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For a week, Rohesia had felt the noose tightening. Not that Broderick’s army had made any grand assaults. The battlelines only shifted by a street here, an alley there. But this quiet inching made the situation feel unbearable. Worse yet, all the scouting and spying the Sigor army engaged in, led to no new information or plan of attack. This morning, though, Intira and Robert Tynsdale would be joining her with an update on what they knew. If anyone could provide new intelligence, it would be these two.
When the two of them entered her study, Rohesia almost gasped. Robert still looked sharp and neat, if a little care-worn. Intira, on the other hand, looked like she hadn’t slept in a week. Yes, that was, unfortunately, a common complaint of many people around the Bocburg, but she had never expected for it to befall a woman as elegant and resilient as Domina Stylianos.
Rohesia could not say Intira’s hair was falling out of its coiffure, because she didn’t think it had ever been up. Her clothes appeared to have been slept in. And her dark skin had taken on an ashen tone. Now that Rohesia stopped to think, she could not recall the last time she had seen Intira. Perhaps she had spent the past few days on duty, grabbing brief naps in her clothes in Earstien only knew what sorts of places.
“Your majesty,” Robert said with his usual flourishing bow.
“Your majesty,” Intira added with a very half-hearted curtsy. “I would love to engage in more formalities, but if I don’t sit down, I may fall down.”
“Of course. Please, take a seat.” Rohesia came from behind her desk to join them at the small table, Intira foregoing all usual decorum and slouching in her chair, legs stretched out before her. Rohesia wanted to shout, “Where in Earstien’s name have you been?” but instead politely cleared her throat. “Should I ask for some coffee to be brought?”
“No need,” Intira answered. “As soon as we finish here, I am going to collapse in my bed for the rest of the day. At least.”
“A wise choice. I do not mean to be rude, but you do look rather done in.”
Intira snorted. “Oh, I can well imagine what I look like, even if I haven’t been near a mirror. ‘Done in’ is the politest way you could put it.”
“Then let us get directly to your report,” Rohesia said. “What news of the enemy?”
“Well, Robert says he has told you the latest about Broderick’s troop numbers and the imminent arrival of Lukas Ostensen and his reinforcements.” Intira paused to take a deep breath. “Which means I can go ahead and get to the other bad news.”
Rohesia didn’t know why she expected anything other than bad news at this point, but somehow she had hoped Intira would have something positive to report. “I suppose you better had. So, what has gone wrong?”
“Our contact in Broderick’s camp is gone.”
“What do you mean, precisely?”
“Broderick realized that he was giving us information. He had to leave immediately or face death. I helped him escape, and he is now on his way to his family.”
Rohesia nodded. This would be a blow. She had never asked for specifics about this mysterious source in the usurper’s camp, but Intira and Robert trusted his information, which had proven quite useful on several occasions. Yes, this would be a blow, indeed, but she also had another question.
“Is it not dangerous for us that this man is now at large? He knows a great deal about our forces, and he knows the two of you are our most highly placed intelligence agents. What might he not say about us to save himself from torture and death if Broderick should catch up with him?”
“It is a risk, your majesty,” Robert answered. “But one I agree with. I believe he will be able to evade
Broderick, and he did do us a great service for quite a while.”
“And the Immani made him a promise to keep him and his family safe years ago. It’s why I followed him once he left Robert’s last meeting. I was afraid Broderick was getting close, in which case, it was my duty on behalf of the emperor to save him.”
Rohesia could not help raising an eyebrow. “You let a man go, helped him, in fact, even though it might be dangerous to us, simply because the Empire made him a promise? You will forgive my skepticism, but I have rarely seen the Empire do something not in its own self-interest, merely because a promise was made.”
Intira chuckled at this. “I can see your point, but in this case, the Empire decided to keep its word.”
“Well, I guess I will have to continue trusting that the two of you know what you are doing,” said Rohesia. “What next?”
“More traditional scouting,” Robert answered. “I already have some men out, checking the Gramiren lines.”
“Very well then.” Rohesia rose. Robert popped quickly to his feet, but Intira was a bit slower. “Thank you for your report. I am off to a meeting of the ladies bandaging society. Please get some well-earned rest, Domina.”
“Yes, your majesty,” she answered, nearly sagging back onto her chair as she tried to curtsy.
***
THE FIRST OF MAY WAS usually a time for celebration, for welcoming the new life brought by spring. But all that had been brought to Leornian of late was bad news. Therefore, it surprised Rohesia not a bit when a grim-faced Sir Walter Davies tapped on her sitting room door early on May 1 while she was still finishing her meager breakfast of bread and aging cheese. He shuffled his feet and avoided her gaze, so she prepared herself for the worst.
