24. BORDER TOWN
Jarith’s story
The imperial camp near Stonegate Pass
After Tyentso left the Capital City
When Jarith found the Empress of Quur, she was in the middle of leaving the Capital, yelling orders at soldiers, secretaries, and councillors. The woman was so sharp in tone it seemed impossible that people wouldn’t leave her presence bleeding. Jarith felt the tension vibrating off everyone who came into her presence. She looked the same as when Jarith had seen her last—the center of a swirling tornado of magical energy and furious negative emotions.
But at least her ability to sense his demonic nature seemed to be limited to her ability to physically see him. As long as he remained invisible, she didn’t know he was there. Still, he had the impression that if she really concentrated on an area, she’d sense him. Thus his existence became an extended game of ducking behind people, columns, and furniture, trying to stay out of the woman’s direct line of sight. In theory, she knew about him. In theory, Kihrin had filled her in. In reality?
Caution would be prudent.
Jarith’s father, Qoran, traveled with her. The man was uneasy, but the high general stoically kept a straight face and followed her every order. Everyone did. Jarith wondered if any of them stopped and wondered at how the empress was suddenly commanding such complete and total loyalty.
Seeing the troops gathered was a truly awe-inspiring sight; Jarith would have been moved had this happened only a few months earlier. It was all the more extraordinary because it was illegal. The imperial army had its command quarters stationed in the Upper Circle, but armies were not allowed to gather there. Clearly, no one had explained that to Empress Tyentso, or if they had, she’d ignored them. Now there were thousands of men gathered in neat rows, equipment slung and ready to travel by gate to their next destination—Khorvesh.
The soldiers all had a uniformity to them that was odd even for Quuros soldiers, normally renowned for the consistency of their training. It wasn’t their appearance but rather their expressions—identical sneers lined every face for as far as Jarith could see. All of them radiated that same anger and rage, the same focus and dedication to their goals.
These were thousands of men who’d throw their lives away if Tyentso so much as snapped her fingers, and given all the challenges since she’d gained the Crown, Jarith didn’t think she’d refuse such an opportunity.
He followed the column of men through a portal, noting as he did that clearly not all the wizards capable of opening portals had gone with Havar D’Aramarin when he’d left to splinter off his own segment of the empire. Which was handy, because nobody wanted the long march through hot desert that would have otherwise been required to reach Stonegate Pass.
When they arrived, the troops made camp outside the town, and Tyentso called a meeting.
“Do we have intelligence on the nearest troop movements?” she asked the team of generals gathered in her tent.
Blank stares met her question.
“Troop movements?” Qoran Milligreest asked. “You mean the morgage?”
Tyentso rolled her eyes. “Of course I mean the morgage. Do you think Vol Karoth suddenly has troops?”
“I’m not sure I’d claim the morgage do either,” one of the other men muttered. He was new, someone who’d been stationed here at Stonegate rather than someone who’d come in through the gate with the others.
Tyentso turned to him. “What was that?” Her voice had a warning edge to it.
The man cleared his throat and stood taller. “Your Majesty, the morgage are here, it’s true, but they’re hardly invading.”
Tyentso seemed distinctly unimpressed with that explanation. “Are they inside the Quuros borders?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Then they’re invading,” Tyentso snapped. “Or they will be just as soon as they realize that the only way they’re going to find food is by stealing what little the Khorveshans have. We need to crush them before that happens.”
Most of the men fell into immediate and vocal agreement, but that newcomer grimaced. “Your Majesty, they’re refugees. They brought their women and children.”
Tyentso stared at him flatly. “What’s your name?”
He looked nervous. Not so difficult to understand why, considering the angry looks the other men at the table were throwing in his direction. “Fosrin, Your Majesty,” he said.
“Well, Fosrin, try to remember that this isn’t the real threat. The real threat is what’s going on in Marakor right now. But we can only be expected to fight on so many fronts. There’s a chance that if we smash the morgage immediately—smash them hard—that we’ll scatter them so completely that we’ll have the breathing room we need to concentrate on that real problem. Also, morgage women are warriors—and wizards too. Don’t underestimate them just because of their sex. Are we understood?”
The man was at least smart enough to understand the possibility that his survival might depend on how he answered, so he nodded and without a trace of reluctance said, “Your will be done, Your Majesty.”
Tyentso studied the man as if deciding whether it was worth it to enact some more lasting punitive action, and if so for what reason. Finally, she waved him back.
“As I was saying. I want the morgage gone from Quuros lands. Then we can concentrate on Marakor.”
Jarith slipped out before she finished her meeting. He’d heard enough.