At the Queen_s command

"Yup. Shot him dead. Burned his head. Ain't no more need for no nightmares."

"Yes, I see. Merci." He turned and drew deep water with the paddle.

Makepeace spat in the direction of the departing canoe. "By the Grace of God I hope that boy done learned a lesson."

"Wurms sooner to grow wings, I'm reckon." Nathaniel scratched at the back of his neck. "We're a week to Anvil. Another week to paddle our way across, give or take. Couple islands we could lay up on, ain't there?"

Makepeace squatted and drew a rough map in the dirt. The outline resembled an anvil with the top running north to south, and the beak pointing north. The lake narrowed toward the east, then broadened out again into the anvil's base. The Green River came in at the southwest quarter, and the Roaring River went out very close to it. The Tillie outflow split the eastern shore in half.

"Couple small islands near that fort. Jumbles of rocks mainly. Two big ones, one to the north, one straight east of that fort. North we won't see nothing. East we would have a good view, but your man would be an idiot iffen he didn't have no troops there."

"Why won't we see anything from the north?"

The giant traced a thick finger through the earth. "Jean called it the heights. Mess of hills."

"Could we get closer in the hills than the island?"

"We could up and just walk on in, but ain't likely your man will let us get back out again."

Owen nodded. "I understand, Mr. Bone, but I need to study that fortress. I need to make maps. Just drifting past and running away isn't enough.

"I know this is a very dangerous proposition. You are all courageous men but no amount of money could compensate you for this risk. I fully discharge you from any obligation. I'll write a note to the Prince and would ask you to bear it to him. I have no choice but to go there. I do not ask the same of you."

Nathaniel's eyes became slits. "Iffen there's not money enough to pay for anyone to go take a look-see, how come you're going?"

"I am a sworn officer in Her Majesty's Army. My orders are to survey Tharyngian positions in Mystria."

"Wouldn't no one know if you just didn't go. You'd not be the first to take a new name and adopt a new life."

"That would be true, Mr. Woods, but I would know." Owen lifted his chin. "I do not choose to live a dishonored life."

"Seems to me you think we would."

"No, not at all." Owen opened his hands. "Once we sail west of the shore, we will be in territory which, according to the 1760 Treaty of Mastrick, belongs to Tharyngia. Dressed as I am, I will be taken as a spy and shot. You will share my fate. And if a fraction of what we suspect is actually true, a fate worse than death may await us all."

Nathaniel arched an eyebrow. "This ain't you being all noble and Norillian and all?"

Owen shook his head ruefully. "You are my friends. I value your lives too much to put them in such obvious danger. I appreciate all you've done for me. I hope I've learned enough to let me complete my mission. I have no choice but to go."

Nathaniel stretched. "Well now, I is only speaking for me, but I don't reckon I have a choice neither. See, when all them Branches and Casks was a-wagering on how long you'd last out here, I done took their bets. And I doubled up on them, saying you'd be coming back alive. I reckon I have an investment to be protecting."

Kamiskwa nodded. "My sister wants you to bring her doll back. I go."

Makepeace rose, clapping the dust off his hands. "I been a-waiting for whatever that shepherd done saved me for. I'd be a durn fool iffen I thought this weren't it. Besides, last time I checked, killing Ryngians was more a virtue than a vice."

Owen nodded solemnly. "One more thing you'd best understand. We are going to be invading enemy territory. We're going to war. I understand war the way you understand the wilderness. From this point forward, I am in command. If I give an order, you obey. Is that understood?"

The other three exchanged glances, then nodded. Nathaniel tossed him a ragged salute. "Lead on, Captain Strake. Into the mouth of Hell and back out again."

Caution slowed their pace so that they reached Anvil Lake at noon a week later. It took them until mid-afternoon on the day of their arrival to locate and repair two canoes. Makepeace, using bark, some pitch and prayer managed to duplicate Kamiskwa's work. The patch held just as well, though did not blend seamlessly. When they launched Owen watched for any signs of leakage, but the canoe remained intact.

They kept to the northern shore and moved at night. They worked their away along carefully, never more than twenty yards out from shore. This afforded them some cover from the northern wind but, more importantly, made it harder for anyone in the fortress to see them.

They made good time on the water and by the third day, they stopped near the headland where the lake made a jog to the north into the anvil's beak. The northern island lay northwest of them. A sliver of moon provided them enough light to reach it undetected.