“Spoken like someone too young to have fought them in the war,” the dour general—Kree Nu—growled. “Their ingenuity isn’t anything we need to claim the dais.”
“We, General?” Zirabo asked lightly, but there was a dangerous edge to his voice, one Yanko hadn’t heard before. He was glad to see Zirabo with these men around him, truly ready to march on the capital. Or what remained of it. “Are you going to stand upon it with the new Great Chief?”
“Behind it, I should think. I have no desire for that position. If I did, I would have done what’s popular these days and started my own faction.” Kree Nu curled his lip and spat on the ground.
“Good. Yanko, Dak, I will be pleased to hear what Turgonian ingenuity has to suggest.”
“I have some explosives left.” Dak’s eye glinted.
“Turg gorilla,” Kree Nu muttered under his breath.
Dak ignored him. Yanko glared at him, losing some of his ingrained respect for his elder and having the urge to light his uniform on fire from the underwear out.
Tynlee snorted—or was that a snicker? Yanko scowled, not annoyed with her, but irked that his mind remained an open book for her. He wondered if he would ever become good enough to keep his thoughts from talented mind mages.
Kree Nu’s gaze shifted from Dak to Yanko, but he didn’t hold their gazes for long. He looked over at the tent wall and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Dak’s explosives are lovely,” Tynlee said. “I say this not just because I helped him acquire his current stash. I’m certain he could sneak in with a couple of men and place them in strategic locations near enemy strongholds and cause distractions during a critical moment.”
Yanko nodded. “I could keep anyone from noticing him.”
“I can remain unnoticed by myself when I wish,” Dak said.
Yanko hadn’t meant to imply he couldn’t, only that he wanted to help. He opened his mouth to say as much, but Zirabo spoke first.
“You’ll be walking with me at the front of our army, Yanko,” he said. “Noticeably.”
“Ah.” Yanko was surprised Zirabo hadn’t found a more powerful and experienced mage among the prisoners. Maybe he simply wanted someone in a red robe next to him to make an appealing target for enemy archers. By now, Yanko had plenty of practice deflecting arrows. So long as mind mages weren’t simultaneously assaulting his brain. He grimaced because that seemed a very real possibility if some enemy spotted him early and had time to plan.
“Your people would be disappointed by anything else,” Zirabo added, smiling as he looked into Yanko’s eyes.
“My, uhm, people?”
“The prisoners you freed—” Zirabo extended a hand toward Jhali, Dak, and Tynlee, thankfully acknowledging that they’d been integral in that mission, “—have been telling everyone about the powerful warrior-mage hero who obliterated an ancient evil artifact, utterly destroyed a towering soul construct, and suborned the infamous pirate Snake Heart and turned her to his will. The prisoners are sharing the news eagerly, and it’s spread across the Great Land like wildfire.”
Yanko opened his mouth, but no words came out. What was he supposed to say to such ludicrousness? Nobody else was saying anything. The officers didn’t look surprised—maybe Zirabo had already mentioned all of this to them—but they did look skeptical.
“You obliterated that artifact?” Dak asked into the silence, amusement in his voice.
“I cut the cables.”
“Impressive.”
“They were magical cables.”
Yanko didn’t mention how that particular act had been what brought a ceiling down on his head, nor did he bring up how Dak had rescued him from that rockfall and carried him over his shoulder to safety. He would have admitted those things to Zirabo, but he felt self-conscious under the weight of the officers’ gazes.
“Honored Prince,” Yanko said slowly, since nobody else was speaking, “you of all people know I haven’t suborned Pey Lu.” He was about to add that she hadn’t even been willing to loom threateningly at the Turgonians for him, but Zirabo spoke first again.
“Isn’t she in the harbor now with her fleet? And you clearly brought shiploads of other pirates over to your side as well, correct?” Zirabo waved toward the city.
“Conditionally. I need to speak with you about what I promised them for their assistance.”
“Thousands of ounces of gold from the palace’s coffers, no doubt,” General Kree Nu said.
“No, I already have gold. I promised them pardons and land on the new continent.”
