“If you’ll pardon me, my lord, unprovoked is a matter of opinion,” Darius replied coolly. He had practiced this debate in his head so many times it was almost like reading off a script. “According to our most reliable spies, the Crell army has doubled in size during the last five years and tripled in size since the end of the last war. Even now their forces march across the borders of Talisham in the southeast.”
Lord Margrove snorted. “If the Sovereigns wish to bring down the Pah, that’s hardly our concern. Let our enemies grind each other into dust.”
“You’ll forgive me for saying so, my lord, but that is a very naïve and dangerous view. I have no sympathy for the Pah, but the Talishites have always served as an effective counterbalance against Crell incursions. If the Imperium conquers Talisham and removes the threat on its flank, we will see an even larger surge of troops along our border.”
“You’re getting ahead of yourself as usual, general,” Alistan said with a dismissive wave. “The Crell haven’t conquered Talisham yet, and recent reports suggest that hostilities might have even stalled completely. You’re not going to convince anyone here with your scare tactics.”
Miraculously, Darius managed not to glare at the old man. When it came right down to it, Alistan was probably his staunchest enemy here. He hated the Crell as much as anyone, but his lands in the north had suffered greatly during the last war. The more recent Serogar Gate fiasco hadn’t helped matters, either; one of his most important towns had been completely annihilated by demons, and he blamed the Alliance military for failing to protect his people.
The other councilors held similar views, if for entirely different reasons. Margrove hailed from the east, and as a result his lands had been nearly untouched during the fighting. But his position as a provincial lord was always being tested by the local merchant cartels and trade guilds, and he knew a war would almost assuredly cost him his position. Savilen, for her part, was simply a traditionalist. She firmly believed in Solaria’s core principles—purity of heart, freedom of body, and equality of law—which meant that while she despised the Sovereigns and their tyrannical rule, she also refused to “sully herself” with a preemptive attack. In some ways, her righteous naivety made her the most dangerous councilor of all.
There were others who opposed Darius, of course, and only a few who were sympathetic. But that latter group had been unwilling to take much of a chance for fear of political consequences, and he didn’t expect anything to change today.
“There is also the outstanding issue of the Galvian resistance movement,” he said. “My sources tell me that they have once again rebuilt and established a power center in Lyebel, in addition to several smaller outposts. In the last two months, they have launched at least a half dozen successful skirmish attacks on Crell garrisons or convoys.”
“And a week ago they captured an arms convoy bent for the Kurden Pass,” Lord Tamas interjected. As the leader of Darius’s province, he was the general’s biggest supporter. “We didn’t even know about the shipment, but if it had made it through, our military positions at the pass might have been compromised—further evidence the Sovereigns are solidifying their borders in strategic locations.”
“I sympathize with the Galvians,” High Priest Kaeldar said, instantly drawing everyone’s attention, “but the last two times a resistance has organized, the Crell exterminated them quite efficiently. There’s nothing to suggest this time will play out any differently.”
Most of the other lords nodded in agreement, and Darius repressed a sigh. As the King’s Voice, Kaeldar spoke for His Majesty in all matters—Areekan hadn’t shown himself publically in years. Like most Ascendants, he spent the bulk of his life buried beneath this tower in his own personal fortress-chamber.
“With General Moore dead, we aren’t sure who is leading the rabble this time,” Savilen put in. “Let alone if we can trust them.” “
It might be his son,” Margrove suggested. “I’ve heard rumors that the Crell have been hunting him.”
“It doesn’t matter if it’s his bloody ghost,” Alistan snapped, “the point is that whatever resistance they assemble will be crushed in a matter of weeks. The Voice is quite correct—offering support for a doomed resistance is futile.”
“That is not what I said, Jonathan,” Kaeldar replied patiently. “I am simply not willing to allocate resources to something we know so little about.”
“Frankly, that has been my major problem with this line of discussion,” Margrove interjected. “For months we’ve debated this situation, and yet our intelligence is sorely lacking. Why have our assets in the Imperium been so silent?”
“They have provided us a great deal of information,” Darius assured the man. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for the entire meeting, and it was time to pounce. “But you are right: we are operating with immense blind spots right now.”
Tamas grunted. “I suggested this two weeks ago. No one seemed particularly interested in listening then.”
“I believe your suggestion, Lord Tamas, involved the covert removal of several Crell military leaders operating at the border,” Lady Savilen pointed out. “Not exactly the same thing.”
“Enough,” Alistan said sharply. “This is pointless. The issue the General has brought before us has, once again, been rejected. The Solarian Alliance does not attack without provocation. I fail to see why we are still discussing it.”
“With all due respect, my lord,” Darius replied, “that is not your decision to make. Two of the other Legion Generals have agreed with my analysis and suggestions. I realize I am the youngest member in that very select group, and I am not blind to the fact that there are those who consider me impatient because of it. Nevertheless, Generals Wystan and Belyise are senior members of the military. I would think their voices would hold weight, even if you wish to ignore mine.”
“It is not a question of holding weight, General, as I’m sure you know,” Savilen told him. “It is a matter of principle. The Alliance does not fire the first arrow—we fire the last.”