“Yes, Sir Walter? Am I needed?”
He bowed low, but awkwardly. “Yes, your majesty, if you do not mind. Sir Alfred and Lord Caedmon desire your presence in Leofe Tower.”
The only reason for this request was because they must have something for her to see. She dabbed her fingers on a napkin and stood. “Very well.”
Leofe Tower, with its glass walls, left little for Sir Alfred and Caedmon to tell her by the time she reached
the observation floor at the top. The number of enemy soldiers had grown dramatically. Since she had no military experience, she could not trust her own estimates of large numbers of soldiers. Within sight of the tower, however, she guessed Broderick now had half again as many troops today as he’d had the day before, when he had already outnumbered Sigor forces significantly.
“Lord Aldred. Sir Alfred,” she said upon reaching the top. They turned and bowed to her and she joined them in peering across the southern expanse of the city to the land beyond. The streets were incredibly difficult to see in detail, but beyond the collapsed southern wall, nothing but Gramiren troops
covered the land as far as she could see. “I take it Duke Lukas and his reinforcements arrived in the night.”
“They did, your majesty,” said Caedmon, a deep frown expressing everything.
“It is as we were told by our previous informant,” Alfred went on, pointing at banners in the distance. “There’s Halvor Ingridsson, the Duke’s natural son. And next to him, the Earl of Kinnaird and Baron Roydon. And, well, pretty much all of the major Haydonshire and Severnshire nobles who did not already have men here or on the western front in Dunkelshire.”
Rohesia nodded, since there was very little else she could do. “Do we have any indication of when they intend to attack? I must admit that all of my reading has not prepared me to know the signs of a force this large moving into position.”
“Lord Aldred, I will defer to your greater experience here,” answered Alfred.
“You defer, but as you and I were discussing the issue before her majesty arrived, I well know you understand the situation.” Caedmon paused, scowled once more out the window, and then directly addressed Rohesia. “They are moving into position even now. But with the size of the force and the complications of city warfare, I would say we have two days, perhaps three, before they are entirely
ready.”
Two days before everything came crashing down. “Ought we allow them to get ready? Shouldn’t we take some initiative now?”
“A very reasonable question, your majesty,” Caedmon answered, and she appreciated that he did not sound placating as he said it. “But one of the few advantages we have is our position, so we do not want to strike out and risk losing any ground. Also, time allows Professor Sobol to manufacture more of his machines.”
Rohesia had many more questions—when should they begin moving civilians to more secure locations, food allotments, and on and on—but then she heard Edwin’s voice emanating up the stairs. She could not quite make out his words, but then Lawrence’s voice answered him. And then Duke Robert. Yes, it was time for everyone to see this, she realized.
“I will fight him,” Edwin now said clearly. His small body then appeared at the top of the stairs, his thin
chest heaving from the exertion of the climb. “I will lead my troops into battle.”
“Earstien help us,” the duke whispered when he finally had a clear view of his city.
The duke’s reaction caught the attention of both Edwin and Lawrence. When they paused to contemplate the view, now focusing on the city instead of their conversation and the climb, they fell silent. Lawrence looked ashen, but the set of his jaw was defiant, nonetheless. Edwin, though, after closing his gaping mouth, returned to his previous argument.
“Men fight better when their king leads them. You told me so, Uncle Lawrence. My evil Cousin Broderick will lead his troops.”
“He is not a man worth emulating, your majesty,” said Duke Robert. Clearly, he wished to be polite and not inform a 11-year-old boy he must let others fight his battle, but obviously, it was what they were all thinking.
“Your majesty, if I may,” Caedmon offered, taking a step toward Edwin. “I have counseled many kings. Some have been at the head of their troops, it is true. But just as many have understood that their presence is more important elsewhere. Your own father, for instance, remained at court where he might better administrate the war. I believe if you remain here in the Bocburg during the battle, you will be able to rally those who aid the soldiers, and that is a most important duty.”
“I don’t know. My father did not win that war, you know.”
“Yes, it was something of a draw,” Caedmon said. “Also, I cannot go into battle, and I would feel much better if I could be near you.”
Rohesia hoped Edwin would accept this, perhaps even be flattered. But while he was still working his way through the problem, Lawrence blurted out, “If the city falls, you have to live to fight another day. Caedmon can spirit you away somewhere. I will stay and die for the family.”
