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Nyomae placed her cloak around Elodi’s shoulders. The Great Hall had emptied of all but Lord Kernlow who sat staring at the floor where the Castellan had fallen. Nyomae spoke softly. ‘You did well to resist, Elodi. There are few who can withstand such a confrontation.’

Elodi shivered. ‘Fortunately, you came when you did. I was about to… to surrender myself to his will.’ The warlock’s promise echoed in her mind. ‘I must admit I was tempted and came close to joining our enemy.’ Her eyes stayed on her clenched hands. ‘How is that possible?’

Nyomae rubbed Elodi’s back. ‘That is the way of their words. But I do not think it was as close as you fear. When the warlock touched your blade it kindled the Amayan Fire. Had I not intervened, I suspect it would have saved you.’

Elodi lifted her head. ‘The blue lightning?’

She nodded. ‘Amayan Fire. I sensed it the moment it blazed. It also stirred something within me. And thankfully so. How could the will of a warlock pass through our walls without my knowledge? And now the cause for the unrest in the city becomes apparent. Let us hope it will ease with his departure.’

Lord Kernlow found his voice and stuttered. ‘A… a warlock you say?’

Nyomae stood. ‘It was a kruul, the will, or mind of a warlock. Had the foul creature’s vessel entered Archonholm it would have been a very different outcome.’ She looked to Elodi. ‘Have you recovered?’

Elodi threw off the cloak. ‘I’ve had long enough.’

‘Good. You are stronger than you think. The encounter has served to strengthen you, and the warlock has learned you are a formidable adversary.’

‘Then I hope you’re right. The kruul was terrifying. I would not willingly face one in the flesh.’ She turned to Kernlow and took a deep breath. ‘Are you ready to talk, Lord? We have much to discuss.’

He muttered. ‘We do indeed, Elodi, we do indeed.’

Nyomae took back her cloak. ‘Then I shall leave you and attend to the Castellan’s body. While I cared not for the man, I shall rid him of the warlock’s stain before he’s laid to rest.’

Kernlow sagged into his chair as the door closed. His voice croaked, speaking to himself. ‘Why did I not suspect Nordryn’s treachery?’ He stared at the flagstones charred by the warlock’s departure. ‘And the Castellan. The poor chap. Just like the Archon.’

Elodi moved to his side and sat. ‘Then let us be thankful that thing has gone. But we cannot sit back and rest.’

Kernlow turned to her. His mouth gaped. ‘I had no idea our predicament was quite so… so precarious. While we’ve had our setbacks with the actions of the Archon, and then that nasty business with the dead rising in the pass, I still thought we were secure, at least for the summer. But now you tell me of Nordryn’s treason, and then… this warlock. This changes everything.’

‘Setbacks? Lord, I hardly think…’ she bit her tongue. ‘If I could make a suggestion?’

He waved his hand. ‘Please, go on.’

Elodi straightened. ‘The Castellan had too much control over who addressed the Council, even before his possession. I have been trying to arrange a meeting with you for weeks, but he stalled every effort, hence the nature of my entrance, and the Castellan’s… exit.’

Kernlow’s chuckle surprised Elodi. ‘I admit for a moment, when you burst in wielding your sword, I was a little apprehensive.’ He leaned on his elbows. ‘But now we find ourselves without a Castellan, and at a most inconvenient time.’ His brow creased, sending a trickle of sweat down his face.

‘May I make another suggestion, Lord?’ Kernlow nodded. ‘There is a very knowledgeable and clever man already in your employ. He is an Archonian veteran and therefore no stranger to a sword. His name is Marrick, an advisor to the Farrand Council on matters of the realm. He would make an excellent appointment as Castellan and… perhaps also your advisor. I have spoken to him on numerous occasions and found him to be most capable.’

Kernlow looked up. ‘I do recall meeting with this Marrick fellow. But must admit I’d not seen him of late until he came in just now. Thought the poor chap had been taken ill.’ The lord clicked his fingers. ‘Then it’s done. As you rate him so highly, I shall appoint him as the new Castellan and my advisor.’

