marvelous guns.
From behind the hills, those cannons were still pounding away, eating through the stocks of ammunition the captured gunners had revealed. Vendacious the traitor had cost her much, but Vendacious the prisoner might yet bring her victory.
"Woodcarver?" It was Scrupilo. She waved him closer. Her chief gunner edged out of the sun, sat down an intimate twenty-five feet away. Battle conditions had blown away all notions of decorum.
Scrupilo's mind noise was an anxious jumble. He looked by parts exhausted and exhilarated and discouraged. "It's safe to advance up the castle hill, Your Majesty," he said. "Answering fire is almost extinguished. Parts of the castle walls have been breached. There is an end to castles here, My Queen. Even our own poor cannons would make it so."
She bobbed agreement. Scrupilo spent most of his time with Dataset in learning to make — cannons in particular. Woodcarver spent her time learning what those inventions ultimately created. By now she knew far more than even Johanna about the social effects of weapons, from the most primitive to ones so strange that they seemed not weapons at all. A thousand million times, castle technologies had fallen to things like cannon; why should her world be different?
"We'll move up then — "
From beyond the shade of the tent there was a faint whistle, a rare, incoming round. She folded the puppies within herself, and paused a moment. Twenty yards away, Vendacious shrank down in a great cower. But when it came, the explosion was a muffled thump above them on the hill. It might even have been one of our own. "Now our troops must take advantage of the destruction. I want Steel to know that the old games of ransom and torture will only win him worse." We'll most likely win the starship and the child. The question was, would either be alive when they got them? She hoped Johanna would never know the threats and the risks she planned for the next few hours.
"Yes, Majesty." But Scrupilo made no move to depart, and suddenly seemed more bedraggled and worried than ever. "Woodcarver, I fear…"
"What? We have the tide. We must rush to sail on it."
"Yes, Majesty… But while we move forward, there are serious dangers coming up on our flanks and rear. The enemy's far scouts and the fires."
