‘If the Possessed continue to advance at the same rate they will reach our border within the year,’ he concluded.
‘What about Acheron and Thraece?’ asked someone from across the hall. ‘Are they still refusing to join us?
Marshal Breton nodded.
‘And what about Valentia?’ asked another. ‘Will they stand and fight if the Possessed reach their border?’
‘We fear not,’ said Marshal Breton. ‘We now believe that King Vittorio will withdraw his forces to protect Caer Laison.’
‘But that would leave the pass of Amaethon completely open,’ said General Renucci. ‘The Possessed might simply ignore Caer Laison and push straight through into Navaria.’
‘That is a danger, yes,’ said Marshal Breton.
‘That would leave our southern border exposed,’ pressed the general. ‘Perhaps we should consider reinforcing Navaria?’
‘We can’t,’ said Marshal Breton. ‘The treaty with Acheron forbids us from taking an army into Navaria.’
‘But Navaria has no army of its own. Tyramimus must realise that they are defenceless.’
‘Of course he does,’ said the Queen coming to stand beside Marshal Breton. ‘That is why the state of Navaria was established in the first place, to provide a buffer between two warring nations.’
‘But if the Possessed broke through, the Navarians wouldn’t stand a chance.’
‘Then let us hope that they do not,’ said the Queen smiling at General Renucci’s indignation.
Presenting a remarkable sense of calm she also took a pointer from one of the cartographers and proceeded to summarise what the marshal had just told them.
‘So, the First Army is currently garrisoned in Hoffen,’ she said, pointing to the city in the north of Illicia. ‘The Second and the Third are deployed in the south and the Fifth is still recovering and recruiting back to full strength?’
‘And the Fourth is now ready for deployment, along with the mage army,’ said Marshal Breton.’
The Queen nodded her head in thought. ‘That leaves us with the Irregulars and the Légion Du Trône.’
‘Which must remain in defence of the capital,’ said Marshal Breton as if he suspected what the Queen might be thinking.
‘Of course,’ said the Queen, somewhat defensively.
‘She hates having to stay behind,’ said Lanista Magnus quietly. ‘Sending others off to war while she remains safely in the capital.’
Using her pointer the Queen drew two lines from Clemoncé to Illicia.
‘So, we shall reinforce the city Hoffen with the Fourth and, once it has recovered, the Fifth can move south to shore up the area around Amboss.’
‘But that would mean committing all five of the regular armies abroad,’ said Prince Ludovico. ‘Is it not folly to leave the Kingdom so unprotected?’
‘On the contrary,’ said the emissary as he too stepped forward. ‘Sending armies abroad remains the best way to protect the Kingdom. Our main priority is to halt the advance of the Possessed. And we must convince Acheron and Thraece to join us. Without their strength it is only a matter of time before we fall.’
‘Acheron is too arrogant,’ said General Renucci. ‘And Thraece will never join us. Not while the magi keep King Cleomenes on his deathbed.’
At this Galen Thrall rose from his seat.
‘I am quite sure Thraece will join us, once our mage army has had the opportunity to prove itself on the battlefield. They are training mage armies of their own and I am sure these will be successful where conventional armies have failed.’
The military commanders bristled at Thrall’s assertion that they had ‘failed’, but the Queen showed no sign of irritation.
‘The mage army will get its chance soon enough,’ was all she said. ‘In the meantime we will continue to support Illicia and Beltane.’ She turned to the emissary. ‘When will the Fourth Army be ready to march?’
‘Another two or three weeks, Your Majesty,’ replied the emissary. ‘We’re just waiting on the latest reports. If the snowfall in the valleys has not been too great we’ll be able to take a direct route to the front.’
‘Good,’ said the Queen, although Falco sensed her anxiety at the thought of the emissary returning to war. ‘And will it still be safe for the cadets to carry out their training campaign later in the season?’
‘It should be,’ said the emissary. ‘We have reports of minor incursions and night raids, but so long as nothing changes in the next few months they should be able to complete the exercise as planned.’
‘And have the goals of their campaign been decided?’
‘They will be taking supplies and reinforcements to the city of Le Matres,’ said the emissary. ‘They will then help to build two new bridges over the river Naern before escorting casualties and refugees back to the capital. It should take about two months to complete.’
