"I came to ask you one more time to reconsider your orders forcing me to remain immobile at Charandaprash. After this disaster, more than ever, I'll need flexibility to buy time."

It was an old, old argument. Longshadow was weary of it. "If you cannot carry out your orders as given, General, without questioning everyone and nagging me continuously, then I'll find someone who will. That fellow Blade comes to mind. He's done wonderful things for us."

Mogaba inclined his head, said nothing. He particularly did not note that Blade's successes came because he was allowed exactly the sort of freedom of decision and movement that Mogaba had been petitioning for for almost two years.

Longshadow's outburst was not unexpected. But Mogaba felt obligated to try, for the sake of his soldiers.

The Strangler Singh took a step toward the Shadowmaster. His odor preceded him. Longshadow shrank back. The little man said, "They are moving against us. There is no longer any doubt."

Longshadow did not believe that because he did not want it to be true. "Winter has only just begun." But when he glanced at the Howler the crippled little sorcerer nodded his rag covered head.

He stifled a shriek stillborn. "It's true. Everywhere I look Taglian forces are on the move. None are large but they are everywhere, following every possible road. Singh's attempt to assassinate their top people seems to have set them off."

Singh's failed attempt, Longshadow did not say aloud. His own espionage resources were feeble now but they had gotten that much back to him. The alliance with the Stranglers was very unpopular and therefore very precarious. The Deceivers were loved no more in the Shadowlands than they were in the Taglian Territories.