The bald general with the sense of humor laughed. Yanko wasn’t sure if it was with him, at him, or just at the craziness of the whole situation.
“You have gold?” the more belligerent Kree Nu demanded.
“Yes, did I not mention that? We brought back some samples. The Turgonians were already on the continent mining it, but we convinced them to leave, at least for now. I’ve promised their General Aldercrest that we’ll be along to negotiate with their president for a long-term solution that will leave both of our nations with opportunities down there. Uhm, Jhali?” Yanko pointed to her pack, relieved he’d thought to return to the yacht to retrieve it before coming out. “Will you show them?”
Jhali slid off the heavy pack and extracted one of the gold bars he’d made. She thunked it down on the desk, the tendons in her neck standing out as she maneuvered it, a testament to its weight.
“We have a few more bars like that,” Yanko said, not able to read Zirabo’s expression as he gazed down at the gold. “It’s just hard to carry them all.”
Zirabo leaned back as much as he could on a stool, then looked to his chosen officers, holding each of their gazes for a moment. “Well, gentlemen. What do you think?”
“He’s a boy who’s wearing a robe he shouldn’t be and has stumbled into some luck,” Kree Nu snarled.
Admiral Oleen, Dom Joo, and the general who hadn’t spoken yet, also bald with a wizened face that reminded Yanko of his great uncle, merely looked thoughtfully at Yanko.
What were they deliberating? Whether he was worthy enough to join them on the march? If he should be held accountable for the crimes he’d inadvertently committed? If he should be tied to a lizard cart and dragged down a mountain for presuming to wear his robe? Clearly, Kree Nu knew he’d failed his Stargrind entrance exam.
Yanko was tempted to poke into their minds, but he feared he would be caught. Just because they wore military uniforms didn’t mean that none of them had mage training. To have reached such lofty ranks, it was likely they all had mage training and came from honored families.
General Dom Joo stroked his chin as he regarded Yanko. “I believe, Honored Prince, that it doesn’t matter what we think. The people are desperately in need of a hero, and they have decided, without any input from us or the other powers vying for the dais, that this is he.” He extended his hand toward Yanko.
“He’s not even old enough to shave,” Kree Nu barked.
Yanko spread his arms, not willing to argue, even if people across the nation seemed inordinately concerned with his chin hair. The idea of being anyone’s hero was bewildering, but he wasn’t sure why it mattered enough to mention. Unless Zirabo had a plan to use Yanko’s new fame—could he call it that?—to help his candidate.
Yanko realized he still didn’t know who Zirabo’s candidate was.
He almost asked right there, but what if the officers believed Zirabo intended to put himself forward? They may have joined him because they believed one of the Great Chief’s children had the most right to rule. Maybe Zirabo had changed his mind and actually did intend to put himself forward.
That would be fine with Yanko. Zirabo had plenty of experience with government, and he had a good relationship with Turgonia. Few of the other prospects could say that. And selfishly, Yanko admitted it would be a lot easier for him to get himself assigned to overseeing the new continent, an opportunity that would allow him to make good on his word to all tho
se pirates, if Zirabo was in charge.
“Yanko is a good man,” Zirabo said. “Honest, earnest, self-effacing, and passionate about helping the nation. We are lucky to have him.”
Yanko bowed his head, as was proper when an elder delivered a compliment, but he watched the others out of the tops of his eyes, still trying to figure out what exactly was going on and why they were discussing him.
The generals and admiral continued to look at him with dubious expressions. Yanko caught Tynlee and Dak exchanging long looks and wondered what that meant.
“Let’s secure the Great City first,” Admiral Oleen said, “and then worry about the rest of this.” He jerked a hand toward Yanko.
Yanko was relieved when Zirabo nodded, set his flute case aside, and spread out a map of the city.
“I’ve recruited scouts from among the moksu who were imprisoned, those with military experience.” Zirabo looked up at Yanko. “Falcon is one of them.”
“Is his leg better?” Yanko asked.
