Arrows of Revolution (Kingmakers Book 3)

by Honor Raconteur

  The Master of Spies outright grinned at him. “A fine notion, Your Highness. Also, might I suggest that we make use of our bandit connections?”

  Hendrix blinked, taken aback. “We have bandit connections?”

  “Indeed we do. Or at least we have rumored bandits in that area that we can use to our advantage by playing bandits ourselves.”

  Leaning over the map, Hendrix traced the distance between Kremser and Estole’s border, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “If we could somehow force the army up toward Senn, so that they have to re-supply there via the river…we could possibly have a guerilla force hit them there and wrest their supplies from them. It would cost Maddox dearly.”

  Even Riana could see it. An army of that size could not possibly take enough provisions for a journey and then a battle. Even she and Ash, just two people, had to stop and buy food along their way, and they’d packed as much as they could before leaving Estole. Kremser wasn’t as far south as Honora, granted, but it was still a good three week journey for a body of men numbering in the thousands. Mayhap a bit longer than that. “Belike they be supplied by wagon on the march up, though?” she ventured.

  “That’s probably the case,” Hendrix admitted, still staring hard at the map. “It depends on how many troops Maddox will bring and how much of his supplies he will choose to bring with him. Not to mention how he chooses to divide his troops. If he has enough to come at us by land and sea, then we’re going to be battling on both fronts. Troi, I need an answer to that question.”

  “Trust me, Your Highness, we all want an answer to that question. When I have it, you’ll be one of the first to know.”

  Hendrix gave him a shrug and grimace, acknowledging that was a stupid order to have given, but glad that Troi had taken it in the spirit in which it had been meant. “I can’t make definite plans on some things until I know. But while we’re waiting, I’d like to get what we can started.”

  Broden, ever sensible, cleared his throat and gave the young prince a meaningful look. “Ye might get better answers, lad, if ye fed people first. Breakfast can do wonders for a man’s brain, ye see.”

  Hendrix blinked, as if food hadn’t even occurred to him, then twisted about to stare at the clock on the mantelpiece. “It is time for breakfast, isn’t it? Alright, let’s adjourn for now. Meet back here in an hour.”

  Everyone gave Broden grateful looks, all except for Riana, who knew very well that her father’s suggestion had not been given for anyone else’s benefit aside from his own. Broden Ravenscroft needed a very good reason to skip a meal and war was not a sufficient one to his mind.

  Chapter Two

  Breakfast (and copious amounts of medicine mixed with potions) did the trick. The hungover kings and their councilors retired back to the study much more alert and clearheaded than they had been before. Broden watched them settle into their seats with a secret smile. Food always made a man better prepared to take on a task, even if it was brain work instead of muscle.

  Broden sat next to Ashlynn as a matter of course and waited for the show to begin. He had no doubt there would be one. With three men in the room that were used to dictating how things would be, a storm was inevitable. The only thing that had prevented it before was that two of them had been hungover.

  Hendrix did have the sense to not take the seat at the head of the table but was instead on Edvard’s right. Tierone chose the seat to the left. Broden wondered if either man questioned where he was sitting, or why he had chosen to position himself so. Historically speaking, the king’s sword always sat to his right, and his shield to his left.

  Catching Kirsty’s eye by accident, Broden realized he was not the only one to see this positioning or catch its significance. Kirsty, at least, had picked up on it as well.

  Clearing his throat, Edvard drew everyone’s attention to him. “As I’m not sure how aware we were an hour ago, let me repeat what Hendrix’s overall plan is, so that I know we’re all on the same page. In order to avoid an open conflict that we can’t win, we’ll instead divert the army coming at us toward the north, using every tactic we can devise, and stall for time. In that time, Hendrix will go through the country and the Court, solidifying his position with the people, and promote himself as a better candidate as the next king. To cement this, we will employ several tactics to undermine both king and heir apparent in every way possible, so that it would seem the only logical choice would be Hendrix. We want to drive Iysh to the point that it feels like it will collapse under its current rulers. Once Hendrix is on the throne, he will recall the army and we’ll formalize a treaty between us.”