Darius kept his expression calm but allowed his voice to cool a few degrees. “Again with respect, my lady, tyrants thrive under those conditions. Allowing them to build up indiscriminately upon our border is foolhardy to say the least.”
“As would be an ill-advised strike on our part,” Margrove said. “You fail to mention the three generals who do not support your conclusions. And, of course, the will of His Majesty, which has always very clearly prohibited such aggressive acts by our hand.”
Darius smiled thinly. “I would not presume to speak for His Majesty,” he replied evenly, not-so-subtly throwing a look to Alistan as he did so. “But you are talking about three versus three—an even split amongst your loyal commanders. If nothing else, I contest this at least suggests the situation warrants further attention and debate.”
Savilen’s face remained expressionless, but Darius knew she was biting her tongue in annoyance at how he had managed to maneuver them to this point. They were a predictable lot, if nothing else, and even if they weren’t going to give him permission to launch an attack on the Crell, he might at least be able to cement the permanency of the issue in their minds. And, of course, the real goal of this entire exchange: sending a scouting unit into Galvia.
“In any case,” he said after a moment of silence, “I feel I’ve adequately expressed my concerns to you. It is my opinion that if we do not take action now, we will regret it in the not-too-distant future. We face an enemy with comparable or superior resources, territory, and military power; if we do not take advantage of the opportunities given to us, we put ourselves in great peril.”
“I thank you as always for your candor, Darius,” the Voice said with a soft smile. “His Majesty and I do agree with you that we need more information, and we are willing to listen to suggestions.”
As usual, Kaeldar preferred to let the lords carry the bulk of the discussion, interjecting only when necessary. The king had always be
en a passive man at heart, though he seemed to be growing more so as the years passed. Darius suspected that Areekan’s health might finally be failing, which meant that soon he would have to call upon the Council for a Rite of Ascension to select his heir. The process was dangerous, not just to the heir but also the entire nation—when the king’s powers were passed on to another, all of his priests across the Alliance would lose their ability to channel. They would need to return to the capital to reforge their bonds, and during that time Solaria would be virtually defenseless.
With no ability to channel himself, Darius couldn’t fully appreciate or even understand the subtle nuances of Ascendancy, but he grasped the tactical implications perfectly. He also knew that if the Crell learned of his weakness and tried to exploit it, the coming war between their nations would almost certainly be the last. It was yet another reason why they needed to act now and hit their enemies while they were weak and rebuilding.
“I would actually suggest something a bit unorthodox, Your Eminence,” he said after a long, deliberate pause. “We could contact Highlord Dracian and ask for his assistance.”
“The Last Dawn?” Alistan snorted. “The knights are killed on sight in Crell lands—you know this. And paladins make for poor spies.”
“We have spies, my lord,” Darius pointed out. “But that is fitting a square peg into a triangular hole. Our assets have been trying to deduce the name of this resistance’s leader and have learned nothing. If they can hide from the Zarul, they can certainly hide from us.”
He was quite sure of this particular point. The Zarul managed the internal security of the Imperium, ferreting out traitors and spies with ruthless efficiency. Any resistance that could survive Zarul sweeps could certainly survive those of Alliance agents.
“Whoever is leading them will meet with Dracian; we can be sure of that,” Tamas agreed. “Besides, we know the Dawn is interested in the rebellion. This might fit into their agenda nicely as it is.”
Alistan crossed his arms. “I doubt their agenda includes getting murdered by some Crell lunatic. Highlord Dracian is many things, but he is not a fool. Sending any of his people into Galvia now would be suicide.”
“That decision is for him to make,” Darius said. “In any case, I think it is worth consulting him on the matter.”
“Agreed,” Tamas said, nodding. A few of the others who had so far remained silent nodded as well.
Savilen, for her part, offered Darius a wry smile. She and Alistan might have been his opponents here, but they were old rivals in many ways as well, and Darius knew she would appreciate how he had managed to maneuver the old man into giving him exactly what he actually wanted in the first place.
“Agreed,” she said.
“I will contact Tevek tomorrow and request his council,” the Voice said. “In the meantime, I want fresh reports from all of our operatives in Crell territory, and I want everyone at this table brought up to speed.”
“I will consult my colleagues and have them file fresh reports as well, Your Eminence,” Darius said. “Now, if that is all the Council requires of me, I shall take my leave.”
Each of the lords offered him some additional platitudes, and a few minutes later he departed the room. The moment the doors closed behind him, he let out a deep breath but otherwise tried to remain expressionless. The entrance to the Council Chamber wasn’t exactly swimming with people, but there were plenty of armed guards, and he knew firsthand how important appearances were in such places.
Keeping his expression even and his stride crisp, Darius set off for the Temple of Sol.
***
Krystia Tharule took four deep, measured breaths before opening her eyes. The elderly man lying on the cot in front of her stirred as she slowly removed her hands from his side. He wasn’t exactly conscious, but even a small movement was more than they had seen from him in the past twenty minutes. More importantly, the green discoloration on his side was completely gone.
“I can’t believe it,” Arven breathed. “How did you know what was wrong?”
