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gathers ships in the main harbor of the Ostisles. That is a voyage of two weeks with the most favorable of winds.”
    â€œThe seas are clear,” pointed out Wilten, “but the Sea-Priests hold Narial and the coast all the way east to the Ancient Cliffs, do they not?”
    Secca nodded. “We will have to use the glass to find a landing where we will not have to fight our way ashore. There are few Sturinnese lancers on the lowland coasts west of Narial. It’s a longer voyage, but there are roads north to Envaryl.”
    â€œThey could take Envaryl any day, could they not?” pressed the overcaptain.
    â€œNot with the lancers they have within fifty deks of that city,” replied Alcaren. “They have sent companies of lancers throughout Dumar to root out those who oppose them. Even if they tried to regroup the very day we set sail for Dumar, they could not gather more than twenty companies and send them to the coast by the time we land.”
    â€œThis you are sure of?”
    â€œIt might be fifteen; it might be twenty-five,” Alcaren conceded.
    â€œThat is why we need to sail as soon as we can,” Secca said. “We cannot count on the Sturinnese to keep their forces spread, and we do not wish to wait until another fleet is gathered and filled with armsmen and lancers.” And drummers and sorcerers , she added to herself.
    â€œHow long will that be?” asked Palian.
    â€œI hope not long,” Secca replied. “I meet with the Matriarch tomorrow, and we will see.” She turned her eyes back to Wilten. “Can all be ready within the week?”
    â€œWe can be ready,” the Defalkan overcaptain responded.
    Secca looked to Alcaren. “And the SouthWomen?”
    â€œThey have been ready for several days. A few more days will help in training the new recruits.”
    â€œRecruits?” asked Wilten.
    â€œAmong the younger SouthWomen there has been no dearth of volunteers to go fight the Sturinnese. Captain Delcetta and Captain Peraghn have been able to be most selective in those they accepted.”
    Wilten nodded slowly, almost stolidly. To his left, Palian offered a knowing smile, while Delvor bobbed his head, and then pushed back the lock of brown hair that always fell across his forehead, and always had in the score of years Secca had known him.
    Secca stood. “We’ll meet after I’ve talked to the Matriarch. Then we should be able to finish planning how we can retake Dumar.”
    As the chief players, Wilten, and Richina stood, and then slipped out, Secca kept a smile on her face, despite the near absurdity of what she had so blithely proposed. With perhaps a half-score of ships, six companies of lancers, two groups of players, and three sorcerers, she was talking about reconquering a land held by more than a hundred companies of Sturinnese lancers, supported by dozens of Darksong drum sorcerers. While she might expect two companies of SouthWomen, her own four companies of lancers were already well understrength, and she could expect few if any reinforcements, while her enemy gathered a fleet of between two- and fourscore warships and transports and scores more companies of armsmen and lancers. To the north of Dumar in Neserea, a rebellion raged, and if that turned out badly, she might find another sorcerer arrayed against her—one who had powers similar to her own, and interests far closer to those of the Maitre of Sturinn.
    The smile remained, and she said nothing until the door closed. Then she sighed as she turned to the window and looked toward the harbor, although she could see only the masts of the ships tied at the piers.
    â€œEveryone thinks we can do this,” she said slowly.
    â€œIf we cannot, the Liedwahr we know is doomed,” Alcaren said, stepping up behind her and slipping his arms around her waist, if loosely.
    â€œIf we can, it is also doomed,” she replied softly.
    â€œI know.”
    For a long