‘An excellent choice, my lord. But we have more pressing matters to discuss.’

‘Yes, of course. The situation in the north I presume. Ah!’ The old lord perked up. ‘I may not have been as idle as you think, Elodi.’ He pointed behind to a giant tapestry. ‘Jolly good idea to commission that beauty of a map, eh. It was for my hall at Kirik, but seeing as I’m now entrenched in Archonholm, I had it brought here.’

Elodi took a breath. ‘I had noticed it, Lord. Who could fail to be impressed by such a decorative representation of the Five Realms.’

Kernlow beamed. ‘I had thirty-four master weavers in Gwelayn working on it for months.’

Elodi gaped. ‘Thirty-four?’

‘The very best, Elodi.’

She eyed the lavish map. ‘I doubt we have more than twenty in the whole of Harlyn.’

He thrust his fat thumb at the wall. ‘And all worth it. Makes strategic planning easier having this here, eh, don’t you think?’

‘Yes, Lord. It is a fine map, one I’m sure will help our situation immensely.’

‘Good. Glad we can agree on something. Now, how about you put it to good use and tell me what you think we should do.’

Elodi stared at the tapestry. All these weeks she had waited impatiently to address Kernlow and his Council, and now she alone had his eyes and ears, she was determined not to waste the opportunity. Elodi strode to the wall. The large map was woven with so much thread, the Kolossos Mountains stood proud from the neighboring realms, even casting a shadow to the west. And now she saw the realms in such detail, the evolving plan in her head took shape. Elodi stood on her toes and stretched up to reach the part of the realms she saw as vital to their cause.

‘Elodi. Please.’ Kernlow grinned. ‘Do make use of that pointer.’ She noted an elaborate device on a stand beneath the tapestry. A golden hand with its forefinger extended sat on the end of a long, ash handle. The lord chortled. ‘Well, I could hardly have a plain stick for such a fine map.’

‘Err… no, I suppose not.’ She picked up the pointer and ran it from west to east over the bump of the mountains. ‘It’s imperative we hold the line here, and not only to secure the forests of Ormsk and the fertile plains of Noor. As I see it, the Kolossos Pass is key. And I believe our enemy are only too aware of its importance. While we hold the territory either side, we can deploy reinforcements rapidly through the gap depending on need.’ She traced the pointer south. ‘But we’ll be hugely disadvantaged if our enemy push us back and take command of the pass. It would allow them to allocate their forces either side of the range to exploit our weaknesses. So, for that reason, I propose we send the stockpile of Shreek’s Rage north… immediately.’

‘The black powder? Are you sure?’ Kernlow shuddered. ‘As we’ve learned to great cost, it is extremely destructive.’

‘Precisely, Lord. But it can be handled with care. Then if it becomes apparent the pass will be lost, we can block the exit to the east. It may at least delay their plans for a week or two and give us more time to muster.’ She pointed to the port at Keld. ‘And what if Nordryn is building ships for our enemy?’

Kernlow blustered. ‘But… but the Ruuk are not known for their readiness to sail, are they?’

‘That’s exactly what we thought before they rowed into Calerdorn’s harbor. These are not the Ruuk we have had the misfortune to encounter in the past. They are led by the ruthless Ul-dalak and warlocks. And it is not just the Ruuk clans they command. They grow more powerful every day and summon the creatures of old to their cause. And, if they gain access to the vast supplies of the hardy wood in Ormsk, their ships will circumvent our lines to land raiding parties at’ — her eyes slid down the east coast — ‘perhaps as far south as the Ravenlode Estuary.’ She looked to the Elessyn Sea. ‘And what if they land at West Haven? Imagine the disruption they could inflict on the farmlands of Tamarand. We would need to deplete the line in the north to push them out. We’d find ourselves fighting on multiple fronts in the east, west and as far south as Farrand. All on terms dictated by them. The Ruuk could attack both the rear of our defensive line or choose to push onto Archonholm.’

Kernlow’s face paled once more as his detailed map now brought the harsh reality clearly into view. ‘Oh my… oh dear, and I thought we could sit tight in Archonholm, strengthening our position to eventually let them fail here before we pushed back their weakened forces.’