“I found him a healer. He may still have a limp for life, but it wasn’t impeding him the last I saw. The scouts have been checking the fifty miles in all directions around the capital.” Zirabo drew a circle around the city with his finger, including the water. “I wanted to make sure nobody had an army lying in wait before we committed to taking the Great City. Our people spotted other people’s scouts, perhaps checking for the same thing, but no companies of troops, not outside the walls.”
“Most of the factions are spread thin, trying to hold the cities and resources they’ve claimed,” Kree Nu said.
“There are two factions with large numbers of troops inside the city. They’ve been fighting each other. There are scouts from other factions who are watching them, likely thinking as we thought—” Zirabo nodded to Yanko, “—to let them wear themselves out on each other and deplete their men and resources, and then swoop in and take advantage.”
Yanko didn’t feel qualified to speak in this meeting of high-ranking officers, but Zirabo kept including him, so he risked saying, “We sailed past the Great City about… four, five weeks ago, I guess it’s been now. There were huge fires burning all over, with ships aflame in the harbor. It looked like there wouldn’t be much left for long. I imagine it’s only gotten worse? Are we planning to take the capital for symbolic purposes? Would it make sense to leave it and focus on the other major port cities along the coast?”
“We’ve considered that and discussed it,” Zirabo said, speaking over Kree Nu, who’d probably been about to tell Yanko to stay quiet because he was too young to talk. “The Great City isn’t in good shape, though it’s not much worse now than what you describe. You may have seen an initial burst of activity. My understanding is the factions entrenched themselves in different quarters and have largely been playing cat-and-mouse games of late rather than lighting fires.”
“They shouldn’t be wantonly burning buildings,” Kree Nu said, “not if they want to claim the city for themselves and for it to be worth anything. Likely, some fire mages got out of control one night.” He gave Yanko a flat look.
Yanko didn’t know if he was pleased or regretful that he hadn’t incinerated the general’s uniform earlier.
“It’s worth taking the city,” Zirabo said. “There’s also the fact that we don’t have enough troops to split them between the other major cities. The capital is symbolic. If we have it and the palace and the public dais, then we have a lot.”
“You’re set on marching in openly?” Dom Joo asked.
Dak stirred. He hadn’t been invited to speak and hadn’t volunteered much, but Yanko was curious what he thought.
“We have thousands of people out there.” Zirabo waved to the valley beyond the tent walls. “We can’t sneak them into the city, especially not now. According to our scouts, there aren’t any farm wagons or trade goods or much of anything going through the gates. Rather than trying, I say we gather our mages to create shields to protect our people and march them straight up the highway and to the main gate. I expect pushback as we enter and try to take the palace, but that would happen regardless. They’ll have it secured.”
“Who?” Yanko asked. “The Swift Wolves?”
He assumed that was one of the factions that had come out on top, but Zirabo had mentioned another.
“Yes, and Sun Dragon’s people,” Zirabo said.
Yanko rocked back, at first imagining Jaikon Sun Dragon, that he’d somehow faked his death and found a way back to Nuria to lay claim to the dais, but no, these would be his relatives. He remembered the mage admitting that another Sun Dragon was leading the faction and making a push for the dais. Yanko wouldn’t have guessed they had a large enough force to rival the Wolves. Dak hadn’t mentioned them when they had been discussing that map of flags in the tavern in Yellow Delta.
“The Sun Dragons have come on strong in the last month,” Zirabo said. “They were originally focused on the western provinces far from the capital, but they may have simply been biding their time. They’ve come east and currently control the harbor and more than half of the Great City. With the legendary Akaron Sun Dragon as an ancestor, Luy Hano has quickly gained supporters out here. He’s a powerful mage in his own right.”
Yanko hoped that wasn’t why Zirabo wanted him here so badly. To be the one to face off against this Luy Hano? Maybe Zirabo thought that since he’d defeated Jaikon Sun Dragon, he could defeat his relative. Except that a magma spout had been what truly defeated Jaikon.
