THE GENERAL KNOCKED.
“Enter,” said the self-styled King of the Bitter Sea as he looked up from a hastily scribbled note just handed him by his Captain of Intelligence, Kahil.
General Nordan entered and shook off the snow from his cloak. “You found us a cold land to rule, Majesty,” he said with a smile. He gave Kahil the briefest nod of greeting.
Fadawah, former Commanding General of the Army of the Emerald Queen, now ruler of the City of Ylith and the surrounding countryside, said, “At least it’s a cold land with food and firewood.” He waved in a vague fashion to the south. “We’re still getting stragglers in from as far away as Darkmoor who paint a bleak picture about conditions throughout the Western Realm.”
Nordan motioned to a chair and Fadawah nodded. While old companions, they observed the formalities, as Fadawah prepared to launch his spring campaign. The General still wore the ritual scars on his cheeks, marks given him when swearing loyalty to the Pantathians. He had considered attempting to find a witch or healing priest who could remove them, for when he had finally realized that the Pantathians were as much dupes as he was, he had killed their remaining high priest. As far as Fadawah was concerned, he was no longer bound to anyone. He was his own man, and he was in a rich land with an army. But Kahil had reminded him the scars were intimidating and kept the men in awe of him. Kahil had served the Emerald Queen before she had been destroyed by the demon, but he had proven a valuable and trusted advisor since the change in leadership of the invading army.
By last count over thirty thousand men had found their way into the south end of the province of Yabon. He had organized them, stationed them, and now controlled all the lands from Ylith south past Quester’s View, north to the outskirts of Zun, west to the city of Natal, which was now occupied by more of his own men than their own pitiful defenses. He had also captured Hawk’s Hollow, a small town, but one giving him control of a vital pass through the mountains to the east.
“Some of the men don’t like the idea of staying,” said Nordan. The stocky soldier rubbed his bearded chin, and cleared his throat. “They’re talking of finding a ship and going back across the sea.”
“To what?” asked Fadawah. “To a land burned out and overrun by barbarians from the grasslands? Besides the dwarven stronghold in the Ratn’gari Mountains and some surviving Jehsandi in the North, what is there left of civilization? Did we leave a city standing? Is there anything there to support us?” Fadawah scratched his head. He wore a single long fall of hair and shaved the rest of his head, another sign of his devotion to the Emerald Queen’s dark powers. “Tell any of the men who are talking this way that come spring, if they can find a ship and take it, they’re free to leave.” He looked off into space, as if seeing something in the air. “I want no one here who isn’t ready to serve me. We’re going to have a serious fight on our hands.”
“The Kingdom?”
Fadawah said, “You don’t think they’re going to sit idly by and not attempt to regain their lands, do you?”
“No, but they were terribly mauled at Krondor and Darkmoor. The prisoners tell us they don’t have much of an army left to put in the field.”
Fadawah said, “If they don’t bring their Army of the East over from Darkmoor, true. But if they do, we need to be ready.”
“Well,” said Nordan, “we won’t know until spring.”
“That’s only another three months,” said Fadawah. “We need to be prepared.”
“You have a plan?”
“Always,” said the wily old general. “I don’t want a two-front war if I can help it. If I was stupid, I could find myself in a four-front war.” He indicated a map on the wall of the room. They were currently occupying the estate house of the Earl of Ylith, dead by all reports along with the Duke of Yabon and the Earl of LaMut. “If our information is right, we face a boy up in LaMut.” He rubbed his chin. “We need to take LaMut as soon as the spring thaw begins, and I want Yabon in our grasp by midsummer.” He smiled. “Send a message to the leader in Natal …” He turned to Kahil. “What’s his title?”
“The First Councilor,” supplied his Captain of Intelligence.
“Send the First Councilor our thanks for his hospitality in providing billets for our men this winter, and send him some gold. A thousand pieces should do.”
“A thousand?” asked Nordan.
