“I do know that for certain,” I answered, giving him a slow smile when he turned his attention toward me. Carlisle wasn’t an unattractive man, but he was just too blustery for my liking. Regardless, I could imagine that in his day, he would have been the type of man to keep my bed warm. “I have been tracking him through my ravens,” I finished. “And he is very much alive, for now... though he is Arthur’s prisoner.”
While Corvin hadn’t returned, his horse, Wraith, had. The creature had simply returned to Caer Gwyll a day or so earlier, and everyone had immediately assumed the worst.
Carlisle frowned at me. “Even if Corvin is still alive, we don’t know where in the castle he’s being held.” I started to argue that point as well, but Carlisle held up his hand as his bushyeyebrows met in the center of his face. “My point is, we can no longer rely on him.”
“And my point is that walking our men into Camelot blind isn’t a rescue operation. It’s a memorial,” Vaelen said.
“Standing down isn’t strategy,” Carlisle muttered as he turned to face Vaelen, who was currently looking at me. “It’s surrender.”
“It’spatience—”
The room went quiet in that specific way it does when two men have spoken their own truths and neither one is ready to look at the other directly.
“It’s also,” Hailey said in the tone of someone who had waited long enough to be certain the silence was genuinely finished, “the only option that doesn’t end with us eulogizing our own men before Arthur has to lift a fucking finger.” She said the words without heat, without apology, and without looking at either of them specifically, her eyes on the map instead. “Just to name the third thing.”
Carlisle turned to look at her. His expression had the particular quality of a man recalibrating. “I know we’ve already been introduced,” he started.
She nodded. “Yes, we have. And if you’ll recall, I’m Vaelen’s right hand,” she interrupted, but did so pleasantly. “Which means when he’s busy being reasonable with you, I’m the one who’s doing the arithmetic on the backend.”
“And the arithmetic doesn’t add up,” I added as she looked at me and nodded.
“A rescue attempt without intelligence,” Merlin said as he turned to face the room, “is a death warrant.” He took a breath. “What is more, there is no rush.”
“No rush?!” Carlisle looked like his heart might give out on him right there.
“Arthur has exactly what he wants,” Merlin continued. “Two of our most important people. If he kills either of them, he loses. Thus, he will not. He will keep them alive merely because he knows they are important to us.”
His voice was steady, but it was always steady. I’d watched him be steady for years in the face of things that should have cracked him open, and I’d never decided whether it was strength or cowardice. Looking at the particular set of his mouth now, though, I thought it was neither.
“I agree with Merlin,” I said, and it was a statement I didn’t think I’d ever uttered before and probably never would again.
“Corvin failed,” Carlisle said again as he disregarded the two of us and turned to Vaelen. “That’s the fact. He went in, and he didn’t come out. The longer we wait, the deeper Arthur’s roots go into both of them. You know how this works. You’ve seen it work. The longer someone sits in that castle—”
“—yes.” Vaelen’s voice was flat. “I know how it works.”
“Then you know we can’t—”
“—what I know,” Vaelen said, “is that launching our men, what few men we have, into a castle at maximum security, without knowing where either operative is held, without knowing what Guinevere’s condition is, without knowing whether Arthur is planning for us to do exactly that—” he paused, very deliberately, “—means I’m sending people to die. Notmaybe. Notpossibly. I’m choosing, right now, at this table, to kill them.”
The silence stretched.
Carlisle’s captains exchanged a look. The older one had a scar along his jaw that pulled his expression slightly downward on one side, giving him a permanent air of contempt. The younger one was doing the thing young soldiers do when they’re uncertain: watching the senior men as if they might read the answer in their faces.
Hailey was watching the younger captain, not unkindly, but with the attention of someone who was filing information away. When she noticed me noticing, she didn’t look away. She just gave me that same unhurried nod as before, the one that meant she knew exactly what she was doing and didn’t require my opinion on it.
I was beginning to understand why Vaelen trusted her. She was the stillest person in the room, which was a considerable trick for someone who gave off the distinct impression of barely contained energy.
Regardless, I’d let this run long enough.
“As Merlin said, Corvin is very much alive,” I said.
Everyone turned to face me, and it was Vaelen’s face I found first as he smiled at me with that seductive expression of his. I gave him a lofty look in response before turning my attention to the others.
I kept my voice even. “Guinevere is also alive. They’re both in the dungeon, in the east corridor, which tells you something about Arthur’s state of mind. Guinevere’s condition is unchanged from last week.” I folded my hands on the table. “Not only do I have the eyes of my ravens, but I have contacts inside those walls, contacts I’ve had for years.”
“Contacts?” Carlisle repeated.
I nodded. “Allies, I suppose you could call them.”