Evil for Evil Read Online Free Page A

now she was here,
     never more than a hundred yards away from him, and he couldn’t write to her anymore, let alone speak to her. He’d taken his
     country to war in order to rescue her, and thereby lost her forever.
    He grinned. And Orsea thought
he
was stupid.
    She’d be at dinner tonight. By way of exquisitely honed masochism, Valens had ordered the seating plan so that she always
     sat in the same place she’d been in the first time he’d seen her, seven years ago, when she’d come here as a hostage during
     the final peace negotiations. That reminded him of something Orsea had said about the war. Orsea had been wrong about that,
     but the phrase he’d used was nicely appropriate. Irony, Valens thought; irony follows me everywhere. When I was seventeen
     and she was here the first time, I wanted the negotiations to fail and the war to carry on, because as soon as there was peace
     I knew she’d go away and I’d never see her again. Now, war has brought her back to me again, like a cynical go-between. Pleasant
     thought: war wants us to be together so much, it’ll do anything to make it happen. I never knew war and love were so close.
    If my mind were a falcon, he thought, this is the point where there’d be the biggest risk of it not coming back to the lure.
     He pulled his shoes on and went back down the stairs to the library. It was time for the day’s reports; at least he still
     got some letters, but these days they were all from spies and traitors.
    Anser, reporting on the Eremian resistance. He frowned as he broke the seal. He’d sent Anser out of guilt, mostly. The purpose
     of the mission was to infiltrate the resistance and report back on its activities, but while he was there he’d undoubtedly
     be making himself useful, if only to help pass the time, and when it came to violence, Anser could be very useful indeed.
    Anser to Duke Valens, greetings.
    Things aren’t going well, but they could be worse. Yesterday we attacked the supply convoy for the main expeditionary force.
     We did a good job. It was the fifth convoy in a row that we stopped from getting through, which by my calculations means that
     fairly soon they’ll have to turn around and go back to the city or starve. Unfortunately, we got beaten up pretty badly in
     the process; over a hundred killed, half as many driven off and scattered, quite possibly caught by the cavalry patrols. The
     Mezentines have hired some new light cavalry; I haven’t a clue who they are or where they’re from, but they’re obviously used
     to operating in the mountains, and they’re proving to be a real nuisance. The bad news is, Miel Ducas is missing. If he was
     dead and they’d found the body, I think we’d have heard about it by now, it’d be the break the Mezentines have been waiting
     for. We’ve been trying to keep the fact that he’s missing quiet, but it won’t be long before it gets out. When that happens,
     it’ll probably be the end of effective resistance. It’s annoying, because we were holding our own, if not making any real
     progress. Meanwhile, I’m not sure who’s in charge here, though I have an unpleasant feeling it’s probably me.
    This is only a suggestion; but I understand you’ve got another Ducas there with you in the city, Jarac or Jarnac or some such.
     If it turns out we really have lost Miel, would you consider sending him here? The Ducas name means a lot to these people,
     and I guess your specimen’s now the head of the family.
    Things we need: food, of course, and boots and blankets; a few barrels of arrows would be nice, but I imagine you’d rather
     keep them for yourself. A good surveyor would have made a hell of a difference a week ago. If you can spare a couple of field
     surgeons, we could probably find something for them to do.
    According to some people who came in last week, the Mezentine seventh infantry have left the city, headed north. If it’s true
     I can’t account for it. I don’t trust the