by Pirateaba
Zel Shivertail, the famous Lineholder, hero of two Antinium Wars and feeder of hungry Gnoll cubs everywhere, eyed Lady Magnolia sourly but relented. He nodded curtly and adopted a slightly more civil tone.
“I see. My apologies Lady Reinhart, but this is a critical issue. Your army might actually appear, scattered though it is, but the instant the first group of soldiers arrives they’ll want to have a place to camp, food to eat, orders—and if they don’t have them, it will take days to sort out the disaster that will unfold by the time all of them get there.”
Magnolia winced and sighed.
“I see. Well, you have my support and my staff has a direct line with every city and town on the continent. I suspect we’ll be waking up many from their sleep—”
“They don’t have aides or officers stationed around the clock for calls like these?”
The [General] stared incredulously at the Magnolia. She looked at Ressa, and her [Head Maid] shook her head.
“I’m afraid not. Perhaps some cities do, like Invrisil, but there are no laws and it’s very much dependent on the [Mayor] or whatever leadership is in place. Oh dear. I fear we do look rather bad compared to the Drake chain of command, don’t we?”
Zel took a deep breath. Yes, it was true. Humans were disorganized, at least, in general. Or maybe it was Drakes who were too organized and judged other species by too high a standard? Whatever the case, Zel had grown up in the south of Izril, where even in the smallest Drake city-states, there was a clear chain of command at all times, the lines of communication were always open, and there was always order, even if the orders were incredibly stupid. Whereas here…
He looked around. The pink drapes, purple couches, cream colored walls, and deep red-and-violet carpets in the room made him feel like he was sinking into some kind of primeval swamp. He wasn’t used to elegance, had no sense or vocabulary to describe the subtle colors around him, and really didn’t care for the richness of Magnolia Reinhart’s mansion. Oh, he could admit it was pretty in some ways, but her luxuriant lifestyle was at odds with his simpler outlook.
But here he was. A Drake [General] in a Human [Lady]’s mansion. A first, if you didn’t count stories of Drakes burning and destroying Human settlements during war. He was here in the name of peace, or rather, war for peace. He was her ally and she had invited him here, four hundred miles across the border that was marked by Liscor. And he had accepted.
The world might never be the same. Zel shivered at the thought. How many Drakes would call him a traitor once the news was out? How many Humans would be up in arms? But it had to be done. He was here, talking with one of the most dangerous Human women in existence because he needed her help and apparently, she needed his. To lead her armies, if nothing else.
But still, it was odd. Zel had had the most amazing of introductions to one of Lady Magnolia’s servants—Reynold—when the man had driven up to the gates of Celum, late by over half a day, his carriage practically drenched in Goblin blood. However, he’d given Zel a completely uneventful ride to Magnolia Reinhart’s estate, and she had welcomed Zel with open arms—as soon as she’d had her man Reynold pried from the driver’s seat. They had talked briefly, and Zel had jumped on the first issue he’d spotted.
Rudely, he supposed. Zel sighed. He knew this was not how you treated your allies, much less a [Lady], but he was uneasy being around Magnolia and he was a [General], not a [Diplomat]. Zel Shivertail tried to make his tail stop twitching and took stock of the situation again.
“Let’s go over this. You promised me an army. I thought you had one already, but apparently this one is comprised of levies from every city north of Invrisil. And you have delivered if all these [Messages] are to be believed.”
“I do believe they are. It isn’t rare for people to lie to me, but they seldom have the courage to commit it to writing.”
Magnolia inclined her head, smiling slightly and looking around for her tea cup. Zel grunted sourly.
“Well then, I’ll have an army at least forty thousand strong. But I have to warn you—it’s not going to be a good one. I’d rather have half again as many soldiers to take on the Goblin Lord.”
“Really? Why? I thought we had fine numbers. Or is it the quality of the soldiers you’re unhappy with? I can assure you they’re decent. Probably.”
Magnolia sat up with a frown. Zel sighed and shook his head. Civilians. He tried to explain patiently, as if he were talking to…Lyonette. Or Erin. Or Mrsha.
