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“Our emissary has returned from Diyonus.” Krion’s frown told Shanis that the news was not good. “Until you hold the throne, they consider you just another rebel leader.”
Shanis looked at her grandfather, and then around the circle of clan chiefs, all of whom appeared on the verge of speaking. She already knew what each would say; they had discussed this many times.
Horgris cleared his throat and stood. “We understand you no want to keep fighting, and we do respect it, but this fight be inevitable. The rest of the world do see you the same way as the Diyonans.”
“As will our own people, eventually, if you do not seize the throne,” Krion added. “I know you do not want a return to clan war.”
Shanis held her silence for a few moments. Her instinct was to start raging about the injustice of it all and the stupidity of the Diyonans, the Malgog, the Monaghan, all of them, but she’d learned a few lessons about leadership, and one was not to lose control of your emotions where others could see you.
“Has Orbrad responded to our messages?” Orbrad currently sat on the throne in Karkwall, the capital of Lothan but ruled little more than his city and the surrounding area. Nonetheless, he was king if in name only. Shanis had sent messengers to him, pointing out that the clans were now united against him, and urging him to abdicate.
“Not directly,” Krion said. “Our spies have learned that the first messenger was locked up in the dungeon, where he soon died, and the second beheaded. Apparently, Orbrad wanted to send the head to you, but he has no idea where we are and he killed the only man who could tell him.”
“Orbrad do be a fool,” Culmatan of the Blue Stag clan rumbled. “How can he rule Lothan, and not know of Calmut?”
“There be a lot of things Orbrad don’t know,” Horgris chortled.
Shanis raised her voice to be heard above the laughter that rang out through the room. “Have you forgotten what I told you about the ice cats and the army my friends and I saw in the mountains? Remember what the seeker told us—there is reason to believe a new Frostmarch approaches.”
“All the more reason for us to unite our nation before it happens,” Krion said gently.
“Your grandfather be right, though,” Culmatan said. “The people do be getting impatient and we fear the peace will not hold. It is not just the little things, like the marriages and that witch school, but you do refuse to take back the lands in the east that the usurper holds. You must act.” The other chiefs nodded their agreement.
“Don’t start with me about the school. I’ve made my decision about that and it’s final. Besides, I’d like to see you try to dislodge the bone women now that they’ve settled in.”
“And more come every day,” Culmatan grumbled. “Calmut do be full of witches and even a few wizards. In any case, Karkwall matters most.”
“Understand, we are not hungry for war, but there are times war is necessary.” Regret hung heavy in Krion’s voice. “You must take Karkwall and claim the throne. Then, when the other nations recognize you as queen, we can see to the east, hopefully with allies at our backs. It is possible that, under those circumstances, Pedric Karst would see reason.”
“I doubt that.” Shanis knew enough about Pedric Karst to know he could hardly be called reasonable, and that he would not give up easily. She stood and walked slowly around the room, her eyes on the ceiling. The truth was, she had made her decision about Karkwall the previous night though it pained her. She could not, however, appear to make this decision in haste.
When she thought she’d held them in suspense long enough, she turned and faced the clan chiefs. Some looked at her in nervous anticipation, while others met her eyes with dull stares, assuming she’d continue to insist on peace.
“What do we have to do in order to take Karkwall?”
The chiefs all spoke at once, each with his own plan of attack. The chatter quieted when Krion raised his hand.
“Let us first review what we face: the strongest city walls in Gameryah protecting a fortified keep. The city is well provisioned so a siege would be a protracted affair.”
“It is the only way.” Labar, chief of the Mud Snake clan, rose to his feet. “Seal the city off, and pound the walls with siege engines until they fall.”
“And then face another siege at the keep,” Jayan, chief of the Red Water, replied. “They can hold out a long time. Orbrad is stubborn.”
“Do you have another suggestion?” Labar asked. “Besides, we have the Silver Serpent on our side.” He turned to Shanis. “Can you bring down the walls with it?”
“Possibly.” The truth was, Shanis had not tested the limits of the sword’s power. She used it for healing and little else, but she had no doubt it could be turned to destruction.
“Another reason we need to take Karkwall,” Krion said. “The library there might help us understand the extent of its power.”
Shanis sighed. “Very well. It is time to make preparations.” Shanis felt the burden of her decision settle upon her shoulders. She would be leading men and women to their deaths, the exact opposite of what she had hoped to accomplish, but she understood the reason. “I want each clan of the Monaghan, and only Monaghan, to leave behind a small force to protect Calmut and all of those who remain here. The city is being rebuilt and that is a fine thing. We cannot stop living every time we go to war.” A few of the Malgog chieftains protested, and she silenced them with sharp words. “We cannot fight a war on two fronts and Monaghans are less likely than Malgogs to take it upon themselves to reclaim the lands in the east from Karst. We shall see to him soon enough.”
They did not like it but saw the wisdom in her words. One by one, the chiefs left to prepare their forces to march.
“Grandfather, if you and Horgris would remain behind, I need to speak with you.” Shanis waited for the other chiefs to leave the room, and then called for Heztus to join her. The dwarf had been waiting outside with Granlor, who guarded the door.
“I’ve been thinking about my escape from Karkwall,” she began when they were all settled around a small table. Orbrad had imprisoned Shanis and her friends in the dungeons beneath the castle. They had escaped with help from members of the Order of the Fox, a group dedicated to the reunification of Lothan — a group of which Horgris was also a member. “Horgris, how much help can we count on from the inside?”
“I can no say.” The big man shifted in his seat and scratched his ample beard. “No one knows for certain how many members the order do have, nor who they are. I do have a few contacts within the city.”
“Grandfather, you said we have spies in Karkwall. Can we get more men inside?”
“We can try, but as soon as Orbrad finds out we are on the march, he will seal the city tight.”
“Which will make it all the more difficult to coordinate an attack with our people on the inside,” Heztus observed. “It will be difficult, if not impossible, to get word to them.”
“Not if some members of Horgris’ order are manning the walls.” She and the chieftain exchanged knowing looks. “We need to alert the members of the order, and our friends on the inside, to be ready.”
The others nodded. Shanis sent for bread, cheese, and wine, and began to outline her plan. It was going to be a long evening.