  “Very concisely put,” Hendrix approved.

  Yes, so it had been. Broden felt surprised as he was not entirely sure Edvard had been completely awake an hour ago. Hendrix’s general outline of his plan had also been sidelined several times, making it difficult to follow. So Edvard could think even with a pounding skull and a sick stomach, eh? Good trait for the man to have.

  “The trick to this,” Hendrix continued to the table at large, “is to come up with tactics that will cost Iysh dearly but will not carry a very high price tag for us. Rumors and half-truths through our spies will be the first and best weapon because of that.”

  “Iyshian officials have a habit of believing rumor for truth anyway,” Troi observed with a dark, twisted glee. “I’ve seen a few of them that actually wrote reports based on rumor, just to please their superior officers who believed it.”

  “Wait,” Ash demanded incredulously. “They would actually report on a rumor like it’s fact? They wouldn’t try to verify it or disprove it first?”

  “Making their superior officers happy is their first priority,” Troi explained, still gleeful. “As long as it sounds even remotely plausible, they’ll roll with it. They’ll also discount anything that goes against their preconceptions.”

  Hendrix rubbed at his forehead with both hands, looking beyond pained. “Master Troi, tell me that you have a list of these idiots?”

  “Of course I do, Your Highness, they’re very dear to my espionage heart.”

  “I’m sure,” the prince drawled darkly. “I’ll remove them as soon as I gain the throne.”

  From Troi’s expression, one would think that someone had just informed him that his favorite toys would be taken away. It did make Broden wonder—just what lies had the man been feeding his enemy? And how preposterous were they?

  “I also have a list of their favorite lies, if that helps,” Troi offered.

  “It will,” Edvard assured him, adopting his ‘thinking pose’ of staring up at the ceiling. Broden often thought he did that because the ceiling would not demand immediate answers from him. “But for the purposes of this meeting, I don’t think we should go into detail on each aspect of this plan. We’ll be here for the next three days. Let’s sketch this out in broad lines first, refine it from there.”

  “But we all need to know what the other is doing so things don’t conflict,” Hendrix protested.

  “Only generally, man,” Tierone rumbled and with a very casual circle of the hand that indicated the table as a whole. “You have experts sitting all around you. Trust them to do their job. We only need to confer with each other enough so that one’s efforts don’t foul up someone else’s.”

  From the expression on Hendrix’s face, he did not agree with this at all. “Plans do not stay intact once you encounter the enemy. There should be at least two people who understand everything that’s going on, what everyone is supposed to do, so that when alterations need to be made, we have a dedicated decision maker in place.”

  Broden had to admit the boy talked sense. “Two because if one can no’ be reached, mayhap the other can?”

  “Exactly,” Hendrix agreed, stabbing his finger in Broden’s direction.

  “You have the two decision makers right here,” Edvard said impatiently, gesturing between himself and Tierone. “We don’t need to tie up everyone in this room for days at a time hashing ou
t details. We can’t afford to, for one thing, they need to be doing their jobs.”

  “And how are we supposed to know if a plan will work without their input?” Hendrix demanded.

  “Actually, Edvard, he might have a point in keeping people here until we do have a plan, and an alternative,” Tierone suggested with a thoughtful look at the table in general. “We get the most interesting ideas from our archers, I know, and sometimes unexpected inspiration comes from people outside of our field.”

  “You’ll also be repeating yourself over and over if you dismiss people too early,” Hendrix argued. “You might as well say it all now, even if this meeting does take days.”

  Broden imagined sitting here listening to people bicker back and forth. For days. Perhaps a full week. He couldn’t quite stifle a groan.

  Fortunately, Edvard was not having this. “Hendrix, listen to me; we can ill afford to keep people here longer than two hours at a time. They all have vital jobs to do and basically everyone in this room is indispensable. We need them back out there as quickly as we can manage it. Repeating myself is just one of the prices to pay for that. Now, can we focus?”