“His body told me,” Krystia said, smiling wryly. “How else.”
Arven shook her head in disbelief. “He should be dead right now. I wish I had half your gift…”
“He’ll still be in pain when he wakes up, but it should pass after a day or two,” Krystia replied, placing a reassuring hand on the other woman’s arm. “I know we’re a bit overwhelmed, but I’d still recommend keeping him here tonight and maybe tomorrow.”
“No one would argue with your recommendation after this. I’ll see if I can get him moved to a quieter area.”
Krystia nodded and glanced up at the large clock in the back of the room. “I’m actually going to step out early today. I’m a bit exhausted after that.”
Arven grinned knowingly. She might have been middle aged and married, but wasn’t naïve; her impish smile proved that much. “I’m sure you are. I’ve also heard rumors that the one of the Legion Generals is in town today.”
“Really?” Krystia replied, feigning surprise. “I had no idea.”
Arven squeezed her arm lightly. “Go on. I think you’ve done your good deed for the day. If I were you I’d head right to bed.”
Smiling, Krystia squeezed the other woman’s arm once before turning and dashing up the nearby stairs. Darius would be out of his meeting at any time, and she fully intended to beat him to her chambers. Fortunately she only had to climb a few flights of stairs to get there, while he would have to walk several blocks across town—never an easy task for a full-fledged Legion General in the nation’s capital.
Once she reached the third floor, she glanced back down to the sprawling infirmary below. Arven and the others still had plenty of patients to treat—at any given time, there were up to five hundred sick and wounded here, from peasants to nobles to soldiers. All Solarian citizens were welcome inside the Temple of Sol. In this day and age, even the smallest town in Alliance territory had at least one of the king’s priests serving in it, ready and able to tend to physical or emotional wounds, among other things. Krystia often wondered what life must have been like in the desolate areas of the world without an Ascendant. Rampant diseases, rotting teeth, high infant mortality, lifetimes that barely measured in the decades….it all seemed oppressively dark and miserable. But fortunately they lived in an age of wonder and prosperity, and it was all thanks to the power of the Aether…and of course, the benevolence of King Areekan.
Krystia winced at the thought. She loved His Majesty, of course, but there were still times when she couldn’t help resent some of his servants. The Bound sustained Solaria, and their magic was obviously both impressive and vital…but sometimes she still couldn’t help but see them as parasites. They drew on Areekan’s power like leeches, and worse they resented—no, feared—people like her. Or they would have, anyway, if they knew what she actually was.
Sighing, she turned away and continued her climb. Only the King, the Voice, and a handful of others knew her true identity, and they saw fit to remind her about the dangers of her untapped power every chance they had. Thanks to Highlord Dracian, the leader of the Knights of the Last Dawn, she was the only free Unbound in the entire country….and His Majesty intended to keep it that way. It was one of the True Tenets of Sol: unchecked power led to unchecked corruption. They could never trust an Unbound because she owed loyalty to no one but herself. They were terrified at the prospect of free channelers roaming around the world…and she couldn’t entirely blame them.
Her abilities as a healer were unmatched by any priest here in the temple and perhaps anyone in the entire Alliance, and that was just the beginning. She was only twenty-one, and already she could channel Aether more freely and easily than any Bound. If others like her were to suddenly become free, the entire social order of the Alliance could unravel. Or at least, that’s what His Majesty and the other Ascendants believed.
Pausing at the top of the chamber, Krystia glanced out the window and basked in the bright aftern
oon sun. Ever since she had learned about the Solarian Academy of Aether Studies—otherwise known as the Unbound Asylum—she had found it difficult to reciprocate Areekan’s affection. The Academy was a prison, pure and simple, where Unbound citizens were locked away and forgotten. It had existed for over three centuries, ever since a powerful channeler named Sevel Thorean had temporarily toppled the Alliance government. An Unbound himself, he had gathered other such men and women to his banner and had rebelled against what he saw as the tyranny of the Alliance government. Now the Solarian people were taught to fear his kind, and so they were locked away for their entire lives. While Krystia lived a privileged life as a priestess, thousands of others would never have that opportunity…unless someone did something about it.
Someone like her.
Stepping away from the window, she smiled and she opened the door to the temple’s living quarters. She had made many powerful allies in the last few years, not the least of which was the man she was about to see: Darius Iouna, General of the Sixth Legion, who also happened to be her lover. He knew she was Unbound and didn’t judge her for it—it was one of the reasons she had fallen in love with him in the first place—but he didn’t know of her desire to set others like her free. Not yet, at least.
Right now she wanted to help him get through to the Council about the danger posed by the Crell. That’s what his meeting with them today had been about. They had both assumed it wouldn’t be all that productive, but he was a persuasive man when he wanted to be. With any luck, he might have been able to turn a few more provincial lords to his side and keep the issue on the table. Regardless of what happened, he would almost certainly be stressed and in need of some relaxation. And that, at least, she could help him with directly.
Smiling to herself, Krystia scampered into her quarters and set to preparing for his arrival.
***
The Godswar Saga (Omnibus) Page 8
