A King's Caution (The Eternal War Book 2)

by Brennan C. Adams

  “How can I help you, grandfather?” Raimie asked.

  Really? The kid asked if he needed help?

  Eledis had observed how busy Raimie was on a daily basis. The kid lived a life of non-stop activity. If he didn’t soon learn time management, he’d burn out. Maybe Eledis could eventually use such a situation, but it wouldn’t be helpful yet.

  “Don’t you have enough on your plate?” he asked.

  “Sure, but if my grandfather needs something from me, I’m more than happy to help,” Raimie offered. “The other stuff can wait.”

  By other stuff, did he mean battle plans and logistics? Because no, you idiot, that can’t wait.

  “I don’t need anything, Raimie. I’m only here because I’m assigned the role of messenger this morning!”

  “Oh, really? Must be important to have you leave your comfortable room. I know how much you like it.”

  Why you little-!

  “A man’s waiting for you in that room,” Eledis said, indulgently smiling. “He insists he’s part of your Hand and has important information for you.”

  “Fantastic! I’m glad one’s back!” Raimie exclaimed. “Which is he?”

  What on Alouin’s green earth was he talking about?

  “What did he look like?” Raimie asked.

  “Short,” Eledis answered. “Actually, he was quite small in general.”

  “Sounds like Little. I think Oswin deployed him to the Birthing Grounds. Simply fantastic! I’ve looked forward to this particular report!”

  The kid had formed a Hand?! When had this happened? And why hadn’t he known about it?

  “Do you mind if I run ahead?” Raimie asked, big, blue eyes begging for permission. “I can accompany you to Riadur’s house if you’d rather, but… I need to hear Little’s report.”

  “No, please, do what you must, grandson,” Eledis replied. “Don’t mind me.”

  “Thanks! See you there.”

  Raimie became a streak of flesh accompanied by light, and Eledis irritably tsked.

  Magic. Alouin damned magic. How was it the person upon whom he must rely employed the one thing he despised almost as much as the Dark Lord himself? At least Kheled, the other primeancer, wasn’t around to corrupt the kid any longer.

  When he’d read that bit of news in the Da’kul report, Eledis had nearly jumped for joy, but doing so wouldn’t have been politic with Raimie standing not ten feet distant. The kid had unquestionably been in the clutches of grief. Raimie had never been so short for such an extended period of time with Eledis. Later, he’d shared his glee with Marcuset, and although his friend had expressed sorrow at the loss of life, he’d joined Eledis in his celebratory round of drinks.

  Speaking of his friend, he hoped Marcuset would quickly come to Riadur’s home. Eledis had the feeling that whatever news this Little had brought would lead to a meeting, one where he’d need his allies present if he wished to temper whatever crazy idea Raimie devised.

  The hike to Tiro’s center didn’t take long, but it played havoc on his aging body. Damn the effects of time! It wasn’t long ago that he could have made this trek with ease.

  As hoped, Marcuset waited for him outside the house.

  “I’m glad you sent that messenger,” he murmured as Eledis approached. “You were right. He’s called a meeting to discuss next steps.”

  Eledis puffed through the door and up the stairs, and Marcuset followed on his heels.

  “Should be interesting to see what he wants to do now.” The commander laughed under his breath.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen under his sway as well,” Eledis snapped.

  “You have to admit he’s performed better than we expected,” Marcuset answered.

  Eledis made a face. He shouldn’t have been so disparaging. His friend was already stuck in a difficult position, torn between the kid to whom he’d sworn fealty and the friend he suspected of indulging in plots against his King.

  “I’ll do no such thing,” Eledis replied, but his tone had lost tension. “Any hints you’re willing to share before we go inside?”

  “Riadur and his oldest son will join us,” Marcuset answered, “and Eledis? Kylorian… he’s going to look familiar. Just warning you.”

  “That’s all I get?”

  “That’s all you get.” There was a mischievous glint in his friend’s eyes, and Eledis groaned.

