this camp to you. Here are the keys to the mage blasts.’
She blinked for a moment, then accepted the keys. Each was strung on a leather thong, secured to a ring, and labelled with the location of its mage blast. Now she alone could set off the blasts that would explode and drop the bridge into the river.
‘And here are the keys to this place.’ Elbridge gave Kel an iron ring. More conventional keys dangled from it. ‘Allow me to show you where they are used.’
She had not expected the place to be so big, or that so much work would already be done. She said as much to her escort.
‘They did it inside, most of it,’ the captain explained as they walked through the soldiers’ barracks. ‘Cobbled the floors together in sections in a barn at a homestead nearby – the house was burned, but we could use the barn. They worked all winter, planing boards, whittling pegs, cutting shingles, making nails. These northmen are the fastest woodworkers I’ve laid eyes on. They say they’re used to it, just not so much at one time.’
Outside, he led her towards the flagpole. ‘That long key’s for the stocks,’ he said, pointing them out. They framed the pole, with room for two men on each. Two yards beyond them was a flogging post. ‘Here’s another symbol of your office,’ he explained, handing over a cowhide whip. Kel nearly dropped it in her distaste but hid her feelings behind her very best Yamani mask. She didn’t want to feel the leather in her hand, so she hung it from her dagger hilt.
‘These convict guards, they need a touch of the lash,’ the captain informed her. ‘It’s the only thing they understand.’
‘Will they fight?’ Kel asked as they walked on.
‘If they don’t want to end up collared and on the march back to Scanra they will,’ he replied. ‘They know it. I trained them and the builders on weapons this winter, same as my own men. The convicts’ weapons are locked up in headquarters unless there’s need. I don’t know about Sir Nealan as a healer, but tell him he can’t let them come whining to him whenever they’ve a scratch. These prisoners take any excuse to get off work, and they love it when the healer’s a soft touch.’
With every word Kel disliked the man more and more. Obviously he was good at his job. The proof was everywhere she looked. His manner itched her, though. He didn’t talk about others as if they were human, only animals to be driven.
‘There’s so much room,’ she commented as he pointed out the pens where livestock was kept and the ground that would serve the cookhouse as a small garden. ‘I didn’t understand from the map just how much space we have.’
‘It’ll fill up soon, with civilians bringing their clutter and animals,’ the captain replied. ‘But it’s true we’ve more to work with than we thought last autumn. That’s Master Salmalín’s doing. My lord was showing him this place, saying how it was the best location for a camp. Master Salmalín opens his mouth and says – something, I don’t know what.’ The captain shuddered. ‘It – it made my bones ache. The ground close to the hills, it dropped about fifty feet. And the ground here starts rising up like an inchworm crawls. Suddenly we’ve twice the high ground to build on as we had before. Mages.’ Elbridge shook his head. ‘Very well, you can see we’ve storage sheds enough, and the latrines beyond.’ He led her through the rest of the camp. Stopping at its rear, he asked, ‘Have you questions?’
‘Not really,’ Kel told him. ‘I would like to go over the walls, if you don’t mind.’
Elbridge looked at her, his face impossible to read. ‘These northern woodsmen know what they’re doing, lady knight.’
‘I’m sure they do,’ she replied politely. ‘I just want a full view.’
She circled the camp once inside the wall on the ground, testing the trees that formed it, finding them hard and sound. The gate was also very well built and would take plenty of battering, if it came to that. She went to the first set of stairs and climbed to the top, not looking at the open air outside the rail. At the end of her page term, she had conquered her fear of heights, at least as far as being able to climb without either freezing or vomiting. Still, she would never like them.
On the walkway, she inspected its boards. They were as sound as the wall itself and placed low enough that the top of the wall would give her soldiers protection from enemy archers.
Since the guards were there, the captain introduced them. Kel shook hands with each man, looking him in the eye. Whispers ran the circuit of the wall but Kel refused to try to hear what was being said. She had been through this before, too. These men would respect her, or not, over time. There was nothing she could do now to win them over. She didn’t even try, beyond a smile and a firm handshake. She was responsible for their lives, not their affections. Did it scare them to know a green girl was in charge here? Or did they feel safe this far from the border?
She did not feel safe, for all that this was a well-built refuge. She knew the heavy forests that ranged on either side of the Greenwoods River north of the camp. Last summer had taught her just how many of the enemy could sneak by in such forests. This strong camp might not be enough.
It all depended on the Scanrans, their numbers, their allies, and their strange magic that turned chain, iron-coated bone, and iron sheets into killing devices. Kel wouldn’t be able to guard hundreds of civilians with the forty soldiers Wyldon had promised her. The refugees had to be trained to fight, not just the men, but the women, even the older children. Her next shipment of supplies had to include weapons if the refugees had none of their own.
In a day or two she’d start riding the country until she knew it like her palm. She’d make sure the refugees and soldiers knew it, too. Standing over the gate, she stared blankly into the distance as she made plans. They’d have to know the roads and trails to Forts Mastiff, Steadfast, and Giantkiller, and their escape routes to the south. She was lucky to have local people inside her walls. They’d know the hidden and not-so-hidden trails, bogs, pitfalls, and canyons around here, as well as the best hunting and fishing areas.
She realized the captain was speaking. ‘What? I’m sorry, Captain Elbridge. I was thinking.’
A corner of his mouth twitched – in amusement or scorn? wondered Kel. ‘I was asking if the lady knight had chosen a name,’ Elbridge repeated.
‘A name for what?’ Kel asked, looking at him blankly.
‘This place. We call it “this miserable mudpit”, but my lady will be living here. It’s your privilege to name it as you like,’ explained the captain.
Kel turned, her hands jammed into her breeches pockets, and surveyed her command. Men crawled over beams, hammered, sawed, unloaded wagons, called out to each other, visited the latrines. Wyldon, Baird, Neal, and Merric were emerging from headquarters. She glanced at the road below: here came the sledge with its military guard and its load of cut trees.
‘I suppose “Mudpit” is a little depressing,’ she admitted. ‘I’ll have to think about it.’
The captain bowed. ‘Very good, milady.’
They descended the stairs near the guard shack as the gates swung open. The sledge made its slow way inside the walls.
‘I see you’ve conducted your first inspection,’ Wyldon said to Kel. ‘What do you think?’
‘Captain Elbridge has done far more than I could imagine,’ Kel said honestly. For a hard, cold fish, she thought. ‘I’ll be hard put to keep up his good work.’ As soon as I’ve thrown his whip into the compost heap, where it’ll be of use, she added silently.
‘We’ve plenty of work to do in the infirmary,’ Duke Baird said. ‘But I’ve seen the plans. It looks good.’
Elbridge shrugged. ‘It’s these northern woodsmen. If they could find a way to eat trees as well as work them, they’d be rich men. Still, I confess, I’ll be pleased to be working only with soldiers again. These civilians are too contrary for my taste.’
He,