‘Excellent,’ said the Queen. ‘Now, let us proceed to the orders we need to write.’
The scribes now took up their quills ready to pen the new wave of orders that would be dispatched to the front.
Falco heard Bryna whisper something to Malaki about the training campaign but he was not really listening. He was still waiting for them to address the strange ‘gap’ to the south of Hoffen, but they never did.
As it became clear that the meeting was coming to a close Falco found himself rising from his seat. The cartographers began to clear the map while the scribes prepared the orders and still Falco stood there. People began to whisper and point. Some of them began to laugh. Lanista Magnus looked at Falco with a raised eyebrow but he made no attempt to sit him down.
‘Do you have something to add, cadet?’
Falco’s gaze drifted down to Marshal Breton who was now looking up at him. The rest of the people on the floor turned to look at him also. The marshal was clearly irritated and Thrall gave Falco a cold, contemptuous stare. As for the others they merely appeared curious as to what Falco might have to say.
‘Well, Master Danté,’ said the Queen. ‘Do you have something to contribute?’
Falco’s mouth went dry as he suddenly realised that everyone in the chamber was now looking at him. He licked his lips.
‘I was just wondering about the gap in Illicia.’
‘What gap?’ said Marshal Breton, looking down at the metal figures that the cartographers had begun to pack away.
‘The gap in the forces of the Possessed,’ said Falco. ‘To the south of Hoffen.’
Marshal Breton frowned as if Falco were talking nonsense but the emissary strode over to the area in question.
‘Come and show us,’ said the Queen.
Feeling deeply self-conscious Falco made his way out of the row and down the steps leading to the floor. Ignoring the stony looks from Thrall and Marshal Breton he walked out onto the polished marble map.
‘Here,’ he said. ‘There’s a gap in the forces of the Possessed.’
‘That’s not a gap,’ said General Renucci. ‘Look... there’s a Ferocian army here and here with at least two demons in the area.’
‘Yes, said Falco. ‘But it’s one of the few areas where we’ve had some success. The leader of the Possessed would never allow such victories to go unchallenged. There should be something here.’
Everyone was now staring at him and even the emissary seemed uncertain. Marshal Breton’s expression suggested that he had heard enough.
‘How long have you been training at the academy?’ he asked.
‘About three months, my Lord.’
‘And how long have you spent studying the movements and strategy of the Possessed.’
Falco bowed his head and Marshal Breton gave a dismissive snort, but the Queen looked up into the seats on the far side of the chamber.
‘Battle Mage Saigal,’ she said, using the formal title to address Nathalie. ‘Do you see anything unusual in the enemy’s battle lines?’
Nathalie glanced at Falco before looking back down at the map, her eyes narrow
ed in thought. Finally she shook her head.
‘I would not have noted it myself but I too am surprised that the response has not been stronger in the north.’
The Queen turned back to Falco while Galen Thrall glanced at him with a condescending smile.
‘Surely we’re not going to take advice from a boy who is not even trained as a battle mage,’ he said.
‘Falco would not have spoken up without reason,’ said the emissary but Thrall merely curled his lip in disdain.
‘Besides,’ said the Queen. ‘Was it not Syballian himself who said that battle mages are born and not trained?’
Thrall’s pupils shrank with annoyance. It smarted to have the words of the most powerful Veneratu of all time quoted back at him, but he bowed to the Queen and turned away as if Falco’s observations were of little consequence.
‘Well,’ continued the Queen. ‘The Illician battle mages Wildegraf Feuerson and Jürgen Focke are in the vicinity. If there is anything untoward in the area I’m sure they will discover it. Besides,’ she added, ‘the Fourth Army will soon be heading in that direction but we should not be complacent.’
She turned to address the scribes.
‘Let it be entered into the records that an irregularity in the enemy lines was noted by battle mage-in-training, Falco Danté.’
Falco swallowed hard as his vague suspicions were entered into the official records. Only time would tell if they had any basis in reality. Glancing round he caught disapproving looks from Marshal Breton and Galen Thrall but then the emissary caught his eye and, while he did not smile, he gave Falco a nod as if to say, ‘Well done.’
‘If there is nothing else,’ said the Queen. She glanced around at the people standing on the map but it seemed that no one had anything further to add. ‘Then I thank you all for your time and call this public strategy meeting to a close.’