  The dining room door loomed ahead. They’d recently taken to meeting there because of the extra space the large room provided. Eledis shoved through the door and into the room. He quickly scanned each person present. Raimie and his bodyguard stood at one end of the room, Aramar’s ridiculous chair was pulled up to the table’s center, and Riadur and-

  He clutched the table to halt his tumble to the floor. Looking at the kid seated beside Riadur felt like being gut punched. Kylorian could have been the twin of Eledis’ long dead brother.

  Behind him, Marcuset chuckled, and Eledis made a mental note to smack the man later. He straightened while his friend took a seat next to the cripple.

  “You must be Kylorian.”

  “And you, Eledis,” the kid simply said.

  He’d even inherited the sullenness which came off as snark! Oh, this kid would cause trouble.

  “So, what did your spy tell you, grandson?” Eledis asked.

  “Enough to compose a new battle plan,” Raimie answered with a smile. “I was waiting for you to commence with an explanation.”

  “I’m here! Let me take a seat.” He wandered to the chair beside Kylorian and gingerly dropped into it. The younger man almost imperceptibly leaned away with distaste, but Eledis noticed the motion despite its minuteness. “I’m sorry I’ve made you wait.”

  “Don’t worry, Eledis. We weren’t waiting long. So, where do I begin?” Raimie nervously tugged on his uniform’s sleeve.

  That was one of his newest habits, and it irritated Eledis to no end. It reminded him of other young soldiers from his past, men and women who’d died long ago.

  “How about with a target?” Kylorian suggested.

  “Yes! Um, the next place we will attack is the Birthing Grounds-” Raimie started.

  “Are you insane?!” Riadur interrupted, his face already advancing toward a characteristic shade of red. “The Birthing Grounds is an impossible goal! You’ll be sending your men to their death!”

  “Dury.” Kylorian laid a calming hand on the other man’s arm. “We should hear him out. He’s already accomplished a task we thought impossible by taking Da’kul. There’s no harm in listening to him further.”

  Riadur unhappily grumbled but made no more protestations. The room’s occupants looked to Raimie to continue.

  “Um…” he mumbled, again tugging on his sleeve.

  Suddenly, Eledis saw an enormous downside to Kheled’s death. Much as the Eselan might have deserved his hatred, Kheled had always provided a significant boost to Raimie’s confidence. In his absence, the kid reverted to a shy, self-conscious boy from the country unless someone provoked him.

  Well, Eledis was quite skilled with that.

  He opened his mouth to taunt Raimie and hopefully get this show on the road when a knock interrupted him. The door burst open, and a short, auburn-haired stranger stumbled inside.

  “Sorry I’m late!” he exclaimed. “Or am I early?”

  The question was directed at Raimie who stared at the stranger bug-eyed, much like the rest of the room.

  “Early,” the kid muttered, an annoyed expression flicking across his face.

  Raimie dragged the stranger to the side to hold a hurried conversation, and Eledis raised an eyebrow at Marcuset who shrugged. His friend didn’t look concerned, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t be. Marcuset had always been remarkably awful at understanding the political implications of a random event such as this. To whom was this stranger’s allegiance?

  “Apologies for the interruption, everyone,” Raimie announced, interrupting Eledis’ contemplation. “This is Keltheryl.
I’ll introduce him more fully in a moment, but for now, suffice it to say I asked him to join us, although it wasn’t supposed to be quite so soon.”

  He said the last words through gritted teeth, and Keltheryl beamed at the kid, oblivious to Raimie’s frustration.

  A new, mysterious stranger, huh? For the meeting’s proceedings, Eledis guessed the man would play one of two roles. Keltheryl would prove to be an expert on a subject with which Raimie needed assistance, or he’d possess knowledge of the Birthing Grounds Raimie wanted personally shared.

  It was also possible the stranger had some unique skill Raimie's plan would require, but upon observing the man, Eledis dismissed the notion. Keltheryl was a skinny toothpick of a man, composed of awkwardly proportioned limbs and little to no muscle mass. He looked more the scholarly type than a weapons master such as Raimie would require in battle.

  Was the stranger really a stranger, though? Now that the shock of his clamorous arrival had passed, Eledis recognized him as the human who’d hung around Raimie in the weeks since Da’kul.

