Miles looked up at his father. “Did I do the right thing, sir? Last night?” “Yes,” said the Count simply. “A right thing. Perhaps not the best of all possible right things. Three days from now you may think of a cleverer tactic, but you were the man on the ground at the time. I try not to second-guess my field commanders.” Miles’s heart rose in his aching chest for the first time since he’d left Kyril Island. He nodded, satisfied.