CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Kate fidgeted as she waited behind the rocks, staring out over the ocean. She tried to make herself into a thing of unmovable rock, still as the chalk cliffs nearby. It didn’t work though. She’d been waiting there too long for that.
“Nine-tenths of warfare is waiting,” Lord Cranston said, in the rocks not far from her. He wasn’t crouched and stiffening like Kate and the others there, but was instead sitting comfortably on a camp stool he’d arranged for the purpose. He was even reading a book of what appeared to be poetry, occasionally reading sections aloud in Ancient Helene as if Kate would understand.
“It feels as though we’re working on the other tenth as well,” Kate complained. Birds wheeled overhead, the waves crashed on the shore, and still there was no sign o