  “As I was saying before Keltheryl interrupted,” again Raimie’s eyes shot daggers at the stranger, “Little recently returned from the Birthing Grounds. He brought with him information that… Well, I’ll have him explain.”

  Keltheryl opened the door once more, and the spy Eledis had earlier met shuffled inside, supporting his weight on the stranger’s proffered arm. The remainder of those seated at the table gasped, and Eledis pursed his lips as well. He’d seen the spy’s face when it was a mess of weeping splits in flesh, and although he knew the stitches holding the cuts closed were necessary for healing, that knowledge didn’t stop the horror of observing what appeared to be a further destruction of the spy’s countenance. The wounds which slashed across his forehead and cheeks would have been scarring enough, but one particularly deep and vicious gash near the corner of his mouth would forever draw what once were attractive lips into a permanent sneer. Another ran from the corner of his eye to the join of his jaw and neck, the slice stretching so close to the eye that the lid partially peeled from his face.

  “Little!” Oswin stepped forward, reaching a hand to him.

  “I’m fine, Middle!” Little snapped, brushing past the bodyguard without accepting his help. “Let me do my job!”

  Unsteadily pulling a chair from the table, Little collapsed into it, and Oswin reluctantly returned to his corner.

  “Forgive the appearance,” the spy sighed. “It was a parting gift from Doldimar.”

  “You met the Dark Lord?!” Riadur squeaked.

  The spy ignored the question, facing Raimie instead. “I’d like to shorten my report if that’s all right, Your Majesty. I can hear my bedroll calling my name.”

  Raimie frowned, but Eledis knew the displeasure wasn’t in response to Little’s suggestion. The kid still hadn’t adjusted to his rise in station from peasant to royalty.

  “I’d prefer if you kept it short and sweet.”

  “In that case, does anyone need an overview of what to expect terrain-wise at the Birthing Grounds?” Little asked, wincing as the final word uncomfortably stretched his lips.

  Riadur and Kylorian shook their heads, but the rest of the table looked lost.

  “The place where Doldimar creates his Kiraak is based in an enormous pit, a mile or so deep and wide, with sheer drops the whole way ‘round,” Kylorian explained for Little. “The only way down is via staircases temporarily carved from the cliff face using primeancy.”

  “Exactly, although that’s not perfectly accurate,” the spy continued. “There’s another way down. One your man showed me, Kylorian.”

  Riadur’s son brightened. “Ibilfer? How’s the old bastard doing?”

  “It was Ibilfer’s partner actually,” Little intoned, and he grimaced. “He wanted me to tell you he’s sorry he couldn’t protect your friend.”

  Kylorian’s delighted smile tilted uncertainly downward. “Does that mean…?”

  “He’s dead,” Little confirmed. “An Overseer killed him.”

  “Damn it!”

  Kylorian slammed a fist on the tabletop. Springing to his feet, he paced to an isolated corner, there to blankly stare at the wall. After an awkward silence, Eledis cleared his throat.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, but… we should get on with this. You mentioned another way down, Little?”

  “Indeed.” The spy nodded. “A sinkhole not far from the crater within which the Birthing Grounds sits. They’ve carved caves into the crater’s walls, and one of those caves leads to a crevasse a sinkhole has created. They’ve placed a ladder to the surface there. The crevasse is narrow and tight, but it would make an easy entry point for a saboteur team.”

  “It would be a small advantage but could prove useful,” Aramar surmised.

  Eledis rolled his eyes. Leave it to the cripple to point out the obvious.

  “Tell them the best part,” Raimie prompted.

  “I obtained reliable intel that Doldimar will depart the Birthing Grounds within the next few days,” Little said. “If he follows his established routine, he’ll take several Enforcers with him, leaving a token force of Overseers and one or two low-rank Enforcers for the place's defense.”

  “Obviously, you’ve a plan to take advantage of this fortuitous happenstance, grandson,” Eledis commented.

  Reinforce the familial relationship before the kid explained. If the idea was brilliant, the other men in the room would relate it to him, even if only subconsciously. If it was terrible, he could berate the plan as much as he pleased while keeping the appearance of an older, wiser mentor intact.

