“Sandwiches have, and will always be, awesome,” I said and took a bite. It was delicious. Not only had the bread been soaked on the inside in some grease or cooking fat, but a few slices of peppers filled the inside as well. I moaned and took another bite, stuffing myself happily before the huntress.
“Right?” she said. “So, you’ve spoken with Quinn already. I’m sure you want to take a look at our defenses. A few of the players that are here gave us some tips, but if you have anything to add, we’d love to hear them.”
Adalee was still as beautiful as the last time I’d seen her, but dark rings were tucked under each eye and she had a haunted look about her. It made me sad to think that just a few weeks ago she’d been so much younger-looking. Still, Taelman’s Pond needed strong leaders like this, regardless of the price.
When I finished, she led us to the great tent that had been erected in the town square. Little more than freshly chopped trees buried in the ground, a series of tarps stretched over their tops, but it was cover, at least.
She held a hand out, gesturing to the structure. “Here is where many of those who live in the outskirts will be sleeping. There is still plenty of room, as many more were invited into the homes in town. For now, set down your gear here. Then we can walk the perimeter.”
We began at the gates. When we got there, I admired the extensive work that had been done. To either side of the road, sharpened stakes had been driven into the ground behind a trench. It was only a few feet deep but would act to slow any troops who wished to find their way through our defenses.
A stack of barrels were lined up and a man was removing a stopper from one. “What are those?” I asked, the fumes giving me some clue.
Adalee answered, “Those are all the quick pitch we could afford to make in the last few weeks.”
“Quick pitch?”
She grinned, her white teeth flashing mischievously. “Aye. You take the clearest, strongest booze you can find, and mix it with the tar that seeps from the ground north of here. The tar will burn on its own, but when it’s mixed with the alcohol, the results are a lot more… impressive.”
The man looked to be dragging it toward the gate, and I called out to him. “Hey there, where are you taking that?”
The soldier looked grumpy for a moment, but when he saw I was standing with Adalee, his expression changed rapidly. “I’m just following orders. We were told to soak the ground in front of the gate and to either side for fifty feet.”
I thought about it for a moment, and a few ideas flitted through my mind. I smiled, but commanded him firmly, “Hold off on that. I’m sorry, but Quinn will back me. Just let me look around the perimeter first. Thanks.”
I walked out the front of the gate and called a few soldiers over. It felt awkward giving orders, but not as uncomfortable as I’d feel if the whole town was razed to the ground. “I want five of you to come with us as we walk around the town.”
One made to argue but Adalee gave him a sharp look. Emboldened by her support, I asked the one obvious question that was driving me nuts. “Why does the trench not run through the road itself?”
“Our captain says it will make the enemy more likely to attack at the gates,” the man replied. “Don’t want them sneaking around us.”
I nodded, showing the man that his point was valid. Then I told him to dig the trench anyway.
“But miss, what if they just avoid the gate then? We want them to come in this way. That was why we were gonna soak this area in the quick pitch. Might kill a great many that way.”
“Perhaps, but I think they’ll attack the gate anyway, as it presents the widest path into our town. And they will no doubt be sneaking around us regardless of what we do here. Dig the trench and dig it quick.”
I turned away and gestured for the soldiers to follow as Adalee led us onward.
Little had been done to the south side of town facing the pond. A Pond Gate, as it had been named, was built to block the narrow path that ran around the town. It was just an up-jumped fence, yet it would most likely be enough. The western side of town, where the jail stood, was blocked by a sheer cliff. It was possible for the ratkin to march all the way around the town and try to descend the scree-covered cliff, but it would be near suicide to try.
We crossed through the middle of town again, this time heading for the northern border. This was the most vulnerable part of Taelman’s Pond, and when I saw the flimsy wall that had been thrown up, a cold fear filled my stomach. The homes were closely built, and the gaps between had been boarded up, creating a sort of wall. On each house, a platform had been built with just enough cover for a few soldiers take shelter behind.
The idea was as good as it could be, and I had to remind myself of the short amount of time everyone had in getting the town where it was. But the boards that ran between the houses could be climbed. The houses themselves were only seven or eight feet tall, the edges of their roofs often lower still. In all, the northern border of Taelman’s