“You have the numbers Lady Reinhart, but that’s not an army. If I had ten thousand young men with swords, would you call that an army? And no, before you speak, it doesn’t matter if they’re all [Soldiers] because they’re all soldiers of different cities. They haven’t trained together, don’t necessarily know the same orders or fight the same way—and I don’t know how many officers there are.”
“And that’s a problem? You are a [General].”
“A [General] without a trained army is like a sharp mind and an unresponsive body, Miss Reinhart.”
“Ah. Oh, I do see now. Oh dear.”
Magnolia frowned. She wasn’t unintelligent, Zel could readily admit. She tapped at her lips and glanced at Zel.
“If it’s a matter of officers…I can see about levying some from more cities. Will that help, or will their unfamiliarity only exacerbate the issue?”
Zel shrugged.
“I don’t know. They could be useful…or not. I’m afraid I don’t know how well you Humans train your soldiers. I’ve seen good leadership and bad on the field of battle, but you don’t standardize your training.”
“While Drakes do. I am familiar with that. Your military chain of command is quite renowned across the world.”
The Drake grunted in response to the compliment. He looked over another sheaf of [Messages], speaking sourly.
“I’d give one of my claws for a few Drake [Lieutenants] or a battalion to fight with. A pity no Drake armies could cross north of Liscor without starting a war.”
“Hm. That’s very true. I did think about it, you know. But of all the mercenary groups in Izril—and there aren’t many—the only one of note was Liscor’s own army. And while they are for hire, I’m sure they wouldn’t respond to my requests and if they did…”
Zel looked up from the reports.
“No.”
“Indeed not.”
The [General] shook his head.
“That army is…not the kind you want if you value peace. I’m sure they’d manage to start a war if they came north. And given the uniqueness of their army, my Skills as a [General] would be least effective leading them.”
“That was my understanding. It is a pity though. They are formidable, for all of their detracting factors.”
Magnolia sighed. She found her teacup at last and wrestled with Ressa briefly before retrieving it. The [Head Maid] reluctantly filled her cup and Magnolia sipped it. She mused out loud.
“How does the saying go again? One Drake’s trouble, two is a fight, and three will burn your house down?”
She glanced at Zel swiftly, but the Drake didn’t react openly to her comment. He kept reading another report in silence and jotting down notes on another piece of parchment. After a minute he looked up.
“What are four Drakes, then?”
“A war, I believe.”
The [General] grunted. It wasn’t quite a laugh. Magnolia watched him cautiously and flicked her eyes up towards Ressa. The [Maid] shrugged and Magnolia pursed her lips. After another short break she spoke lightly but cautiously.
“We have not had a chance to speak long I’m afraid, Mister Shivertail.”
Zel didn’t react to being called Mister either. He turned one eye towards her and flicked his tail slightly.
“We didn’t. My apologies, but I decided to sort this out right away once I realized the issue.”
“Quite, quite. But ah, aside from our commitment to work together, you and I have quite a few issues we should discuss.”
“Really? It seems simple to me. You need a [General], I want to kill the Goblin Lord. And Az’kerash. Who you knew was alive for years and never did anything about.”
He claws tightened slightly on the parchment and Ressa tensed ever so slightly. Magnolia subtly leaned back to pat her friend on the leg and spoke.
“Yes. However, you never gave me a chance to explain my reasoning.”
Zel paused, and looked up. Two [Porters] paused with twin stacks of reports. He nodded approvingly and they hurried over to the table in front of him.
“Good. These are—organized? Excellent.”
The Drake blinked in surprise and began crossing off names on the list he’d compiled, checking estimated arrival times with each city and creating a master list, a big picture of his army for him to look at. He wasn’t good at this kind of work—it was the kind of thing he liked to let [Strategists] sort out—but he could do it in a pinch. He got a rhythm going before he addressed Magnolia again.
“Fine. Tell me why you let him live.”