  “I do, but first-”

  “I’m free to go?” Little finished for Raimie.

  “Enjoy your well-deserved rest,” the kid confirmed.

  Climbing from his chair, the spy bowed. His white knuckles atop the table’s edge spoke to the effort it took to remain standing.

  “Your Majesty.” Little stumbled out the door.

  “Keltheryl…” Raimie murmured.

  “I’ll be right back,” the stranger acknowledged, sprinting after the spy.

  “Here’s the plan,” Raimie continued as if the small delay had never occurred. “With Da’kul’s capture, we’ve come into possession of several siege machines. I’ve asked around, quickly learning Tiro has the means to transport them. If Riadur agrees to assist, we’ll take a small number of the fort’s catapults and trebuchets with us to the Birthing Grounds. We’ll use them to bombard the enemy, soften them up-”

  “For what?” Riadur asked. “An attack? By all means, order your men to charge. Watching them leap to their deaths will prove amusing. Or do you plan to send them in via this hidden ladder? It sounds like a choke point to me. Your soldiers won’t make it down and past a barricade alive.”

  “Ky, your father must think I’m incredibly stupid,” Raimie commented, and Kylorian shrugged from his corner. “Or maybe both of you do?”

  Kylorian’s shoulders slumped, and he reluctantly returned to the table. “I haven’t spent enough time with you to comment on your intelligence, but if you’ve decided to submit to my sister’s advances, you can’t be that stupid.”

  Wait, what?

  “Thank you, I think,” Raimie replied.

  “You’re seeing my daughter?!” Riadur roared.

  Thank Alouin the other man had asked! If Eledis had been forced to do so, who knows what sort of heated argument would have broken out between him and the kid.

  “My relationship with Ren isn’t in any way relevant to what we’re discussing,” Raimie answered.

  Riadur must have taken that as assent because he shot to his feet. “You stay the hell away from her!”

  Kylorian’s hand shot up to grip his father’s sleeve. “Not the time, Dury!” he hissed.

  It took quite a bit of tugging, but the red-faced man eventually sat back down, his face’s flush beginning to mottle from contained pressure.

  “As I was saying, we’ll soften the
m up before we attack, as you guessed, Riadur, but you were wrong concerning how I plan to get the army into the Birthing Grounds. I want to send a saboteur team into the pit in concert with the bombardment. The team’s job will be to activate a staircase in the cliff walls-”

  “How?” Kylorian asked. “You need primeancy…”

  He trailed off, and a troubled expression took hold of his face.

  “Can I finish, please?” Raimie asked. “Questions can come later.”

  “He really doesn’t like getting interrupted,” Marcuset loudly whispered to Riadur’s son.

  “The saboteur team will create a staircase for the men to begin their descent,” Raimie continued, rolling his eyes. “Once a significant number have reached the pit’s floor, a portion of the team will-” His eyes flicked to the side. “Really? I don’t have to stay near the staircase?”

  Marcuset exchanged a concerned glance with Eledis. Did Raimie speak to the splinter which supposedly accompanied his magic or to someone else? Someone they’d hoped to never again encounter?

  Beside Eledis, Kylorian squirmed. He could almost imagine the younger man’s fight to resist asking the question which ate at him. Riadur seemed too wrapped in the horrifying knowledge that his precious daughter romanced the man he hated to notice said man’s apparent break with reality. Aramar merely waited for his son’s next words.

  “Nix the portion idea, then,” Raimie continued, grimacing. “The entirety of the saboteur team will commence their attack. A large deterrent to our successful capture of the Birthing Grounds will be the Kiraak. Those unfortunate souls will be helpless to disobey their orders to defend against what they perceive as enemies. Until their command can be disrupted via cutting ties with their Enforcers, they’ll stop at nothing to push us back. Once their Enforcers are out of the picture, however, they’ll become dazed, walking bodies, much like what we saw following Teron’s death. So, our most urgent task will be to pacify the Kiraak. To that end, half the saboteur team will locate the Enforcers and neutralize them. Leading that half will be-”