Wincing from the pain in his ribs, Iko slid his practice sword into an open slot in the weapon rack and turned toward his opponent. The man’s face was covered in blood, his arm hanging limp.
“Thanks for the match, Tarvick,” Iko said. “You tagged me pretty good.”
Tarvick grunted. “A glancing blow. Not enough to win.”
Berd called from the side of the sparring yard. “You should be proud, Tarvick. You’re the first to hit anything but his shield, sword, or empty air.”
The comment elicited another grunt from the muscular guard as he turned and headed toward the barracks. Iko watched him retreat and imagined what would have happened if the match were one of life and death, with true blades in hand. Iko would have a slice across his ribs – one that would require healing or at the very least a bandage. Tarvick would have a bloodied face, much like he did now, but he also would be missing an arm and would have a hole through his stomach. The thought left Iko wondering how many healers their army would include. People sufficiently skilled with Order were rare. His mother had the gift, but Iko did not. I failed you in that regard, Mother. She never said it, but he knew she was disappointed by his inability to manipulate Order.
Iko removed his helmet and ran a hand through his damp hair. It felt good to let the chill morning air cool the sweat. Crossing the yard, he opened the door and climbed the stairs. The door to Sculdin’s office stood open. Inside the doorway was a travel-worn man, waiting while Sculdin read over a report.
Sculdin’s gaze flicked from the man in the doorway, to Iko, and back. “Thank you, Beadles. Go get some food and rest. I will share this news with the Archon.”
The messenger bowed and slipped past Iko.
“Your timing is good, Ikonis,” Sculdin said as he exited the room. “Follow me.”
Iko did as requested, following the captain while still clutching his sparring helmet under one arm. “What is this about?”
“You will find out in a moment.”
The man took a stairwell down to the main hall and approached the closed Council Chamber door, where two guards waited.
“Hello, Tarshall, Vlick,” Sculdin gave the guards a nod. “Is the Archon still in there with the Council?”
Tarshall nodded. “Yes, Captain. Both she and General Kardan.”
“Good. I have news to share with them all.”
Vlick glanced toward Tarshall and cleared his throat. “The Archon demanded they not be disturbed.”
Sculdin patted the man on the shoulder. “They will make an exception in this case.” Without waiting for a reply, Sculdin opened the door and led Iko in.
The Council Chamber was a rectangular room with arched windows along one side. Sunlight streamed in, the beams shining on the back of the four thrones nearest to the windows. On the room’s other side, four more thrones faced the windows. Each of those eight thrones was occupied by a wizened man dressed in a white cloak with blue trim. At the far end of the room, on a throne standing higher than the others, was Iko’s mother. As usual, she wore the white and gold marking her station. Opposite her, with his back to the door, was General Kardan in his dark blue uniform. Unlike the others, he sat in a simple chair with wooden arms and midnight blue cushions. The floor was a mosaic of blue tiles with a white Order rune at the room’s center.
The sound of the door opening stopped Councilman Vildardi in mid-sentence. All faces turned toward Sculdin as he strolled into the room, passed Kardan, and stopped atop the order rune.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Council member Ruelin demanded in outrage, his tone matching his expression.
“Give me a moment and I will explain.” Sculdin bowed toward Iko’s mother. “I apologize for the interruption, Archon. However, I have news most urgent to share with you and the Council.”
“I trust your judgement, Captain Sculdin,” Iko’s mother said. “Please continue.”
The captain, turned slowly, his eyes shifting from one face to another. All attention was focused on him. Scowls remained on some faces while others appeared intrigued to hear what the man had to say. None were prepared for what came next.
“We have lost Wayport.” The words hung in the air, lingering like the scent of spoiled meat. “A trio of my spies just arrived with the news. Chadwick is dead, and Wayport is again in the charge of our enemies.”
“What happened? Was there an assault by sea?” Kardan asked.
“There was no assault. The city was retaken by subterfuge. Chadwick was publicly hanged as a traitor, clearly an act intended as a message to any who might side with the Empire.”
“No assault? No siege?”
Sculdin shook his head. “None. In fact, my men believe Captain Sharene was the only casualty other than the duke and duchess.”
Iko’s mother spoke, drawing everyone’s attention. “Who could have pulled off such a gambit? It would require unspoken loyalty from the Wayport guard.”