“A few reasons spring to mind. To begin with, I’m embarrassed to say that I thought he was more of your people’s problems than mine and uninclined to start trouble so soon after the last Antinium War.”
Magnolia leaned forwards, speaking crisply despite the late hour. She gestured to the map of the continent that Zel was using as a reference on one of the tables.
“This was the same Necromancer who caused so much harm during the Second Antinium Wars and proved so difficult to defeat—and not even kill, it seems. I knew he must have lost nearly all his undead after his defeat, so I was content to let him go into hiding.”
“And replenish his forces? How long were you willing to wait? Until he appeared and started destroying Drake cities?”
“Hardly. I was more hoping that he would reappear and the Antinium, Drakes, and everyone else in the nearby vicinity would join up to destroy him. You do recall that he made rather fierce enemies of every species on the continent.”
“I do.”
“Yes, well, I decided he could be left alone for those reasons. Additionally—he may be powerful, but he is still only one [Necromancer]. The limits of his powers were rather neatly pointed out in the last Antinium War. He can raise a powerful army—one that can level cities and rout lesser armies true, but only one army of finite size. That’s not as grave a threat as six Antinium Hives or a Goblin King, is it?”
Zel caught himself nodding and stopped with a grimace. Magnolia smiled and went on, watching his reactions.
“Add that to a final consideration, General Shivertail. A [Necromancer] is a powerful mage, but specialized. He can raise armies, but not throw around spells that destroy armies by themselves. He is defined by his creations and while those creations can be terrible, they are linked to him. If the [Necromancer] dies, his army is leaderless, mana-less.”
The pieces clicked. Zel looked up as his brain switched over from corroborating reports to what Magnolia was saying.
“You were going to assassinate him.”
“Indeed.”
Magnolia smiled brightly and sipped at her tea cup. She reached out to grab a sugar cube—Ressa snatched the bowl away.
“My intention was always to kill Az’kerash. Sooner rather than later, but I knew I had only one opportunity, so I wanted to be sure, absolutely sure, of my success. That meant I had a short list of about six individuals who could do the job. I did consider asking an Archmage, but that could be tricky…the problem was that of the six, there were only two I could contract discreetly and be sure of. Neither one accepted my offers, and I did offer quite a lot.”
“Huh. That’s the problem with [Assassins], I suppose.”
Zel raised a magical quill and scribbled on his list, highlighting a discrepancy for later. Magnolia laughed.
“As a matter of fact, only one of the six I was considering for the job was an actual [Assassin]. I wanted the best, General Shivertail, and I don’t underestimate my foes. My first pick for the job would have been the infamous leader of the Forgotten Wing Company, Three-Color Stalker.”
The Drake looked up and his tail twitched in surprise.
“Her?”
“She is one of, if not the most deadly [Rogues] in existence. And she is more adept at slaying enemy [Commanders] on battlefields than most conventional [Assassins]. Who better to deal with a target that is functionally immune to poison and is no doubt warded with many magical artifacts?”
Magnolia swirled the tea around in her cup. It was minty, although you would never have known that with as much sugar as it held. She lifted her cup.
“Do excuse me, Ressa, but pass me the bowl of sugar or I’ll throw this at you. And I should ask again as a good host—would you like tea, General Shivertail? Something else? A snack, perhaps?”
Zel and Ressa both shuddered, having tasted Magnolia’s tea. The [General] was shaking his head and then paused. He looked up. He was in the mansion of one of the richest [Ladies] in the world, after all.
“If you have it…milk with honey.”
“Milk with honey?”
Magnolia blinked. Zel smiled.
“I recently developed a taste for it. Milk with honey, if you have it. Ashfire Bee honey to be precise. And if you have bacon or sausage, wrap it in dough and fry it a bit.”
“I’m sure my [Chef] can make that. Ressa, see to it, would you? That’s an intriguing dish. What is it called?”
Zel grinned to himself as Magnolia blinked at him, uncomprehending.
“Pigs in the blanket. It’s a Human dish.”
