Aldrick picked up a stout leather pouch lined with hammered lead foil and drew himself to attention-his way of dealing with the disorientation of what was coming. I picked up a small, heavy wood box, stood next to him, and spoke the words of power that caused us to vanish from my study and reappear seconds later in Krezk some forty miles to the west.

Opening his eyes, Aldrick then released a small sigh of relief, but made no other outer reaction to the spell. He would never be comfortable with magic, not entirely trusting it, but he did trust me. It was a testimony to his own loyalty that he traveled in this manner-which he had once confessed was quite alarming to him-without complaint.

Our destination was the aforementioned Krezk barracks, and though it was more than an hour past sunset activity was still high within its newly built walls. Sentries, traveling in pairs, paced alert at their posts while their companions saw to the endless tasks necessary to keep a large army unit at the ready. About one thousand were housed here, and the commander in charge made certain none could complain of boredom. They were the best turned out, best drilled, and best fed of all those in my service. They were considered the elite of Barovia, and that was likely the reason Azalin's Kargat had been sent here. What better place to undermine everybody's confidence than to thumb a nose at Strahd's finest?

My visit now was intended to make the troops put the recent butchery farther behind them and get them focused on the present.

I was gratified at the immediate response to our sudden appearance in the center of the parade ground. Half a dozen of the people on watch gave the alarm and came rushing in, swords drawn. They halted a precise two yards away and gave grim challenge. Aidrick solemnly provided the countersign and that evening's password; though it was obvious from their faces that the soldiers knew us, one must always follow regulations. Azalin's illusions were an ever present threat.

A runner was sent to Commander Resvalan's quarters, but she'd been expecting us and came to greet us, smartly turned out in the Von Zarovich colors of black, red, and white. She offered a formal salute, which we returned. Since I was in uniform, it was not necessary for her to bow as well in acknowledgment of my title. With the greeting ritual out of the way, Resvalan ordered her people back to their posts and led us to her administrative office, a small structure not far from the cooking sheds. She'd noticed the box in my hands but offered no comment or questions.

Everything here was built of wood and plaster, quickly thrown together out of necessity. There had been some worry about the danger of fire during an attack, but I had taken care of that possibility. Once I had finished, the whole of the Krezk barracks was fire-proofed, magic-proofed, and quite invisible from Azalin's scrying. If he wanted details of what went on here, he had to send in spies, and there were ways of dealing with them as well.

Resvalan gave up her chair and desk to me and stood to one side with Aidrick while she briefly rendered her daily report, which was satisfactory. I then asked for the list of volunteers I had told her to draw up and read over the names on it.

"Voan Darl's name is not here," I said after a moment. "Why is that?"

"The man is a trip wire waiting to snap, my lord," she candidly answered.

"Is he now? Would you care to elaborate?"

"He does not interact well with the rest of the troops. That can be a fatal liability on a raid."

"Yet he is very efficient at his job."

Several times in the past year I had sent him and his companions from Mordent on spying missions into Darkon, and they had returned intact and with much valuable information.

"Agreed, my lord, but he's a most difficult man to deal with. He's gotten it into his head that he's some sort of favored eccentric and above serving regular duty in the camp. Even the Darkon mercenaries will fall in with the rest for the drills; they know the training will keep them alive, but Darl's lot stay to themselves, citing that they are civilians."

"Which they are."

Recognizing his talent would be wasted were he to be absorbed into the main army, I had struck a special arrangement with Darl when I'd first hired him.

"But it's not good to have him and his friends sitting idle while the rest of my people are sweating through their exercises."

"I see your point, but the fact remains that he happens to be very good at his work and entitled to do whatever he pleases when not actively on a mission for me. If your people have a problem with that, you can inform them that should they exhibit a similar aptitude of expertise, then they may be allowed to sit out the drills themselves."

Her mouth twitched but she offered no further argument. I had the idea that her animosity toward Darl might be on a personal level. He wasn't a particularly handsome man, but was one of those who possessed the inborn faculty to draw the attention of most women.

Even Yersinia had felt his charm, and I knew her to be a most steady and level-headed lady. She had once told me that Darl was "perilous" and seemed to think that perfectly summed him up.

Though I couldn't see the peril myself, I could understand its consequence and accordingly took advantage of it when appropriate. His last disguised foray into Darkon required that he gain access into the house of one of Azalin's highest ranking nobles. Darl's method involved the seduction of the noble's wife, and-in all aspects-he had performed flawlessly, even returning with the needed information ahead of schedule. As there had been no executions in the family, it was to be assumed Azalin (and the lady's spouse) still did not know of the breach in his defenses.

Darl's success had in turn altered my immediate plans, for the intelligence he'd brought back was no less than Azalin's invasion timetable.

I had already discovered broad clues of it by observing the massive build-up of his troops along the whole of our common border. For the last month the small raids made by his zombies had trailed off and finally ceased altogether. My inner core of commanders and I knew the first-and likely final-battle was coming, but not precisely when.

Darl changed that. The next dark cycle of the summer moon would bring them, and it was just a few nights away. It was time to get very, very clever.

I ordered Commander Resvalan to call up the volunteer squads and went outside to inspect them. They were a motley-looking group. Barovia's resources were such that there was little coin to spare for niceties like matching uniforms. Those were reserved for the senior commanders who could afford the tailor work. All my people did wear cloth arm bands with my colors so that in the heat of battle they would not mistakenly attack their own. Beyond that they were in whatever conglomeration of gear they could assemble for themselves. Without exception they were very well-armed. That was one detail I did not dare stint on; the smithies were at work night and day. All those in this particular assembly were excellent fighters, some even skilled with minor magic spells, imaginative, resourceful-and unencumbered by families.

They dutifully exchanged their armbands for neck kerchiefs bearing Azalin's colors. As with me, only his top people had uniforms. He could afford the expense, but just didn't care to bother with it. As far as Resvalan knew, this foray was no different than any other I had planned, except on a larger scale than past efforts. She had chosen people who had previously worked well together-with the exception of Darl's band of civilians who worked with none but themselves. I had them called out, and one by one they sauntered up to stand in an informal line with the others, two women and three men. Darl came last, wearing the disgruntled face of a man who had just been roused from a nap.