The captain nodded. “You see to the heart of the issue, Archon. That brings me to my next piece of news, something perhaps more dire than losing Wayport.” Again, a heavy silence claimed the room and held it hostage.
With his jaw set firm, as if he were gathering resolve, Sculdin said, “King Brock lives. He now holds Wayport and the troops stationed there.”
Captain Jamison Sculdin knew his statement had taken the Empire leaders by surprise. Even Kardan’s face reflected shock at news. The plans the general had made counted on King Brock’s death and holding Wayport.
Sculdin noticed that Iko’s face had gone pale. After being sent to Kantar with the task of killing Brock, Iko had returned and reported his mission a success. In all the years Sculdin had known Iko, he had never known him to lie to his mother. He suspected Iko had honestly believed the king and prince dead.
Archon Varius leaned forward in her throne, her knuckles white as she gripped the ornately carved chair arms. “You know this for sure, Sculdin?”
“All three of my men reported the same thing, Archon. King Brock and his men disrupted a public hanging with thousands present. The men on the gibbet were King Dalwin and Parker Thanes.” His face darkened when he considered his next statement. “Brock and others were charged by Chaos.”
At the mention of the forbidden magic, the room fell silent.
Varius narrowed her eyes and leaned back in her throne. “Brock faked his death and waited to make his move.” Her nails continuously tapped the chair arm as she spoke, reasoning through the scenario. “The timing was perfect. He foiled a hanging but appeased the blood-thirsty crowd with another, all the while making it clear he would suffer no traitors.”
Unexpectedly, Iko asked, “What of Prince Broland? Is he alive as well?”
“Yes.”
Sculdin noticed a flicker of something cross Iko’s face, the expression seemingly one of relief.
“This changes everything.” Everyone turned toward Kardan as he stood and began to pace. “We were counting on holding Wayport to protect our army’s rear flank during our campaign to capture Fallbrandt. We dare not head north while Brock holds the city.”
The conclusion was the same Sculdin had come to when receiving the news. “Yes, General. We must alter our strategy. Wayport is critical to our success.”
Kardan said, “I have already sent word to Olvaria. While she is to continue patrolling the west coast, additional Ri Starian longships should arrive soon. With their help, we can plan a sea attack. If we time it right, a strike from land could overwhelm the city. With our superior numbers, Brock’s troops won’t be able to stand against a two-fronted assault backed by flash powder.” His face twisted, as if the words he was about to say were sour. “Not even with their dark magic.”
The room settled as the Council members looked at one another, most seeming unsure.
Varius spoke, her voice firm. “I agree.”
“Wait,” Councilmember Brighton stood and held his palms out in appeal. “Perhaps we should reconsider our course. Having Wayport fall into our laps was a huge stroke of luck and paved the way for a much less complex campaign.”
“True,” Council member Dorlan said. “We agreed to support this war based on our possession of superior weapons, a superior force, and a clear path to capturing Fallbrandt. Since then, much has changed.” The old man stood, wincing with his palm against his lower back as he straightened. “A quarter of our force was lost in taking Hipoint. Then, we discovered Corvichi destroyed, which sapped our flash powder reserves. Now, Wayport slips from our hands and into those of our archenemy.” He shook his head. “We must rethink this conquest.”
Varius stood with fists clenched at her sides, appearing ready to spit fire. “Do you think this is a game? Should we just walk away and forget that Chaos runs amok throughout Issalia? Do you believe Brock will be satisfied with Wayport after we tried to kill him?” The glare she aimed at Dorlan made the old man shrivel. “Despite a few setbacks, the Empire retains the upper hand. We will take Wayport back, and when we do, I’ll see Brock’s head on a pike.”
She stepped down from the dais and walked past Sculdin, not stopping until she was beside Kardan’s chair. “It is time for action, Leo. Send the troops. We must take Wayport back, and we must do so as soon as possible.”
Varius exited the room with Ikonis at her side, while the Council members frowned in concern. Dorlan glared at Brighton, both men appearing livid. Kardan, however, reflected resolve. He stood and motioned for Sculdin to follow. They had much to plan, more to do, and little time to waste.
