“Please go to sleep,” Mott said. “Tomorrow will be better if you can face it with a clear head. Besides,” he added once I started to object, “I can’t sleep if you won’t, and I’m exhausted too.”
I wasn’t sure whether I would be able to sleep, but by then I was willing to try. The aches and stings from the battle had caught up to me and even ducking inside the tent felt like an impossible chore. I collapsed on the cot fully clothed and was asleep before Mott had left.
I slept solidly until first light, when I arose and got to work. I first exchanged the battle-stained coat from Dawn for a simple gray-laced shirt and a belt for my weapons. Then after eating a hearty meal, I went alone to survey the area, eventually finding myself at the overlook of Falstan Valley. Far below me, the Roving River emptied into this valley, creating a beautiful wide lake. Or, it used to, anyway.
The Roving River began somewhere in the mountains of Gelyn and wound southward through Carthya, supplying water to most of our people. This same river ran behind Farthenwood, and was where I had lain after taking a wild ride on one of Conner’s untrained horses, and also where I had confessed my true identity to Mott. Dawn and the women of Drylliad now guarded this river near the castle walls.
As it left Drylliad, the Roving River gradually cut deeper into the earth, leaving high canyon walls on either side. I stood on one of those walls now, not far from my camp.
Falstan Lake, and the valley surrounding it, had been named for an early explorer of these lands. He had commented in his journal on the beautiful sight of coming upon the cool blue waters of the lake. Our people had enjoyed it ever since then. I, too, had many good memories of swinging into the waters from a rope hung from some of the tall trees on the shore.
But for well over a month, the lake bed had been dry. All that came through the caked valley floor now was a thin vein of river water, only a pale shadow of what it should have been.
Falstan Lake still existed, or at least, the water from the lake still existed. Except that instead of a wide, deep lake, it was bottled up in the canyon at my back, trapped behind a steep wall of rocks, logs, and mud. As the water rose higher, so did the dam of debris. Now it was nearly even with the earthen cliffs beneath my feet. From my angle, it looked as though an entire hillside somewhere upriver had collapsed and the debris had become lodged here.
As the commander had indicated the night before, Avenia was nowhere in sight, but Mendenwal was entrenched in their own camp not far from the lake’s former bed. The soldiers of that camp had enough water for cooking and drinking, and to manage their animals. But little more. There certainly wasn’t enough water for the men to bathe in, and I hoped the smell of so many sweaty and dirty soldiers was choking them. Not that I was in a position to judge. After so many battles and the miles of dusty road in between, I needed my own bath. By now I was sure my odor offended even the devils, which was no small feat.
Mendenwal must have known our camp was here and yet they had not attacked. Why? Perhaps they were waiting for Vargan and his men. It surprised me that they waited at all. Mendenwal had thousands of men here, far more than we’d encountered near Drylliad. Surely they would look at our fewer numbers and see their advantage.
From what I could determine, Mendenwal had crowded their soldiers into a semi-sheltered knot of land that would be nearly impossible for my men to breach. They were near the dry lake bed, but surrounded by sheer slopes. It would be a long ride for us to approach from the south and attack from on top of the slopes. And I was certain the entrances to their camp were very well guarded should we attempt to enter it directly. The only way to defeat them was to draw them out. I had some ideas about that.
After a careful survey of the area, I returned to camp and held council with Mott, Tobias and Amarinda, and my military leaders. We described all we had seen in our battles, and they told me similar stories of their troubles. Little of what we discussed was encouraging.
Mott shared with the group a message that had come in from Drylliad earlier that morning, which was that the nearness of our battle yesterday had thrown the capital into disarray.