“Prince Zirabo,” Dak said. “It’s your prerogative if you want to walk openly into the city.” His tone made it sound like he didn’t approve—Yanko wasn’t surprised. “But I strongly suggest you send some people ahead to prepare a few diversions, to get your enemies looking the other way as you bring your main force in.”
Yanko nodded. “And we can have the pirate fleet sail into the harbor up there, time it to arrive the same night we will. Even if they don’t engage, their presence will get everybody looking in that direction.”
“Pirate fleet,” Admiral Oleen growled.
Zirabo smiled faintly at him. “Yanko’s brought in more ships than we have.”
“They won’t fight to the death for the good of the nation,” the admiral said, lifting his chin.
“Likely not, but our enemies don’t need to know that.” Zirabo looked to Dak. “Do you have something specific to propose as far as diversions go?”
Dak hesitated. Yanko imagined him thinking that this wasn’t his fight, and he wasn’t sure how much leeway his government would give him to help. He looked at Yanko. Yanko looked back, but he didn’t try to convey an opinion one way or another. He didn’t want to get Dak into trouble. More trouble.
Tynlee patted his arm supportively, the gesture seeming to say it was his decision.
“I’ll break away from the main group when we get close,” Dak said. “I’ll take some explosives and sneak into the city. If I can find a clockmaker’s shop, I can create detonators on time delays that will go off precisely at midnight or whatever time we decide. If they blow all together, that ought to give your enemies something else to worry about.”
“Aren’t we trying not to do more damage to the city?” Kree Nu asked Zirabo. “If you let a Turgonian run around with bombs, he’ll blow up the museums and cultural centers.”
“I’ve seen Nurian art,” Dak said. “You wouldn’t be losing much.”
Kree Nu’s eyebrows flew up. “You dare say that? Turgonians don’t even bother with art. They can barely—”
“Enough,” Yanko said, attempting to infuse his voice with the power to sway the general, even if he knew it wouldn’t work with Dak. “We shouldn’t snub our allies, General. Honored Prince, can you use Dak?”
Zirabo smiled. “Yes, of course.”
Is that meeting as tedious as I’m guessing? Pey Lu spoke into Yanko’s mind without preamble.
Yanko didn’t want to speak poorly of his seniors, so all he said was, Do you want to join us? We’re pla
nning a strategy to take the Great City.
No, I suffered through enough meetings with pompous self-important senior officers when I served in the navy. Just tell me when we sail. I care little for the politics of Nuria, as you know, but I’m tired of watching the nation self-destruct from a distance. I will, with great glee, throw fireballs down the gullets of those idiots bumbling through this civil war.
“Yanko?” Zirabo prompted.
“Sorry,” Yanko said, hoping he hadn’t missed much. “Captain Pey Lu spoke to me. She reports she’s ready to sail anytime.”
“I’ll bet,” Oleen said. “Are we truly going to rely on those pirates?”
Zirabo shook his head. “As I said, we’ll assume they’ll only go as far as showing up. If our enemies can’t be sure if they’ll attack or not, they’ll have to divert resources to the waterfront in the event they do. And if Snake Heart were to jump into the fray…” Zirabo raised his eyebrows at Yanko, as if not certain if he should hope for that or not.
Yanko wasn’t certain if they should hope for it. He could imagine his mother torching half the city as easily as he could imagine her striking in a pinpoint fashion to secure it for Zirabo and his team.
“She said she was ready to hurl some fireballs at our enemies,” Yanko said neutrally.
“Good,” Zirabo said. “Good. Let’s adjourn for now. Generals, get your troops ready to march in the morning. Admiral, you may want to get your ships there before the pirates arrive, so leave tonight.”
Yanko hadn’t seen any military ships when they had sailed into the harbor. He wondered where Oleen’s vessels were and how many he had.
Three, Pey Lu spoke dryly into Yanko’s mind. They’re hiding two miles up the river, before the water gets shallow.
“It should take two days to reach the capital on foot,” Zirabo continued, “so we’ll plan to march into the city the night after tomorrow.”
Great Chief (Chains of Honor, Book 4) Page 23