As Sculdin exited the room, his hand went to his torso, his palm caressing the book hidden beneath his coat. The Council did not know of Budakis’ journal. Sculdin had made Iko promise to keep it a secret, even from his mother. Within the journal were the plans that would lead the Empire to victory. More importantly, the Empire’s victory would seal King Brock’s fate.
Iko hurried to keep pace with his mother. They soon arrived in her private chambers. The moment Iko closed the door, she began to swear. Iko said nothing.
He knew his mother well and expected her anger to cool rapidly. When it did, she sat heavily in her desk chair and held her hand to her forehead with her eyes closed. The silence was even more uncomfortable than her rant.
Iko cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I failed you, Mother.”
She lowered her hand and shook her head. “Do you really believe that is what I am angry about?”
“You gave me a task. I failed.”
“We have multiple reports that the royal quarters were destroyed in the explosion. You planted the bomb. You were with the king, the queen, and the prince in the room before you escaped. Everything you did conforms to your mission objective.” Her mouth twisted as if she tasted something sour. “However, Brock and Ashland…they are both sly and talented. Worse, they possess a magic we barely understand. You are not at fault in this. It was I who failed by not following through to verify the man’s death.”
Iko sighed in relief at not having her anger directed toward him. The feeling was compounded by the relief he felt from Broland surviving the blast. The prince’s death – his friend’s death – had been a crushing weight on Iko’s soul. Discovering Broland alive removed Iko’s shackles of guilt.
His mother turned toward the window, her expression contemplative. “Knowing Brock lives creates new questions, such as: Where was the man these past weeks? What will he do next?” She spoke softly, as if to herself. “His recapture of Wayport appears to have cost him nothing. That brings him closer to our borders and greatly alters his ability to defend both Kantaria and Fallbrandt.”
“I agree, Mother.” Iko didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t even sure she was speaking to him.
She spun about. “Enough about Brock. I will worry about him. You have your own role in this endeavor.”
“What do you wish of me, Mother?”
“I will remain in my chamber, or next door in Kardan’s office, for the remainder of the day. The floor is guarded, so there is little need for you to be held captive here.” She reclaimed the seat behind her desk. “Go see Sculdin. He has much to do and will likely have tasks for you.” The Archon dipped a pen into her inkwell and began drafting a letter.
Iko walked down the long corridor, passing Ydith, the guard on duty. She gave him the briefest of nods and continued in the opposite direction. He passed Quinn’s room and thought, Where are you, Quinn? Are you truly chasing a spy or have you abandoned us? Distracted by thoughts of Quinn, he soon stood before Sculdin’s door. His knock was met by silence. After waiting a minute, he lifted his fist to knock again when the door opened.
“Kardan.” Iko said, surprised to see the man in the doorway. “I’m sorry if I am interrupting. I came by to see if Sculdin needs anything from me.”
“Come in, Ikonis,” Kardan stepped aside. “I was just leaving.”
Iko entered to Sculdin bent over his table, writing notes on a map. The door closed, leaving Iko and Sculdin alone. Sculdin stood with a pen still in his hand. A drop of ink fell from it and landed on the tile floor in an oddly silent moment.
“The time for planning is over, Ikonis. We make our move immediately.”
“What do you need from me, Scully?”
“Prepare your things; you will soon hit the road.” The man set the pen down, circled the table, and stopped a stride away. “Commander Korbath and our cavalry are due to arrive from Sol Gier in a few days. You will join them and ride to the garrison outside Yarth with new orders from Kardan.”
“New orders?”
“Yes. Kardan is sending Captain Rorrick and the entire garrison west. They will begin a hard march to catch Mollis and Brillens, who are marching from Hipoint. We will take Wayport and then push north to Fallbrandt.”
When a tinge of fear arose, Iko swallowed it, set his jaw, and asked, “What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me.” Sculdin clapped a hand on Iko’s shoulder. “I have a part to play, but it’s better kept secret.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Iko turned to the door and left the room. He walked the corridor lost in thought, worried about the impending war while wondering how it had come to this end. Memories of his time at the Torreco Academy of Combat and Tactics resurfaced. A year had passed since he left the school – a year of growth and struggle and change. Things were simple and life was enjoyable back then – back when he had Quinn at his side. He longed for those days. Where have you gone, Quinn?