  Ashlynn leaned into Broden’s side and murmured, “I predict an argument in five seconds.”

  “—like my father,” Hendrix was saying hotly, “you’re terrible at taking any kind of counsel!”

  Edvard’s temper flared and he slammed his hands against the table, sending his chair catapulting back as he leapt to his feet. “I’m nothing like that two-faced glory hoarder!”

  As the men started yelling back and forth, Ashlynn let out a not so subtle sigh of vexation. Broden eyed her sideways. It was never a good sign when she did that. Things tended to either get cursed or broken in short order. “Lass, there be many a good book in here that be hard to replace.”

  “Dousing them in water is out,” she agreed but that look had not left her eye. “However, there are other methods.” Raising both hands, she pointed the index finger of her left hand at Hendrix, and the first two fingers of her right hand at Edvard and Tierone. She spoke a word, fingers making a jabbing motion, and a short spark burst forth, hitting all three men simultaneously.

  They reacted as if they had been shocked—strongly—yelping and jumping back. Hendrix looked about frantically, confused by the source, but Edvard and Tierone knew exactly where it had come from. Glaring, they protested in unison, “Ashlynn!”

  “Do I need to resort to tactics I used when we were ten?” she asked them, finger tapping against the table in a very matronly gesture. “Are you rulers or children?”

  “She actually zaps people?” Hendrix demanded incredulously of Edvard and Tierone.

  “All the time,” Edvard responded sourly, rubbing at his chest and glaring at his sister.

  “You’re marrying into the family and will be considered her brother-in-law, so we should warn you now,” Tierone added, “she’s ruthless when it comes to arguments. Won’t tolerate them. You’ll either get zapped or doused in water if you start one.”

  “This time we were saved from dousing because of our location, no doubt,” Edvard observed as he glanced around the study. “Thank you for not hitting my books.”

  “And the rest of us,” Ash muttered aloud.

  “Since the three of you can’t decide on this amiably,” Ashlynn informed them with that you-will-obey-me tone of voice, “we’ll decide for you. We will discuss and plan as a group up until the point where one of us feels he has nothing to contribute and it isn’t necessary for him to know the details. When that happens, that person may leave and go back to their job. If you wish to plan things in detail with that person further, then you can catch him later for a private meeting.”

  Two kings and a prince were not about to cross a woman with a short temper and magic literally in her fingertips. They docilely agreed and regained their seats.

  “Now, I’m not a strategist,” Ashlynn stated as she regained her seat, “so someone needs to explain this to me. Why are we trying to send the army north?”

  “They’re going to come this direction anyway,” Hendrix explained with a wary eye on her hands. “We can’t divert them any other direction without causing trouble with one of our neighboring countries. But the main reason why I want to send them even further north is that I’m hoping we can use the winter storms to trap them up there for a while, buy us more time without tying up manpower or magical resources.”

  “It be a fine thought, lad,” Broden rumbled thoughtfully, “as the snows up there can be fiercesome. But surely yer brothers no’ be stupid enough to send soldiers up there during winter.”

  “It’s been a mild winter down here,” Kirsty stated slowly. “Would they think that it’s the same up in Cloud’s Rest? Or at least above Senn?”

  “The trick,” Hendrix told them patiently, “is to make them think that’s the case. That the winter was mild all around. This is where a campaign of misinformation becomes vital. I need Maddox to believe three things—one, that our main defenses are only on the Estole/Dahl/Iysh border. That we have little to no defenses along the channel.”

  “You’re painting a target on the north side,” Tierone realized, sitting up straighter, interest cemented. “Deliberately drawing them around Senn and through Cloud’s Rest to get to us.”

  “Exactly.” A wolfish smile appeared on Hendrix’s face. “We’ll reinforce this idea by making our barrier at least look impenetrable. Make it beyond difficult to attack us from the south side, so they’ll try the north out of frustration, if nothing else.”

