Few times Ymdaton saw a siege through defender’s eyes. Kinani were the attackers, raiders, invaders, but rarely the besieged. His scarce experience of fortified warfare however, did not prepare him for the siege of Khladnetz. He expected anxiety among citizens, the air of unease, heavy silence born of grim expectations.

As he strode through the streets, heading for the northern gates, he saw the city continuing its everyday life bravely. Merchants were heading for the market, their carries transporting various goods, mothers were taking walks with their infants, while children of more advanced age ran around, played, laughed.

The day was going to be busy. There was a war council today and he was expected to attend it. It was supposed to happen in a mansion among fields, closer to the forest’s edge. Perhaps it would have been more reasonable to take a bakhmat and ride there, but Ymdaton’s passion for walks persisted still.

There was another thing he wanted to do before arriving at the council. Yesterday a runner brought a sealed scroll to him. Inside was an invitation from Sumiaton. For some reason the venator die not send someone to tell him, neither visited in person. In the letter he asked Crewslayer to come to another house in the fields. The monster hunter moved there about the time the siege began.

When Ymdaton arrived there, he instantly understood that Sumiaton wanted to show him something. At some distance from the building were gathered kinani warriors in strength of about one and a half crew. They were practicing, assuming various battle formations at the command of Ahyq, who was observing the ranks. They carried banners with an image of a torn eye hanging on a string of sinew. Some even had the emblem painted on their shields. That was a personal heraldry of the venator. Crewslayer quickly approached the house, not wanting to be noticed by those warriors and forced into conversation.

He was led inside by a sefr. It was a huge mansion three storeys high, but it looked even more immense from the inside. Halls were all echoing, long, wide, with high ceilings. Ymdaton thought that it could give shelter to all the crewmen from the outside, if needed.

Sumiaton was at the last storey, in his personal chambers. The room was draped with expensive carpets and blankets, so that not a piece of wooden walls could be seen. The venator sat at the table, some maps, plans, and scriptures spread before him. He was wearing full armour, majestic and vulgar at the same time. It was gilded precious metals, adorned with rare gems, covered in carvings, reliefs and embossment, its solid parts were sculpted to mimic the muscle beneath.

“Quite a mighty display outside,” said Ymdaton, trying to keep his tone neutral, “But aren’t you going too far, making others carry around your signs.”

“It is permitted by master Azytenisar,” waved his hand Sumiaton, “It is a common practice at other islands for crews to have their own heraldry and banners. I don’t know why the idea was never popular at Isary. I am pioneering it.”

“What do you want to talk about?” said Ymdaton, sitting himself on a chair.

“You know, I was keeping an eye on you for a long time, longer than you are with High Crew. I knew from the beginning that there is a great future for you. I knew, because we are similar.”

“Meaning?” raised his brow Ymdaton.

“Our upbringing gave us the similar longings. Our fathers were similar in some way.”

“You have no idea what kind of a man my father was.”

“Do not get offended, please,” smiled peacefully Sumiaton, “What I mean is that we both were not given a solid foundation by our parents, everything that we achieved, was carved with out own strength, our names are built from nothing.”

Ymdaton was silent and the venator continued.

“I’ve conquered almost every pinnacle. I did everything I could save for starting my own noble house.”

“Do you plan on this?” grinned Crewslayer, his eyes staying cold.

“No,” said Sumiaton quickly, “Not yet, at least. I have debts to Abeneewy that are yet to be repaid. I saw myself in you. And so I thought, that from my position I could help you to rise higher. If only you help me also,” he made a dramatic pause.

“Proceed,” urged him Ymdaton.

“If only you fight under my banner, I will lead you to battles of a kind which is yet unheard off. I will put you on battlefields where most splendid song will be forged. You will become a hero of kinani, whose deeds will echo through centuries. I have few plans concerning the subduing of this damn forest, which I will tell to my troops today. Join us at our council, before the council of lord Azytenisar begins, you will like what you will hear.”

Now Crewslayer was keeping silence theatrically, almost mocking Simiaton with it.

“I know what you mean. It is true that your deeds in Odwitchni and before are grand, I do not expect anything less from you. But I was not a fisherman without a catch either. We are not the same.

I am a warrior, all that I have was achieved with my blade.

You, on the other hand, rarely get your hands dirty. You weave your plans, your tricks, your designs. Where I spend my own blood, you spend resources and human lives. Now you want my life also, so that you can buy some more glory for yourself with it. These ways of yours are the ways of lords. When they are used by an unlordly person, they evoke only repugnance.

You are trying so hard to be what you are not. Only disaster can be born of this longing.

I refuse.”

