War Council

Outside the command tent, hooves clomped and wagons clattered, signaling the arrival of another company. Geram held up his hand, asking Velbaor to pause in his reading. Thirteen divisions so far, less than a quarter the troopers Fieldmarshal Henrik wanted for an assault, and it had been a week. Word could spread only so fast, and armies traveled slower than that. Two months ago, there were still enough discharged soldiers hanging around Narath that they could have gathered the necessary force, but now there was nothing to do but wait for the regiments to assemble.

Scouts estimated three hundred Kragnashians occupied the Manor. At least they hadn’t left it, come down Manor Hill, and overwhelmed the city. An army of Kragnashians falling upon Narath was the stuff of nightmares.

“Go on,” he said as the racket outside quieted.

Velbaor cast his eyes across the list of supplies, restudying the list of weapons at Geram’s request. When the Prime Minister reached the end of the page, Geram put his head in his hands. How many Lathans would die retaking the Manor, and could they block the Device once they’d won it back? If they won it?

“You are meeting with Elekia later?” the minister asked.

“What makes you ask that?”

“The head of state must sometimes act in ways the Prime Minister cannot,” Velbaor responded, “but he must be careful in his dealings with outlaws.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

That afternoon, a chill breeze gusted through the messernils as Geram climbed a steep slope, flanked by Drak and Fieldmarshal Henrik, a squad of twenty-four troopers surrounding them. They entered the ruins of an old fortress, once said to belong to a wizard, but now just a few piles of dressed stone atop a hill where Elekia and Olivet waited with half a dozen Caleisbahnin. The pirates’ feathers jerked and strained in the wind. Geram released Drak’s sight. He did not want to see her.

“Men?” Henrik asked, his mindvoice crisp in the darkness.

“Fifty-two seamen, all armed with steel,” Olivet replied formally. “And you have fewer than a thousand.”

“It takes time to gather troops,” Elekia said, “but I do not believe we can wait any longer.”

“Will any seamen be helping them?” Henrik asked.

Geram Heard Breon’s reply before the ambassador voiced it. “No. The entire embassy is sworn to the wizard.”

“Did you know about this ‘Treaty of the First’ beforehand?” Geram asked.

“We received no orders from the Archipelago, but even if we had, we are under Elekia’s command.”

“Tomorrow night, then,” Geram said.

“Tomorrow night,” Elekia responded, “in the dark of Elesendar.”

They fell silent, but calculations were loud in Geram’s mind. In a battle among humans, three to one would reckon them winners, but three thousand human troops to assail three hundred Desert People might not be enough.

“The Device.” Henrik broke the silence. “Can it be blocked?”

“The master Device is in Direiellene. It can only be stopped from that location.”

“Then we must destroy it,” Henrik replied grimly. “I’m sorry, Eminence, but the required amount of sulfa will bring down the Manor.”

Geram nodded. “Houses can be rebuilt.”

“Sulfa will have little effect, Fieldmarshal,” Elekia said. “People have tried before to destroy Devices and failed. We have no choice but to go to Direiellene.”

“That’s suicide!”

“Perhaps. But from the markings on the warriors who captured the Manor, I do not think the Center is behind this. I think the Center will help.”

“Madam,” Breon said, “if this is true, this rival faction has possession of the master Device or they would not be here.”

“They could easily have come using another Device,” Geram replied. “Vic learned there is more than one in Kragnash. I agree with Elekia. She and I have to go to Direiellene.”

“Eminence!” Henrik cried. “You cannot participate in this attack, much less go to Direiellene. We cannot risk it.”

“I’m a regent, Fieldmarshal, and a lot easier to replace than a Ruler or an Heir. As head of state, I have the authority to bargain with the Center.” He faced in Elekia’s direction. “Isn’t that correct?”

“Yes, Eminence. It is.”

“Then I will go. Tomorrow night, we attack.”