“Not one I know. Ressa? I want some too. Add lots of honey to my milk.”
The [Head Maid] had slipped out the door and whispered briefly with a servant stationed outside. She swiftly returned to Magnolia’s side. Zel eyed Ressa. She was wary of him and he could sense she wasn’t just someone who cleaned around the mansion. Well, whatever. He nodded at Magnolia.
“So Three-Color Stalker denied your request?”
Magnolia sighed loudly.
“I don’t believe she ever read it. She’s an odd individual. I sent her a number of cards and paid the [Couriers] to report back on how she received them. As I understand it, she ate two of them, gold leaf and all.”
“What?”
“That’s what I said. I’m not sure if it was an insult or just her personality. And she has never replied to me. Well, not in words. I believe after my sixteenth letter she sent me a message back by City Runner. I received a badly decomposed muffin that had been in transit for about six months. It had travelled across the sea by boat and was delivered to my house. I thought it was poison when I got it.”
“Huh. That is odd. I’d heard there was something weird about each of the leaders of the Four Great Companies, but…”
Zel frowned as he went back to his reports. A muffin? That was Baleros for you. War-loving freaks. Not that he could really speak as a Drake. He looked up as a thought struck him. It had to be asked.
“…What kind of muffin?”
“What kind?”
“Was it blueberry? Plain? Apple? Insect?”
Magnolia traded a swift glance with Ressa.
“You know, I didn’t think to…that could be a clue. Or something. If Commander Foliana—Ressa? Make a note. Find out if anyone recalls what the muffin looked like.”
“Yes, milady.”
Zel eyed the [Head Maid] as she bowed slightly. He coughed.
“That’s an interesting maid you employ, Miss Reinhart.”
Magnolia laughed.
“Oh, Ressa? Don’t mind her glaring. She is protective of me. And nagging.”
“And armed.”
The [General]’s calm look made Ressa shift, and the impassive woman’s face hardened a bit. Magnolia stopped smiling and glanced at Zel.
“She is my protector, General. Rest assured I didn’t invite you here to kill you. I’d like to think I’m a bit smarter than that.”
“It never crossed my mind.�
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Zel lied as he worked his way down the first stack of papers. He glanced at Magnolia and Ressa again and decided to ask another one of the questions that was on his mind.
“Very well. Say you’ve convinced me your intentions were good around the Necromancer. That still doesn’t explain why you wanted me, a Drake, to lead your army against the Goblin Lord. You have capable leaders in the north. Why not let your famous Lord Tyrion Veltras handle the Goblins?”
Magnolia’s face went sour at Tyrion’s name and Zel recalled too late that the Five Families weren’t exactly enamored with each other. He cursed internally. Human politics. Even at his best, he could barely stay aware of what went on in Drake lands.
“I don’t want to give that idiot a chance to shine, General Shivertail. Moreover, I don’t want a [General] for a few weeks or even a year. I had hoped you would see the long-term benefits of working together.”
“So your letter hinted. And what exactly did you have in mind?”
“Well…”
Magnolia sat up and was about to launch into her carefully-planned speech at last when a knock sounded on the door. She slumped and Ressa scowled at the unlucky interrupter.
“Enter.”
“Your pardons, Lady Reinhart.”
“Reynold?”
Magnolia sat up and Zel turned as Reynold stepped through the door. The [Butler] was wearing a new, pristine suit and his hair had been combed. More to the point, all of his wounds had been healed and he was no longer drenched in blood. He bowed to Magnolia and Zel as a [Maid] stood at his side. Sacra, or as Laken would have known her, Odveig, bowed as well, her eyes flicking to Zel and then to her mistress.
“Reynold, I thought you were asleep! You should be resting—thank you for running over those Goblins, by the way. I received a missive from Wales that you had saved quite a number of people by buying them time, but really! You should be asleep!”
The Lady Reinhart wavered between scolding and praising Reynold by turns. He bowed crisply and spoke carefully, keeping his eyes on Zel as the [General] appraised him and Sacra.