“Are you sure about your decision?” there was a hint of anger on Sumiaton’s face, but he quickly suppressed it.

“Yes.”

“I understand. Then you should be going, the war council begins soon.”

Ymdaton bid him farewell and left without hesitation.

As he headed for the council, he saw three dozens of throwing machines deployed right among the fields. They were typical kinani engines with two levers, hurling immense pieces of timber at unseen enemies behind the wall that barred the road. Following Sumiaton’s suggestion, rows of those machines were placed near every besieged fortification. They bombarded foes several times a day.

The mansion where Azytenisar gathered his council was already seen. Everyone protested when knez moved to live but few arrow flights from the frontline, but he said that only there he could observe the war clearly. When Ymdaton entered the meeting hall, men inside were already discussing something.

“Enemies approached by three principal roads: the lake road, the south road and the road to Belosten,” said elected commander Likhobor, pointing at the massive map of the forest. It was placed on a low table, around which all the council gathered, “According to my scouts, forces at the south and lake roads are rather small. While on the road to Belosten gathered the rest of the alliance army. It look like they are wishing to breach the walls there.”

“But how?” asked Azytenisar, “How does your kind usually resolve a siege?”

“With attrition,” answered the commander, “Siege engines like yours are unknown to us, the most advanced tool there being a battering ram. Usually one side would just deny the other resources so they do not have strength to fight. In Khladnetz, however, our rural lands are protected with walls, thanks to suggestion of ostrovyani, and now we can hold for years without starving.”

“Lulaton, what your spy says?” knez addressed his servant.

“The last news were that they tried to cut their way through the forest. They fear to simply walk through it. But Sumiaton's engines disrupted the lumberworks and they abandoned the idea. Since then I can’t get a messenger to return from enemy ranks, looks like they became so paranoid that they arrest even hunters,” reported Lulaton.

“The dugouts, though,” said Azandahy, “They dug trenches at the road to Belosten. Those pits are protected by piles of soil and wooden plates. They can not be reached by siege engines or bows. Enemy soldiers crawl there, they are certainly up to something.”

“What could they be possibly up to,” said loudly Sumiaton. No one noticed when he came in, “You heard it, forest dwellers know not a thing about siegeworks. They are probably planning to sneak through trenches, so they would not be flattened by projectiles or pierced with arrows, and then simply climb the wall. Or try to light it up with fire, or bring a ram. Nothing we couldn’t deal with.”

“They stopped digging too far away, yet their troops keep systematically coming in and out dugouts. For what purpose? Tell me, o master of stinging words,” retorted Azandahy.

“I will not let this meeting to descend into another verbal brawl of yours. Behave yourselves or begone,” uttered lord of Abeneewy calmly, yet in the way that everyone heard his words.

“We should just go and see what they are doing,” told Lulaton with a smile, “That may sound dull, yet it is the only way of knowing.”

“Closest parts of trenches are obscured by barricades. They are well protected against our eyes, as well as against our arrows,” said Azandahy.

“Recon by combat,” proposed Abimnupal.

“Suicidal, there are almost nine thousand warriors. They are camping on the road, so their ranks are stretched, yet there still will be enough to encircle and wipe out the scouting party. And I can not afford to send out a force of proper strength,” explained Azytenisar.

“Thank the stars, that they fear to leave their homes unprotected and brought only about two thirds of their warriors,” sighed Likhobor, “It might have been even worse.”

“Infiltration in the dead of night, when only sentries won’t sleep,” said Ymdaton, drawing everyone’s attention, “Sneak into their camp, kill whoever is awake and can oppose us, take a glance at the groundworks and leave back into the night. Move in and out through the forest, so there will be no chase, nor a need to open gates. You would not even put crews in danger this way, I can manage it with my drevlyani squad.”

“By the stars, you are insane,” smiled knez.

“That might work though,” scratched his temple Azandahy.

“Yeah, it might,” agreed Azytenisar.

“Permission, my lord?” asked Ymdaton with a grin.

“Granted. Just don’t die there, I will need you later in this war,” told lord of Abeneewy.

Ymdaton bowed to knez and the audience, and was on his way.

Abimnupal catched up with him some distance away from the house.

“Do you want me to assist you?” asked he.

“Why would I? You have your own duties.”

“I can always ask to reassign me. You are going on a quite difficult mission,” he stopped for a moment, probably choosing a word, “I rate your chances of survival as very low this time.”

“You say this every time,” laughed Ymdaton and slapped his friend upon the shoulder, “And you are always wrong. Lets consider it an omen.”

“You are dreadfully playful with your own fate,” grimaced Abimnupal, “Well, if it can’t be helped, then stars be with you.”

“Stars be with me,” grinned Crewslayer.