“Not give up to Seithenin,” said Charis. “I mean stop. Quit fighting.”

“Kian, do you know what she is talking about?”

“I have a general idea,” he admitted. “Look, Charis, do you think”

She ignored him, speaking only to Belyn. “The war does not matter. Something is going to happen very soon and we must be ready.”

“Ah, you speak of this prophecy-the coming catastrophe?”

“Yes.”

“Then you are talking nonsense, Charis,” he said gently. “I have heard those silly rumors for years.”

“It is no rumor, Belyn,” said Charis firmly. “I cannot explain why or how I know, but I do know-I know it is going to happen. Very soon. There is little time left.”

Belyn slumped back in his chair, his expression mingling pity and regret.

“But I did not come here to ask you to Believe me,” she continued. “I can offer no proof for what I Believe. I came to ask for”

Just then there was a rustle of tent flap and into the room stumbled the tall, broad-shouldered frame of Maildun. He stopped just inside the entrance and stared, his eyes puffy from sleep. “Charis! Dear sister, it is you! I was asleep and thought I heard”

“Hello, Maildun,” said Charis rising slowly. “It is good to see you.”

He crossed the room in a bound and swept her up. She grimaced and stifled a cry of pain.

“She is hurt!” shouted Kian.

Maildun released her at once. “Then what they say is true?” He looked at her wonderingly. “Kian said you had saved them. But what are you doing here? Will you stay?”

“If you will be quiet for a moment, we will all find out why she has come. She was just about to tell us when you came crashing in.”

“Something about a request,” said Belyn.

“A request? What sort of request?” asked Maildun, settling himself on the floor.

“Ships,” said Charis simply. “We need ships.”

“We have no ships to speak of,” observed Belyn.

“Perhaps not, but Seithenin does,” offered Maildun. “They are about all he has left.”

“Then take them from him.”

Belyn stared at her and laughed. “Just take them?”

“Have you any idea how difficult that would be?” asked Kian. “We could more easily walk into his palace and take Seithenin himself.”

“Wait a moment, Kian, there is a way.” Maildun leaned forward. “Charis, this is just what I have been trying to tell them.”

“Well, you have your chance,” she said. “Tell us now.”

“We send a message-an urgent message from Belyn to Meirchion, saying that we Believe we have Seithenin on the run”

“True enough,” remarked Belyn slowly. “Go on.”

“We tell Meirchion we think we can defeat Seithenin once and for all, but we need more men-many more men. We must have enough men to press the fight home. Meirchion must raise them, and we will wait, meanwhile, with all our remaining forces, at-ah, somewhere just out of easy striking range-for a week, no longer, until Meirchion can send the men.”

Kian gulped down his wine and threw aside his cup with disgust. “Let Seithenin capture such a message? You can not be serious. He would never”

Belyn raised a hand toward him. “An attractive bait, Mail-dun. But where is the trap?”

“Suppose Seithenin also received an urgent communication from Nestor?”

“What sort of message?”

“Something to the effect that he has detected heavy troop movement to wherever it is we are supposedly waiting, and Believes he has a chance to cut us off before our attack force can be established. Let Nestor say that he has three thousand men amassed at somewhere or other and ready to fight, but”

“Yes?” wondered Charis, becoming caught up in the intrigue.

“But fears he cannot reach them in time.”

“I see,” said Belyn.

“I do not,” replied Kian. “What does Seithenin care”

Belyn waved Kian silent. “It is subtlety itself,” he said.

“We simply suggest the means and let Seithenin outsmart himself.”

“Would he send the ships?” wondered Charis. “Would he really send them?”

“He might. He most certainly will consider it-it offers a most attractive way out of his dilemma,” Belyn answered. “The war has taken a turn against him. He will be under pressure from Nestor to be more effective in his raiding. After his most recent beating he is sitting in his palace licking his wounds, counting his losses, wondering what Nestor will say when he learns that their best ambush troops have been beaten. And here comes his chance to win his way back into Nestor’s favor, perhaps win a decisive victory-and at very low risk to himself.”

“Would he do it?” asked Kian, on his feet now, gripping the back of his chair with his hands. “Would he?”

“Would you if you were in his place?” Belyn rose and went to the table and poured more wine, which he downed in a single swallow. Both he and Kian seemed to have forgotten all about Charis and Maildun in their excitement over the plan. “If I were Seithenin I would send the ships-and pray to every god in heaven and earth that they get there in time. He will send them and sacrifice day and night for favorable winds. He knows we will wait only a week. And he knows that traveling overland Nestor can never reach us in time.”

“But by ship he would have a chance!” shouted Kian.

“It is Seithenin’s only hope.”

“He would do it.”

“He would be a fool not to.”

They fell silent and looked at one another. “How do we take the ships?” wondered Kian.

“Yes, and what do we do with them once we have them?” asked Belyn. Both men turned their gaze on Charis.

“Give diem to me,” she said.

“So you can sail away when the catastrophe comes?” taunted Kian.

“Catastrophe?” echoed Maildun.

“Precisely,” she agreed. “You said yourself Seithenin is losing. All he has left is his fleet. Without that, he must face the fact that he cannot win.”

“But Nestor”

“Without Seithenin to back up his schemes, Nestor will suddenly become far more interested in protecting his own borders than in overrunning ours.”

“He would never sue for peace,” Kian said.

“Who cares?” said Charis hotly. “It does not matter anymore what they do. Let them divide all nine kingdoms between themselves, for all the good it will do them.” She glared sternly at the two men. “If I am wrong, what has been lost? A little time perhaps. But if I am right, what is gained? Either way you have Seithenin’s ships, and either way you have won a great victory-perhaps ended the war.”

Belyn stared at Maildun, then at Charis. “We will do it,” he said, shaking a finger at her. “But by Cybel’s horns you had not the slightest idea what you were going to say when you came here tonight.”

“You may be right, Uncle. The details I leave to you,” replied Charis magnanimously. “Just bring me the ships as soon as you have them.” She pushed herself slowly, stiffly up from the chair. “I am going back to the palace.”

“Now? Tonight?” asked Kian.

“Yes, now. Tonight.” She waved aside his assistance. “I want to get back to the palace.”

“It is late, Charis. Stay,” Maildun said.

Belyn came to her. “Rest a few hours at least. Leave at first light tomorrow. I will send a guard with you.”

“There is no need.”

“I insist. You can have my bed-all our beds, in fact.” He put a hand on each man’s shoulder. “Your brothers and I will be working through the night.”