Elodi turned back to the table. ‘No, Lord. I don’t think that is a feasible strategy. We can no longer sit out this conflict here. I made that error in Calerdorn. Until now, we have allowed the enemy to hold the upper hand. It is they who make all the moves, leaving us to respond in haste. But they are always one step ahead. They force us to commit to one region, while they have plans to attack another. We saw what happened when Uluriel brought the bulk of our forces to the gate.’ Elodi replaced the pointer on its stand and returned to the table. ‘It’s time we took the initiative. We must turn this about and make them question their strategy. And we can only do this by putting their front under pressure.’

Kernlow looked back to his tapestry. His eyes flitted about the map, looking unsure of where to settle. ‘Then where… where should I start? Do I lead a force up the east… or the west? And who do I take? Guards on foot would slow our progress, but then knights alone are not suitable for skirmishes. How would—?’

‘Lord Kernlow.’ Elodi held up her hand. She formed her question carefully. ‘Do you think you are… the right person to lead such a mission?’

He looked taken aback. ‘But… but of course. As the Steward it is my responsibility, my duty no less.’ The lord pushed his chair back and tried to stand. ‘My good lady, I’ve waited all my life for this very moment. This is the time for strength and an iron will, one that won’t bend in the face of adversity.’

Elodi watched as the lord gave up the battle to stand. He landed with a bump and a groan. She lowered her voice. ‘I am aware you served with distinction in the skirmishes of the north, Lord. But what experience do you have of leading an army into open battle?’

Kernlow recovered his breath from his exertion. ‘Well, I… I have much experience of… let me see.’ He stroked his chin as his gaze rose to the ceiling. His finger shot up. ‘Ah! Of course. I once captured a clan leader in Nordruuk. Ha! Now that was a mission and a half. Under the cover of darkness, I led a dozen—’

‘That sounds a feat worthy of a good story for another time perhaps. But have you led a force of greater than a few dozen?’

His cheeks puffed out. ‘Yes. Why of course. I led at least forty men against some ruffians stealing wine from one of our finest vineyards back in the day. Then there was an occasion—’

‘And how long ago did these exploits take place, Lord?’

Kernlow’s brow creased. ‘Now there’s a question. Well… let me see, I must have been in my twenties, no, early thirties.’ He straightened. ‘You should have seen me in my prime, Elodi. There wasn’t a rider in the whole of the realm who could beat me in a joust, and when it came to the hand-to-hand business, well—’

Elodi could not prevent the sigh escaping her lips. ‘And how many years have passed since you were in your early thirties?’

His large frame deflated. ‘Gosh. It must be almost forty… no, more than forty years now I come to think of it.’ His head dropped. ‘Too many… too long ago.’

‘And when did you last ride a horse at a pace faster than a trot, Lord?’

Kernlow kept his eyes on the table. ‘That may also have been more than a few years back.’ He looked up. ‘But I’m sure I could still manage a canter, with some practice.’ He stroked his chin. ‘Ah, but that wouldn’t suffice in battle. I could hardly lead a charge at a canter.’ A tear formed in his eye. He stared at the door to the Great Hall. ‘I’m old, Elodi, too old for anything more than a ceremonial role. It seems my best days are behind me… well behind me.’ His chin dropped. He whispered. ‘My inaction could cost the realms dear. What was I thinking? I should never have taken on this role.’

Elodi looked at a man who had finally come to terms with his age. She felt his pain and pitied him. ‘You have served the Realms for many years, the people of Kernlow love you and speak very highly of you. But perhaps it’s time to… to step aside.’

Kernlow nodded, clenching his jaw, trying in vain to stem the tears. ‘You’re right, my dear. I should retire to my vineyard and see out my days tending to my grapes.’

Elodi placed her hand on his. ‘But that would be a loss, my lord. I’m certain with all your experience you will be an excellent orator for the forces when we need to raise morale.’

His eyebrows raised. ‘Do you think?’ He clapped his hands. ‘Ah, yes! Of course, if there’s one thing I can still do well, it’s rouse the troops with a good speech.’

