Lothar retreated The Rotten Apples before the advancing goblins. They followed the Auster south, stopping for only a four hour sleep, with hourly watches.

  He had cause to curse when they set off, still in darkness. Ashlyn and Izil had slipped off in the night. He’d given Christoph permission to leave for his family farm, but not those two. Izil was a liability, intent on getting revenge at any cost. He was tired, too, of Ashlyn’s disobedience, and how it made him look. He understood that she was motivated by her father’s death. She was young. But she could have spoken to him; and he had a war to fight.

  Such feelings were conflicted by his promises to The Bowman and Manslayer that he’d look after the girl. He was growing tired of feeling responsible for everyone.

  I’m done with mercs who can’t be professional.

  They passed through farmland increasingly empty, and stripped of anything that could give the goblins sustenance. When they arrived at Avolo, Lothar found a city transformed. A militia had been established. It manned the gates, the walls, and the streets. He reckoned the population of Avolo had doubled. It had attracted many refugees, since it was the only settlement in Gal’azu with solid defences. The only other option for worried settlers was to head west, where with any luck they might avoid the war. Lothar wondered how Eisenberg fared; he wondered about his project of Mer Khazer, which he hadn’t been able to spend time on since its founding.

  But he had to focus on the here and now. He got his squad settled at The Smashed Marbles, before readying himself to leave. ‘Henning,’ he called, adding a jerk of the head for good measure. The tall scout wandered over. Lothar was finding he increasingly relied on the man to manage things for him. He just had to hope it wasn’t another Cap situation all over again.

  ‘Stiff,’ said Tree.

  ‘I need to find out the lay of the land. Treat this place like a fortress while I’m gone. And if I don’t come back, do your best for them.’

  ‘You think you might not come back?’

  ‘I don’t know. Would you put it past the Blairs to try to do me in?’

  Tree shook his head. ‘Anything’s possible, I suppose. You’re going alone?’

  Lothar thought about it. ‘Probably isn’t wise. Baron!’ He called out.

  They walked through the early morning streets. ‘I guess I’m being paranoid about the Blairs,’ Lothar said, as much to himself as to his companion. ‘I doubt they know we’re here.’

  ‘I would venture that as much as they might want you dead, they realise we all have bigger fish to fry. Killing you would only add to the feud—your mercs would try to avenge you.’

  ‘That’s reassuring to hear. Though I have my doubts about whether the Apples are as devoted as you imply.’ He eyed the thief. ‘That wasn’t a subtle piece of advice, was it? You know I didn’t agree to Greenblade and Izil leaving. I’m the one who stopped them going after Rylan Blair.’

  The Baron shrugged. ‘I just think you need to find some common cause with the Blades. Gal’azu is kind of depending on it.’

  Gal’azu, Lothar thought. And the little project you share with Rosalind.

  Foberoy’s house was guarded by well armed sentries. Lothar wondered how well they could use the weapons they’d been given. They were admitted inside, and shown to the merchant’s study, where they waited.

  The door barged open and his daughter, Clara, entered. ‘What news from out there?’ she demanded, red-faced.

  Lothar and The Baron stood. ‘The goblin army is out there, Miss Foberoy,’ Lothar told her. ‘But not close to the city.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ The Baron added. ‘You are perfectly safe in Avolo.’

  ‘Don’t cosset me,’ she shrieked at him. ‘I’ve heard what happened to Dorwich. We’re next. And the council has banned any ships from leaving. We’re stuck here!’ It looked like she might say more; or start to cry. Instead, she stormed back out of her father’s office.

  Lothar heard Urkal’s voice murmur something to his daughter as they passed, then he entered the room she had exited. ‘Apologies. Emotions are high in the city. There’s a lot of doom mongering.’

  ‘No need to apologise,’ Lothar said, retaking his seat as the merchant slumped into his.

  ‘I need your report, first,’ Urkal said.

  Lothar forgave him for his abruptness. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked worn down. No doubt there had been a lot to organise. He didn’t exaggerate his Order’s efforts too much—implying they had done more fighting than they actually had. He admitted his destruction of Linby’s bridge.

  ‘Sounds like you’ve had it easier than the Golden Blades.’

  ‘I’ve lost three mercs!’ Lothar said, glancing across at The Baron to see if the thief would contradict him. Not that he should have. It wasn’t a lie. Exactly.

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  Urkal stared at him. ‘So you haven’t heard?’

  ‘Heard what?’

  ‘The Golden Blades were virtually annihilated at Dorwich. The Blairs made it back here with only four mercs for company. So far no other survivors have shown up.’

  Lothar’s mind spun at the news. The Blades had seven. The Apples had thirteen. Allowing for quality, it meant they were probably even. It was a remarkable swing in fortunes. He was reminded of his very first days in Gal’azu. Disembarking in Avolo, and running into Wynter and her cronies at The Anchor. The man sitting next to him had been his second recruit, after Trent Wade. With those two notable exceptions, there had been slim pickings at first. Sal Blair had commanded the best warriors and specialists in the land.

  How did I manage such a turnaround?

  Then his mind turned from the pros to the rather large con.

  ‘Then the goblins? Avolo?’

  ‘We think we can hold the city. We have enough manpower for the walls. Mayor Chorley is currently in Fuyang, putting the finishing touches to a treaty with the Kuthenians. They’ll help supply us by sea. If this goblin king tries a siege, we’ll outlast him.’

  ‘Huh. Chorley has disappeared to Fuyang? We won’t see him again.’

  ‘That’s unfair, Sauer.’