“We have it. And we’ll get more. Then withdraw our men and bring them here.” He looked at his old friend. “That will at least keep the First Councilor on our good side until we return to Natal, take and keep it.”
He pointed to the map. “I want Duko and his men down in Krondor by then.”
Nordan raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
Fadawah said, “Duko makes me uneasy. He’s an ambitious man.” He frowned. “It was only chance that put you and me first and second on the Pantathian’s roles, else we could be taking orders from Duko.”
Nordan nodded. “But he’s a good leader, and he’s always obeyed without question.”
“That he is, which is why I want him at the front. I want you down behind him, in Sarth.”
“But why Krondor?” Nordan shook his head. “There’s nothing there.”
“But there will be,” said Fadawah. “That’s their Western Capital, their Prince’s City, and they will move back there as quickly as they can.” He nodded to himself. “If Duko can keep them busy until we seize all of Yabon, then we can tum our sights on the Free Cities, this Far Coast region.” He pointed to the western coast of the Kingdom. “We’ll reoccupy Krondor and move back toward the old battle line. What’s that place?”
“Nightmare Ridge.”
“Well named.” Fadawah sighed. “I’m not a greedy man. Being King of the Bitter Sea is enough. We’ll let the Kingdom of the Isles keep their Darkmoor and the lands to the east.” Then he smiled. “For now.”
“But first we must retake Krondor.”
Fadawah said, “No, first we must make them think we want to retake Krondor. These Kingdom nobles are not stupid, they are not self-consumed like those of our homeland.” He remembered how shocked the Priest-King of Lananda had been when Fadawah and his army had refused to heed his order to leave his city. “These are smart men, duty-bound men; they will come at us, and they will come hard. We must expect that.
“No, let them think Krondor is the prize, and when they realize we are firm in Yabon, perhaps they will negotiate, or perhaps not, but either way, once we have control of Yabon, we are here for good. Let Duko get punished lest he become ambitious.”
Nordan stood. “If you permit, I’ll tell the men those who wish to leave in the spring may.”
Fadawah waved his permission.
“Majesty,” said Nordan, leaving Fadawah alone with Kahil.
To Kahil, Fadawah said, “Wait, then follow Nordan and see who he speaks with. Mark the men who are the leaders of these dissidents. They will have accidents before the thaw, and then we can put to rest this nonsense about returning to Novindus.”
“Of course, Majesty,” said the Captain of Intelligence. “And I applaud your design in putting Nordan down in Sarth.”
Fadawah said, “Design?”
Kahil leaned over, putting his arm around Fadawah’s shoulder, and he whispered, “Put all your disloyal commanders to the south, to insure that when the enemy exacts their price for our conquest, those we can most afford to lose pay it.”
Fadawah’s eyes became unfocused, as if he was listening to something in the distance. “Yes, that is wise.”
Kahil said, “You need to surround yourself with those who can be trusted, those who are loyal beyond a doubt. You need to return the Immortals to a place of prominence.”
“No!” said Fadawah. “Those madmen served dark powers—”
Kahil interrupted. “Not dark powers, Majesty, but vast powers. Powers that can insure your rule not only in Yabon, but in Krondor, too.”
“Krondor?” asked Fadawah.
Kahil clapped his hands twice, and the door swung open. Two warriors, each with ritual scars on his cheeks that matched Fadawah’s, entered, and Kahil said, “Guard the King with your lives.”
Fadawah repeated, “Krondor.”
Kahil rose and departed, closing the door behind him. A faint smile passed across his face before he turned and left upon his next task, following Nordan and marking those men for death who displayed even the smallest hint of disloyalty.
Fadawah looked at the two soldiers and motioned for them to stand away from him. The scars on their faces reminded him of the dark and distant time he was caught up in the magic of the Emerald Queen and the lost months when the demon had ruled her army. He hated feeling used and would kill anyone who again attempted to use him as the Emerald Queen had.
He moved to the map on the wall and began to plan his spring campaign.