Attacking a fort owned by the head of a Great Family was writing your own death warrant. Especially attacking a fort that belonged to the Keepers of Iron. Their cavalry was the heaviest in Rellas. Their crest bore a hammer, both the symbol of their craft and a promise of their retribution.
“What happens next?” Shana asked, her voice flat.
“A day into the march, Filderon will send a scout to warn Falcon Point’s defenders that bandits are about to attack. The garrison will ask Dreantia for reinforcements. She will pull a company of knights from Kryss Britin, a town half a day’s ride from Falcon Point.”
The Magnars listened, food forgotten. To my right, Reynald’s expression had grown dark. A mercenary company, no matter how well trained and supplied, was no match for the Yolentas’ knights. Even if Dreantia didn’t dispatch her best, even if she sent her second, third, or fourth best, they would mow through the mercenaries like wild horses trampling a field of weeds.
“Filderon will throw the company against Falcon Point and clear off during the charge. Dreantia’s knights will arrive, crushing the mercenaries between themselves and the fort. Most of the company will die in the battle. Gort will survive, but he will be captured with a few others, convicted of banditry, and executed.”
Clover sucked in a sharp breath.
“His body will be thrown into a mass grave at the foot of the fort. I’m so sorry.”
The kitchen went as silent as a tomb.
“Well,” Shana said slowly. “We can’t have that.”
The brothers jumped to their feet at the same time.
“Sit down!” she snapped.
They sat.
“Why?” Shana asked me.
Now that was an excellent question.
I drank more tea. “Kryss Britin is a trade hub for Yolenta goods going north. The goods come off the ships and caravans, are given a quick inspection, and then are shipped to Kryss Britin, where they are inspected again and sent to their final destinations. That is where this barrel was headed.”
I nodded to Gort. “Time for your maul to shine.”
He looked at Will. “Do you want to do the honors? You’ve earned it.”
My hands shook. I hid them under the table.
Will got up, walked over to the barrel, grabbed the maul, and swung. The big war hammer smashed into the wood, right in the middle. The barrel creaked but held.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“Hit it, don’t tap it,” Lute said. “It’s not an ale keg.”
Will made a face and swung again. Wood cracked like a gun shot. The barrel burst, spilling salt on the tarp amid shards and splinters. In the middle of the salt heap, five smooth gray ingots reflected the light.
Relief washed over me, so overwhelming I almost passed out. I was right. I was right, I was right, I was right. I hadn’t screwed up. I would do a victory dance, except if I tried to stand right now, I’d probably fall over.
Reynald rose and picked up an ingot. He hefted it in his hand, examined it, and placed it on the table. “Gray iron.”
There were many kinds of iron in Rellas. Hard iron was for tools because it was strong and durable. White iron was for the mages because it was soft and pliant and took enchantment well. Blue iron was for armor because it was light, resilient, and didn’t rust. Gray iron was for weapons. It was tough and flexible, and it held a sharp edge the longest.
Everyone stared at the ingot. Gort picked up a smooth brick and let it fall on the table with a heavy thud.
Reynald turned to me. The expression on his face was indescribable. There was admiration in his eyes, surprise, and something more I couldn’t quite place. He was looking at me like I was a magician who’d made an elephant disappear in the middle of a crowded street. I would remember that look in his eyes for the rest of my life.
I allowed myself a small knowing smile.That’s right, Sir Reynald. Drink it in.
“I don’t understand,” Gort said. “The Yolentas own the iron mines. Why are they smuggling ingots in barrels of salt?”
“Dreantia Yolenta has an older brother,” I said. “Normally the oldest sibling heads the family, but Diodor doesn’t care about wealth or profit. He cares only about working with metal. I’m not even sure he understands the full value of money, but Dreantia does.”