  Lothar waved a hand. ‘Maybe.’ He didn’t know the man. ‘What’s next?’

  ‘Not sure. We’ve done our best to save Avolo. The next question is, can the Apples and Blades do any more? I suggest a meeting. The three of us. And I think De Cheney should be there. Any objections?’

  Lothar found all he wanted to do was see Rosalind again. The rest of it somehow faded into insignificance beside her. ‘No.’

  Six of them gathered that night at Foberoy’s. Lothar took The Baron again, while Sal Blair was accompanied by a taciturn scout who went by the nickname Clamor. Lothar thought it was quite amusing.

  Urkal went up in his estimation by serving the last batch of his best whisky. ‘Don’t know when this will get imported again,’ he said morosely. But it served its purpose in loosening a few tongues.

  ‘I hear you lost only three mercs at Linby,’ Sal began.

  Lothar could sense the simmering anger in the man. One such as Sal Blair, who had lost nearly everything, could be dangerous.

  ‘Aye,’ he said guardedly.

  ‘Who?’

  Lothar nearly offered up the name of Izildra Bizra. But if Izil made a reappearance later, it would reveal him to be a liar. ‘No one you know.’

  ‘No one I know?’ Sal replied with incredulity. ‘The list of Blades killed in Dorwich is near endless, yet you lost no one I know? Because I can list quite a few Apples, seeing as many of ’em were my mercs once. Let’s see. Tree, Mental, and Smoke. Fortune, Pecs, The Hoffmeister, Izil. Then there’s Bletcher. I’ve heard you have a gnome in your squad. Any of them among your three?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Many a merc killed in Dorwich was greater than Georg Hoffman. I reckon we took out five hundred goblins, all told. How many did you kill in Linby?’

  ‘Not as many as that. But then we had a goblin mage to deal with.’

  Blair gritted his teeth, and looked about the table. ‘The point is, The Blades have bled for Gal’azu. Why should we be asked to do more, when his crew have sacrificed nothing?’

  No one at the table had a ready answer to that.

  ‘I appreciate the sacrifice you made in Dorwich,’ Lothar conceded. ‘But what do you want from me? To get more of my crew killed, just to make it even with your losses?’

  ‘Yes. Why not? I can’t ask anyone to risk more when no one else in this godsforsaken city has put their life on the line.’

  ‘Understandable,’ Rosalind murmured. She flashed a look at Lothar, perhaps daring him to accuse her of taking the other man’s side. ‘But maybe we can discuss what needs to be done, and then work on sharing the responsibility.’

  Sal sighed. ‘First off, we need people out in the field who can track the goblin army, report on its whereabouts, and not get killed in the process. Clamor here is the only one I’ve got, but he can’t do it all.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Lothar said. ‘I have two scouts. One of them—Tree—you both know. The three of them could share that responsibility.’ He turned to Clamor. ‘If you can promise me you’ll work with them.’

  Clamor gave him a dull eyed stare, which made Lothar a little nervous. ‘If you mean,’ he rasped, ‘will I betray the people I work with…never.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Lothar. ‘Good. It’s a start. I will make my mercs available for guard duty. Myself included. Clearly, we all need to pitch in to get through this. If there’s anything else, you know where I am.’

  Tree, The Explorer, and Clamor left Avolo to track the approach of the goblin horde. Tree returned on the third day. He gave his report to Lothar and Sal Blair.

  ‘The two parts of the army have rejoined. They’re coming this way, but slowly. They’re sending lots of raiding parties out into the countryside. Looks like they’re struggling for food.’

  ‘Good.’ Lothar said. The council had imposed rationing on the citizens of Avolo, but at least they could keep everyone fed for a while. ‘Anything else?’

  The scout gave a wry-mouthed expression. ‘Just that mage. He knows we’re out there, and is playing his little tricks on us.’

  ‘What tricks?’ Sal demanded.

  ‘An idea comes unbidden into your head. “Maybe it’s a good idea to go attack that raiding party of goblins.” Or walk off a cliff, or into a river. The other night I thought Clamor needed killing.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s a good job there’s the three of us, to stop each other from doing something stupid. Talking of which, I should get back, if there’s nothing more.’

  They let him go.

  There was little else to do but wait. Rosalind, Urkal, and the council tinkered with their policies, but at this stage they had done most of the work. They had the walls, the supplies, and the manpower. What remained to be seen was whether the settlers of Gal’azu had the courage and unity to see off the goblin threat.

  Each day, when Lothar took his turn to man Avolo’s defences, he expected to see an army arriving on the horizon. But it never did, and the wait continued.

  Then the three scouts returned.

  Again, Lothar met with them along with Sal Blair, so that neither got to hear the news before the other.

  ‘They’ve turned west,’ Clamor said in his gruff voice. ‘Whether they ever intended to take Avolo or not, I don’t know. But if so, their plans have changed.’

  ‘The whole of Gal’azu is open to them—undefended,’ The Explorer warned. ‘They could soon take it all, and we’ll be left with this tiny rump of land, and nothing else.’

  Lothar understood. He’d envisaged a decisive siege here at Avolo—one he’d thought they had a reasonable chance of getting through. But ignoring Avolo seemed to play into the goblins’ hands. It was the land they wanted; and putting all their efforts and resources into defending the city had given it to them. He was angry he hadn’t seen the strategy coming, and ever more impressed with the goblin king who opposed them.

  Sal Blair sneered at him, a mocking pleasure in his face. ‘Now it’s your turn to watch everything you’ve toiled for taken from you.’

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