The Crown of Treason

Chapter 4. Hide and Seek (part 3)

   Geralf cleared his throat. Iwan didn't know how to thank him for the gesture.

'May I add a concrete suggestion to your plan, young master?'

Iwan nodded.

'If it is possible to climb on board of one of the ships at anchor, we could acquire a few coils of sailing robes. These ropes we could attach to an arrow or a spear so that we can pull ourselves to the bank of the river.'

An excited murmur arose from the circle, albeit this time without the grip of despair. Stealing coils from a ship would be a risky business. Even if it succeeded, would they have to get barrels into the water and escape unnoticed? Were there enough hours of darkness left? It was their only chance. Staying in the attic was no option.

The booming sound of the Bronze Maiden alerted the circle. Schildenburg's metal guardian of strife and joy echoed through the night. The raw voice of a Southern commander answered the call. Below the attic window, the marching sounds of armoured boots clattered towards the inner city.

In the distance, the sounds of battle became louder. The empty streets of the harbour now lay unprotected.

'The Bronze Maiden...' Lady Ilene spoke.

'A sign,' Oryn whispered.

'Iwan how many hands do you need to steel those coils?' The air in his mother's voice had shifted night and day. Her words had cut the knot.

Iwan felt a wagon's load of bricks fall of his back. His mother, the countess, stood by his plan.

'The minimum possible,' he replied. His voice jumped as he spoke. 'Duboys would be a fool to give up the Water Fort,' he recovered. 'His men will still hold the quay and the watchtowers, no question.

Iwan felt a blush of red glow articulate his cheeks. Once again he allowed control of the situation to slip between his fingers. As always Thorvan would have told him...

'Attitude and rhetoric are a point of improvement. Remain calm and remain resolute.'

'By the Strider, how come he never seemed to listen to good advice...?'

He had spent hours in tutoring, staring at maps, thinking of strategies, explaining them step by step. It was nothing compared to the choking pressure of a decision required in the field. Geralfs never-fading ear forced him to weigh his words.
Now he had to remain calm.

Al of his studied knowledge had proven meaningless. Passion, certitude, strength of will, and the ability to control deeds and dialogue, they had nothing to do with knowledge, they were built by experience. The more he thought himself over, the more he felt his posture slip into fear. He had to put wisdom in his words. Even when his voice was shaking, even when everything around him was about to collapse, he had to be calmness itself. All to inspire confidence. If he couldn't master the attitude, years of studying books, law and art would be a waste.

Thorvan had tried to explain it to him. Only now he understood.

'In the end it nothing but background knowledge,' Geralf had described his education. 'Just the occupation of the mind to give yourself a toolbox when the moment of need arrives.'

Iwan took a deep breath.

'I'll go myself with two pairs of hands to assist,' he decided. 'That should be enough.'

No words were spoken in opposition.

Four shades stepped forward. In the flickering light Iwan recognized Boris, Marcus and Dank, three sergeants, all of the with years of experience and Anya, Gawan's wet nurse. She had the annoying habit of getting involved with the affairs of men.