Tonio looked up, sniffed.
"I smell smoke."
His partner kept his eyes on the forest edge.
"Of course you smell smoke; what do you think the army cooks over?"
"This smells different. Leaves, like the meadow at home in the fall. Look."
The other guard followed his finger. The plume was rising from somewhere past the near ridge above them, pouring lazily down the slope into the valley.
"It is odd. Think the Karls are trying to fire the forest?"
"Just one fire. I'll go tell Marko, see if he wants us to do something."
Ten minutes later, half a squad of legionaries was moving warily up the slope through the woods. Nobody. Over the ridge a small clearing, a bonfire mostly burned out.
Tonio felt something strike his shield, yelled out.
"Archers. Shields up."
More arrows from the woods beyond. One of the legionaries was kneeling behind his shield, a feathered shaft sticking out of his leg. The squad commander signaled the rest forward.
By the time they rejoined the wounded man, the fire had mostly burned out. Tonio poked at it curiously while two of the others improvised a stretcher.
"I think Your Majesty should see this."
Tonio, eyes down, urged forward, held up his blistered hands.
"Tell His Majesty what happened."
The legionary hesitated, spoke:
"It was the Karls, sir. Majesty. They had a bonfire upslope. Smelled funny. Officer took half a squad of us up to see. Two or three of them shot at us, ran away—one man hurt."
"Did you have anything particular to do with the bonfire? Put your hands in the smoke, did you?"
"No sir. Just poked it with my sword, make sure it was out, try to see what was in it."
"And you then wiped off your sword blade, as a good soldier would."
"Yes sir."
The Emperor turned to the physician. "Anyone else?"
"Not like that. But two soldiers, one the wounded man from his squad, had skin blisters, said they itched. After I saw Tonio . . ."
"Yes. There might be more—look into it. Not much we can do now. Next time . . ."
He turned to one of the other officers in the tent.
"Karol. You said your savages wanted to get into the fun, kill someone."
"Everyone still all right?"
The other two boys held out their hands; Asbjorn looked them over carefully.
"Good. Poison weed doesn't do much to me, some people touch it, scratching all over for weeks. Careful not to touch, washed after, still a risk."
"Do we do it again?" That was Hen.
Asbjorn thought a moment.
"Cleared out the big patch Jon knew about. Getting that much again a lot of work. This time we do it without the weed."
"What good does that do? Oh."
"Know where the enemy is going to be, half the battle."
Their preparations took most of the day. When they were done, all three went swimming, then Asbjorn and Hen went upstream, Jon into the woods. When they met again at the empty house—Jon's mother and the farm animals were with a neighbor ten miles farther up the little valley—there were trout from the stream to clean and cook, two rabbits from Jon's snares.
Hen pointed at the biggest trout.
"I got that one. It really works. You just have to stay very still, everything but the fingers."
Jon looked up from cleaning his rabbits.
"Harald told me. Didn't ever show me though. Said he couldn't do it left-handed."
"Tomorrow, after the ambush. All three of us can go—if I can't make it work, 'Bjorn'll show you."
Asbjorn held up a hand for silence, looked around, shook his head, went back to grilling fish over the fire.
In the middle of the night Hen woke up. Smell of straw, animals. The barn door closing. Asbjorn's head appeared as he climbed up to the loft.
"What is it?"
"Nothing. Just scouting to be sure. Thought I saw something earlier, maybe not. Go to sleep—lots to do tomorrow."
The first legionary came out of the woods into the edge of the clearing, shield up. More. The line moved cautiously forward, shifting right to avoid the blowing smoke. One man stumbled, cursed, fell forward. Arrows out of the woods; he jerked, lay still. The others kept coming, more cautiously still. A sound of cracking branches, two of the remaining four waist deep into a pit. One of them screamed, reached down, lowering his shield; more arrows.
Asbjorn saw a flicker of something off to the right, drew, released, yelled.
"Run."
He loosed a second arrow blind, followed his own order, cursing silently at the sound of the other two crashing through the woods ahead of him. No time to look back, skin crawling. Sunlight ahead. Through the small meadow. At the far side he turned, nocked, waited, sounds moving away, trying to remember.
Three figures out of the woods at the far side, running. Painted faces, hide shields. He loosed, heard the arrow strike the shield, aimed lower, loosed. No time; he snatched for his dagger.
One of the Bashkai dropped his axe, clutched at an arrow sprouting from his throat, stumbled, fell. The other two retreated back into the cover of the trees; 'Bjorn saw that one of them had an arrow in his leg.
"Run."
A stranger's voice. Glanced to one side. Mail, his own size, tunic gold brown. Another beyond. Longbows.
"More coming. Run now, talk later."
He saw them again clearly when all three came into the field below the house. Ladies of the Order, bow, quiver, sword. The one in the lead jumped the low stone wall, took cover behind it; a moment later she was joined by Asbjorn and the other.
The first Lady turned to look back at the house, Jon and Hen staring wide-eyed. He had heard women compared to flowers; this one reminded him of a sword blade. Something familiar. Who? She called out in a low voice: "Hen. Form up with us; they may still be coming."
Both boys picked up their bows, joined the three at the wall.
Half an hour later, the second Lady lowered her bow, turned to Asbjorn.
"Want to check out the woods on the far side. Can you cover—stay behind, shoot anyone tries to kill me?"
He nodded. She came over the wall, a weaving run to the forest edge; he followed.
By the time they got back, the other three were sitting talking, Jon still watching the woods. The slender Lady stood up as they arrived; so did Hen.
" 'Bjorn, this is Elaina; 'Laina, Asbjorn."
"And my sister's Kara. Caralla said she was afraid her crazy nephew would get Hen and his friend into trouble, asked me to come keep an eye on things."
Hen looked up, spoke in a tone of honest astonishment.
"She sent you to keep us out of trouble?"
Kara glared at him; Elaina grinned.
"Actually, she said that if Kara had kept me alive for the past four years, Asbjorn should be easy. She and Mother worry too much."
Asbjorn stopped watching her, turned to Kara.
"It was you in the woods last night?"
She nodded.
"Hammocks in the forest, wanted to scout things out a bit."
Jon spoke. "You can have Mother's bed if you want it; Hen and 'Bjorn are in the barn."
Kara shook her head.
"Woods are safer. Harder to find."