She patted his shoulder. ‘And there is still the issue of the day-to-day running of Archonholm. You have managed the realm of Kernlow longer than any living ruler. We cannot afford for all that experience to be lost at the moment of our greatest need.’

‘That is also true. I may be old and’ — he jiggled his belly — ‘getting a little too plump for my horse’s back, but I can ensure the smooth running of the realms.’

‘That you can, Lord. You have achieved wonders with the clearing of the pass and laying the dead to rest with dignity.’

Kernlow took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face. ‘Yes… yes, that I have.’ He frowned. ‘And that’s something we need to accelerate if our foe tries to pull another dastardly stunt and pitch our dead against us.’

‘Indeed, my lord.’ Elodi judged the time was right to play her last hand. ‘But if you’re to take on the extra responsibility of delivering your excellent speeches, as well as managing the affairs of the realms… would you consider appointing me as the head of our forces?’ She held her breath.

‘Hmmm.’ His lips pursed. ‘That would make sense. But an important position such as that would have to be put to the members of the Council. And I expect some of my generals may have issues with that.’

Elodi leaned forward. ‘But you have emergency powers, my lord. You can sign a decree that none can dispute. If you appoint me head of our armies, I will report to you and be under your command. I shall take full responsibility for all matters concerning the deployment of our forces, but you would ultimately have the final say.’

Kernlow thought for a moment. He slapped his leg. ‘Very well, Lady Harlyn. I like the sound of your plan.’ He beamed, appearing to lose ten years as the weight of command lifted from his shoulders.

‘Thank you, my lord. I shall not let you down.’ Elodi edged forward. ‘And that decree, my lord?’

‘Regarding my position as head of our forces. It’s imperative you forgo existing procedures to save time. A Steward’s Decree will signal your intent to take control of the predicament we find ourselves in. And it will help give the people of Archonholm confidence, my lord, to see you take such decisive action.’

‘Ah yes! Of course. I’ll ask my new advisor’ — he winked — ‘Marrick, to issue it immediately. I shall leave you to determine our strategy and tactics, just as long as you run your plans past me first, eh.’ He scratched his head. ‘But help me here, Lady Harlyn. Would I still be Steward?’

‘Yes, my lord. You remain as the Steward of Archonholm at this most vital time to oversee the affairs of the realms. And may I suggest you allow more trade between the wards, and ensure crops can be harvested and transported to the mills and stores. You have done this for Kernlow for decades. That, in my mind, makes you the ideal person for such an important role. After all, a hungry soldier can’t be expected to march the length of the land and then be in a fit state to fight.’

He rubbed his chin. ‘Ah. I see. Yet surely, the chief priority for our survival is the forces you now command. Is there any way I could assist there, Elodi?’

She grinned. ‘But of course, my lord. Don’t forget I shall be needing your expertise to deliver those important morale-boosting speeches.’

Elodi closed the door to her quarters and leaned against it. She slid down to the floor, exhausted by her eventful day. Was Nyomae right? Could she have resisted the warlock had Nyomae not intervened? She took some comfort that she had survived the encounter unscathed. And now she had experienced the Amayan Fire, but would it come at her command?

Her hand went to her face. Elodi felt as she had the night before leading the raid into Durran Wood. That involved a few hundred, but now many thousands of lives were in her hands. What had she taken on? In the Great Hall she was convinced of her objective, but Kernlow’s decree had elevated her to a position not even her father could have envisaged.

Elodi looked across the room she had occupied on her first visit to Archonholm. At the time it had seemed such a fine chamber for one so young, and it had made her feel important. Today, its grandeur seemed extravagant, a symbol of past glory that the realms could no longer afford in what could be its last days. Would its contents be ransacked, and the walls daubed with the same cruel words she had seen on the stone at the gate?

The knock at the door startled her. Elodi gathered her composure to open it. Toryn stood outside. He attempted to smile. ‘I hear you have met a warlock. It seems events are moving at a pace. Nyomae believes I am ready.’ He sighed. ‘I leave tomorrow.’