  “Especially if their spies report the northern winter was mild, the roads are passable, and they’ll have an easier fight if they come through the channel?” Troi’s smile matched Hendrix’s.

  “Master Troi, will it be difficult to convince Iysh of this?”

  “Perish the thought, Your Highness. It will be child’s play. I have exactly the right spies in mind to leak the information through.” Troi’s expression reminded Broden of a merchant that knew of a wicked bargain he could make.

  Broden realized in that moment that part of the reason why Troi was so good at his job was because he honestly loved doing it. “Lad, no’ to put a spike in yer wheel, but Ash said earlier that he can no’ keep the barrier up around Estole and Dahl for more than a few days. Be that enough time?”

  “Likely not,” Hendrix admitted. “Ash, Ashlynn, what are your thoughts?”

  The twins turned and gave each other a speaking look that could have filled volumes. After several seconds of this they said in perfect unison, “Moving wall.”

  Edvard was the only one that said, “Ah!” in recognition.

  “We used this once, briefly, in the last battle,” Ashlynn told the group. “We were low on magical power, had to think of a way to conserve what we had while defending the city still, and so we set the barrier to be moving. To be attached to a person more than a specific place. It moved up and down according to where the enemy forces were. It’s nigh impenetrable, but of course it has a few weak points. It’s literally tied to the pillars and it can be burrowed under or around, and if a pillar falls, the whole barrier goes with it.”

  “Still, the pros outweigh the cons. If we couple this with the right glamour spells,” Ash picked up smoothly, “then we can convince the enemy that this isn’t a moving barrier, but our actual barrier. It will look nearly impossible to break through.”

  Hendrix leaned forward, wheels spinning visibly in his eyes. “And how long could you hold that?”

  “Weeks, easily,” Ash assured him. “Especially if we’re doing it in a straight line as we discussed earlier, so that we cut down on the amount of territory we’re guarding.”

  “Weeks,” Edvard stated with an evil smile, “would be sufficient time to convince the Iyshian army that attacking us from the south will be too difficult. I like it. Ash, will you need Gerrard’s help with this?”

  “Absolutely. When I said we can hold this for weeks, I meant with the academy’s help
. No way just Ashlynn and I can do it.”

  “I’ll let you discuss this with him and get it in place, then. Actually, where would we put it?”

  Again, the twins spoke in unison: “Right outside our main wall.”

  “Not further out than that?” Hendrix protested. “Don’t we want more room between us and the enemy?”

  “Prince Hendrix,” Kirsty explained patiently, “we’re over-simplifying how this thing would work, so I understand why you would question this, but in truth this barrier is hideously complex. On a magical level, it’s like creating a very complex mathematical equation, giving it instructions, and then turning it loose. Would you create something that’s quasi-experimental and then turn it loose without keeping an eye on it?”

  “Ah…” Hendrix seemed to think better than to blithely agree. “But it’s been done before.”

  “On a much smaller scale and for a relatively short period of time,” Ash reminded him. “This will be a more permanent fixture and much larger than anyone’s tried before. Worse, it will take several magicians operating it to make sure that it keeps functioning as we intend it to. We literally need it within throwing distance of us, otherwise we’ll be camping out in the snow to get this thing built and maintained.”

  “And if the enemy somehow finds a weakness and starts exploiting it, we’re in trouble if it’s too far out, because we won’t know something’s wrong until it’s already happened. And we’ll be badly out of position to react to it,” Ashlynn added bluntly. “Trust me, it’s better to keep it near our wall; at least that way we can keep an eye on it.”

  “It’ll mean sacrificing some of Estole’s farmland as well as Dahl’s if we do that,” Hendrix responded slowly, sneaking a peak at Edvard. He seemed to think an explosion of temper was imminent.

  Edvard surprised him by giving a grim smile. “When I told Ash where to build the wall, I was prepared for this possibility. I have to focus on saving lives, not land. My wizards, how long will this take?”