Dawn of the Ice Bear by Jeff Mariotte Page B

us?”
    â€œLikely they will,” Gestian admitted.
    â€œWhen they breach the walls, think you that they will leave any survivors at all?”
    Gestian paused before answering. He was covered in blood and soot from the night’s battles, and his eyes glowered as if from behind a black-and-red-streaked mask. “We left none in the Bear Clan village,” he noted, crossing to a window and looking out. Sharzen could see the uneven light from the flames flicker across the captain’s face and armor. “It seems safest to assume that they will leave none here.”
    â€œThis is my feeling as well,” Sharzen acknowledged. “Our chances of surviving this are slim. The reinforcements Conan has sent are still days away. I would prefer not to breathe my last away from Aquilonian soil.”
    â€œDo you have an idea?” Gestian asked. “A plan of some kind?”
    â€œMore of a notion,” Sharzen said. “I suspect that as yesterday, when the sun rises, the Picts will pull back. They know that darkness is their friend, darkness and the forest hide them from us. I propose that we take advantage of that fact. As soon as the sun rises, those of us left alive abandon Koronaka and make for Tanasul.”
    â€œDo you really think we’ll reach it?”
    â€œNot without a fight,” Sharzen replied. He let his eyes drift over his office—the physical symbol of his authority here, and the height of his career. He doubted that he would have much of a career after this. There might be a way to salvage it, but he would have to wait and see once he reached Aquilonia. If not, he would, at the very least, take with him as many valuables as he could manage. “There are certainly Picts watching the fort during daylight hours. They will see us, raise the alarm, give chase. But at least we will be on the move, not penned inside our own walls waiting for them to come in and pick us off one by one.”
    â€œYou speak wisely, Governor,” Gestian said. Sharzen could tell by the faraway look in his captain’s eyes that he was considering the possibilities. “Many would still die, but at least some might live.”
    â€œExactly,” Sharzen said. “Can you spread the word, then? We cannot let our defenses weaken now, but at first light everyone should be ready to make a run for it.”
    â€œI will,” Gestian promised.
    â€œAnd at first light,” Sharzen added, “I will need a force around me, of course, to guarantee my safe passage to Tanasul. As provincial governor it is vital that I be among the survivors, so that I may negotiate for our interests once we arrive there.”
    â€œCertainly,” Gestian agreed.
    â€œFirst light,” Sharzen said again, for emphasis. Not that he thought Gestian would forget. But he wanted to make very sure that, when the time came, he had his best men around him as protection.
    Most would probably never reach Tanasul, a settlement at least twice Koronaka’s size, with a bigger army and better defenses. Sharzen had every intention of doing so. And from there, of striking east for Aquilonia with a larger force, determined to put this place behind him once and for all.
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    THE RESTLESS HEART was anchored where they had expected it to be, its sails furled. No lights shone on board, but as the sun rose it gleamed off the wood of the ship’s hull, and Kral could see where to direct the dinghy.
    The group had waited inside Tarawa’s home while she went out and recruited some able-bodied slaves to help sail the ship. They had left Kuthmet before the dawn and traveled as far as they could before being forced to seek shelter from the most powerful rays of the sun. Once night had fallen, they had continued. At the shore, they had found the dinghy where they’d left it, and climbed in.
    The sailors on board reacted with astonishment when the small boat rowed up out of the rising sun, carrying not