Each morning in the streets of Delseroy, puddles were still frozen and the cobblestones were covered in a thin layer of ice. Healers were overrun with patients with sprained ankles and fractured wrists. The city guards had been forced to organize street sweepers to grit even the lower city streets to prevent serious injuries. Those who had to brave the cold did so with heavy jackets and walked with eyes cast to the ground, anxious to avoid the slippery patches. Varren walked briskly, casting a heat spell to melt the ice in his path. He held a small decorated box in his hand, containing several important documents needing his immediate attention. He had made journeys to Delseroy’s trading office multiple times over the past few days, awaiting the arrival of this very box. Now that it was finally here, he would know the complete numbers of men and ships he could expect from Monreith.
The hilly kingdom to the west had signed a truce with the Ayon Empire one hundred and fifty years previously and had been an important ally, politically and economically, ever since. Discussions had recently commenced between King Samian and King Marn of Monreith about strengthening their alliance even further. By incorporating Monreith into the Ayon Empire, as Samian proposed, he would give them protection and support in any endeavor in return for their manpower in the current war.
“I have sent my most gifted ambassadors,” King Samian had told Varren, “and I’m confident that they will succeed in persuading my cousin of the advantages of my proposal.”
“Distant cousin,” Varren had reminded him. “Just remember that many still hold grudges for the bitter war before the truce.”
“Perhaps, but I have offered him a consulship. He will retain all his current wealth and power, but with one condition.”
“And that is?”
“That he will report back to me on all important matters of state. He will retain his status as ruler but under my jurisdiction. I will recognize his sons as his successors but should they think to introduce laws contrary to our best interests, then I shall be forced to veto their implementation.”
“And this scheme is of your own design?” Varren had asked, raising his eyebrows. “I’m impressed.”
“Perhaps you should be proud instead,” Samian had said, smiling. “After all, you did teach me everything I know.”
The ambassadors had now been in the capital of Monreith, Myia’Suene, for a considerable amount of time. That could only mean that King Marn was taking the proposal seriously and might just agree to it. Marn had already promised Varren twenty thousand men, but with the discussions still taking place, he dearly hoped the documents he held would reveal that Marn would pledge even more.
He crossed the upper city courtyard and was admitted through the castle perimeter gates. The guards bowed as he passed and muttered, “Lord General.” Varren was still getting used to the title. Though he relished the power of his new position, he still wished the king had thought to promote one of the captains instead. He preferred to battle with magic rather than his sword, though he was very capable. Whenever he had a moment to spare away from his duties at court, he busied himself toning his muscles and experimenting with binding magic and steel. So far, he had had mixed results.
“Archis, at last!”
Varren glanced up and saw the king standing on the balcony above the castle doors.
“I’ve been looking for you. Meet me in my library, would you?” The king turned on his heel and disappeared inside. Varren sighed, and tightened his grip on the box.
Samian welcomed him into his personal library a little while later and, after firmly closing the door, the king offered Varren one of two grand chairs in front of the fireplace. Varren glanced at the fire and flicked his wrist lazily, causing the flames to grow stronger and warmer.
Samian chuckled. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were reading my mind, Archis.”
“Never, sir, of course.”
The king laughed and gave Varren a friendly punch on the arm. Varren took the strike with forced good humor and sat, placing the box on his lap.
“Something important?” Samian asked, nodding to the box.
“I hope so,” Varren said. “I just received it from the trading office.”
“News from Marn? Open it.”
Varren flicked open the box’s decorative clasps. Inside, the wood was lined with silk. The two documents within were sealed with red wax. Without saying a word, Varren removed the documents, placed the box aside, then broke the seals. He read in silence but was aware of the king watching him expectantly.
“The first is for you, I believe,” Varren said, handing over the document. “An update from your ambassadors regarding your proposal.”
King Samian accepted it eagerly and read with his eyes wide. Varren returned his gaze to the second and more important of the two documents. It was a detailed description of each and every unit King Marn intended to send to Delseroy. He smiled and lowered the report, feeling better than he had for weeks.
“I don’t believe it!” Samian exclaimed. “The discussions have been going on for weeks now and all they have to report is that King Marn is still deliberating! Look.” The king pointed to a passage in the letter. “Talks have, as of yet, been inconclusive, but I assure His Majesty that progress is being made. What is that supposed to mean? Progress? I can see no evidence of it!”
“Perhaps, then, you should listen to what I have to report,” Varren said, crossing his legs comfortably.
“Go on, then,” King Samian said impatiently, his anger subsiding.
“Before your proposal, King Marn promised us twenty thousand men from across his nation, which was a generous offer. Now, after you have initiated talks regarding a more permanent alliance, it seems he is more willing to involve his nation in the war. See, he now promises thirty thousand men. He has already started sending infantry and cavalry but says his siege machines will take longer to construct and prepare for safe travel.”
Samian was stunned. Varren could not help but chuckle, for it was not often that the king was rendered speechless.
“Well, Your Majesty, would you consider that good news?”
Samian grinned and a short laugh burst from his lips. “The best I’ve heard in months!”
Archis Varren nodded his agreement and folded the second document before replacing both inside the box. Even if King Marn was understandably reluctant to surrender complete autonomy of his nation, he was more than willing to send his men to aid his ally. Thirty thousand men would boost the Ayon army to a size that could outnumber the Ronnesian force three to one, and he was still waiting on some of his promised units from the far east of Turgyl, which would increase the army’s capacity to almost one hundred thousand men. His smile widened at the thought of having sufficient strength to finally eliminate the Ronnesians.
“I believe I was right in placing you as general,” the king said, rising from his chair. “Ever since you took over command, our force has doubled in size. Not to mention the fact you managed to track down Tirk and bring him to justice.”
“I still have to decide how to deal with Mayor Challan,” Varren admitted, ignoring the praise. “I don’t wish to stoop down to their level by assassinating him, but his death has long been desired.”
“Would Queen Sorcha exile him if she knew what he had done?”
“I’m not sure,” Varren said. “She might wish to brush off the matter.”
“Then go to Te’Roek. If he squeals, record his every word and take a testament to the queen. Monitor what she does.”
“And if she does nothing, even with his confession?”
King Samian thought for a moment, his brow furrowed. In that instant, he looked unexpectedly like his father. Varren watched him closely, his own mind working. Yes, if he could force Queen Sorcha to banish one of her most trusted advisers, that would shake the city even more than finding the mayor dead.
“If she doesn’t act,” the king said, “let it be known that crime in the Ronnesian Empire no longer carries any consequences.”
He turned to Varren and their eyes met. For a moment, Varren thought his master was joking but very quickly realized otherwise. The king’s mind was growing more cunning as the weeks progressed. He was fast becoming a great politician like his father.
“It would certainly test their faith in their queen,” Varren said.
“My thoughts exactly. After her deception over my marriage proposal, I have been waiting to take a small act of revenge. Riots, pandemonium and mass crime in the capital will give her something to think about. I’m sure you know what to do, Archis.”
Varren nodded and turned to leave.
“Remember that Challan was the one responsible for Carter’s death,” Samian added. “Don’t be afraid to hurt him, physically or mentally. I want that man scared to death of you by this evening. Understood?”
Varren grinned. “It will be my pleasure, Your Majesty.’