“I am not certain this morose turn is for the good,” Rohesia said, smiling at each of them in turn. “Let us focus on the plan to save the most lives in defense of this beautiful city and remarkable castle as possible.”
“Hear, hear,” piped up Duke Robert. “Alfred, let me show you a section of the city I was thinking about last night.”
The two of them moved over to the window. Edwin still appeared confused and Lawrence fatalistic. Caedmon merely looked more grim than usual. Rohesia wearily took a seat and began to pray.
***
CAEDMON HAD LEFT ROHESIA about half an hour earlier, just as the sun was setting. Jorunn had answered the bird he had finally sent the day before. She agreed not to fight openly if both he and Intira promised to play no role. Intira had bristled at this request, and Caedmon pointed out that their defensive spells and alarms might already violate Jorunn’s demand.
“I have no hope Jorunn will remain in the rear tomorrow,” he said with a sigh. And so he had taken Intira and Robert Tynsdale on another round of the city. Rohesia had to trust that Caedmon knew what he was doing, and would not be once more checking his spells if he felt it to be a waste of time. She, however, found no comfort in his actions.
Her room had grown nearly black when a knock come on her door. She had invited Lawrence to join her for a drink, so she expected him when she answered, “Come in.” Lawrence, though was not alone—he had Presley, Grigory, and a truly distraught Sir Alfred with him. None of them, in point of fact, looked comfortable, and she set about pouring wine and setting them at their ease.
Taking in Alfred’s glum expression, Rohesia rather wished Elwyn had joined them as well. But at supper, she had overheard Elwyn arranging with Kyle Llamu for a gathering of their set. After Elwyn had left, Countess Margaret, Kyle’s mother, had promised that they would not be getting up to their usual shenanigans. Rohesia assumed they all had better sense than that. What really disappointed her was that Elwyn showed no desire to see Sir Alfred that night.
After the battle, Rohesia decided, she would put her foot down with Elwyn. That was usually not a tactic that worked well with her stepdaughter, but Rohesia really had reached her limit with the girl. No, not a “girl,” a woman. The time had come for Elwyn to stop behaving like a child.
Yes, Presley had been painfully right when he had pointed out that many people had shown Rohesia an exceptional amount of patience when she was making her decision to marry Edgar. But that conversation with Presley had been months ago. It was time for Elwyn to decide. Sir Alfred deserved no less.
What would Edgar have made of his daughter’s behavior? Rohesia had never discussed Elwyn much with him. She always made him awkward in a way his other children never did. Perhaps it stemmed from his discomfort at how similar they were. They had the same prickly nature. They shared the same disdain for etiquette and protocol. They both blamed themselves for everything that went wrong. But Rohesia could never have pointed out those things to Edgar. Probably the only person who could have managed that would have been old Duke Brandon.
“Something has made you smile,” Presley said, and it took Rohesia a moment to realize he was speaking to her.
“I suppose I am smiling. I was thinking of Duke Brandon.”
“He was truly the best of them all,” Presley said, raising his glass. “To Duke Brandon.”
Everyone followed suit, and they drank in silence, but with the first hint of warmth.
“He saw the best in people, whoever they were,” Grigory said with a rueful smile.
“Which is why it says so much about Broderick that he was the one person Duke Brandon ever really hated,” Presley said.
“It does, indeed,” Rohesia added, swirling her wine. “Edgar said Brandon even liked Queen Merewyn, in spite of knowing the things she was guilty of.”
“Tomorrow, we will face Broderick,” Lawrence announced, almost with his old bravado. “I have great hopes of driving him back. Your machines are going to change the way war is fought, Grigory.”
Naturally, Grigory blushed and Presley beamed. In the end, they had made five of his crossbow machines. One protected the square leading to the Redwald Bridge at the eastern edge of the city, as well as other squares leading to the grain reserves and the palace. They had been forced to leave the Aldred Bridge on the downriver end of Leornian undefended by one, though. At the final council meeting when Caedmon had been informed of this, he noted with a rueful smile “his family bridge” might be the first to fall.
“They truly are the most remarkable things I have ever seen,” said Alfred. “You have a mind for mechanics to make the greatest Annenstruker professor jealous.”
“You are all too kind. But they have not been tested in battle yet. Tell me at the end of the day tomorrow if they are that good.”
“If nothing else, they have given us hope,” Alfred said. “And in these moments, a man needs to believe his efforts will be worth something.”
“To hope,” Rohesia said, raising her glass.
“To hope,” they echoed and drank.