The entire chamber rose to its feet and placed their right hand across their chest in salute then, with a bow to her people, the Queen led the dignitaries back through the tunnel at the far end of the floor.
Falco returned to his friends as the carpet was rolled back into place. The cadets looked at him as if they could not believe how outspoken he had been. Lanista Magnus said nothing at first, although his heavy brow was creased in a frown.
‘Sorry,’ said Falco. ‘I just felt as if I had to say something.’
‘Don’t apologise,’ said Lanista Magnus. ‘You will need the courage of your convictions if you are going to lead. Mind you, I thought Galen Thrall was going to pass a stone when the Queen quoted Syballian at him.’
The cadets laughed and together they moved to join the flow of people leaving the chamber. There was much talk and discussion between the cadets as they made their way out. Alex and Quirren were understandably subdued while Malaki was talking to Bryna about the problems she was having with the Dalwhinnies.
‘You just have to show them who’s in charge,’ said Malaki.
‘That’s the trouble,’ said Bryna. ‘They know exactly who’s in charge. Patrick bloody Feckler.’
‘Why don’t you challenge him to a competition?’ suggested Malaki as they emerged onto the plaza. ‘If you beat him they might just fall in line.’
‘Fat chance of that,’ said Bryna. ‘Besides, I’m not sure I could beat him. He’s a good archer, they all are. It’s just that they don’t listen to a word I say. In two days time I’m supposed to give a demonstration of suivez cinq, and if we can’t perform the traverser manoeuvre we won’t be allowed on the training campaign at all.’
Malaki grabbed her shoulders and planted a kiss on the top of her head.
‘You’ll figure them out,’ he said.
Falco smiled but he was not really listening. He was thinking of what Lanista Magnus had said about him being a leader. He had never thought of himself as such. Indeed he found the very notion terrifying. People risking their lives on the strength of his judgement? He did not know how the Queen endured it.
He had only spoken up because he felt that it would have been wrong not to do so. He did not realise that this willingness to step forward and take responsibility was precisely what defined a leader. Had this occurred to him earlier he may well have held his tongue.
45
A Mental Block
The magi were in a dark mood as they returned to the tower. Galen Thrall in particular seemed to be swathed in a cloud of ill temper. Despite his efforts to assert himself the Queen had managed to retain control of the meeting, giving him no opportunity to expand on the virtues of the mage army. For a man like Thrall it was galling to be so efficiently outmanoeuvred. The fact that Falco had been allowed to speak only served to compound his displeasure. As they entered the main reception chamber Thrall gathered the senior mages around him.
‘The Queen’s lapdog departs in a few weeks’ time,’ Meredith heard him say. ‘We must be ready to give him a lesson in the art of war.’
Meredith arched an eyebrow at Thrall’s arrogance, but the words were not meant for him and so he said nothing. Instead he lowered his head and made his way towards the stairs leading down to the archives. He was almost at the top of the spiral staircase when Thrall’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
‘A moment, Master Saker. If you please.’
Meredith turned to see the Grand Veneratu eyeing him with a disturbingly keen stare. The other mages had begun to disperse and Meredith felt a tremor of unease as he returned to stand before the Worshipful Master of the tower.
‘This Danté...’ said Thrall, looking at Meredith as if he knew all the hidden secrets of his heart. ‘He learns quickly?’
‘No, Master,’ said Meredith with a shake of his head. ‘He learns slowly. But what he does learn he masters quickly.’
‘Hmm...’ intoned Thrall as if this was not what he wanted to hear. ‘And there is still no sign of offensive capability.’
Meredith struggled to conceal his indignation. The Grand Veneratu was clearly keeping an eye on their training sessions.
‘No,’ he said. ‘He is strong but his powers remain purely defensive. When it comes to aggression there is a block in his mind.’
‘Have you identified the source?’
Meredith nodded. ‘Guilt, shame and fear.’
‘Oh?’
‘Guilt and shame for what his father did.’
‘And fear of the enemy,’ suggested Thrall but Meredith shook his head.
‘No, Master,’ he said. ‘Falco fears the Possessed, of course, but that is not the source of the block.’
‘Then what is?’
‘It is the fear of madness and murder, the fear of turning out like his father.’
Now it was Thrall’s turn to nod. ‘And will he overcome it?’
‘I do not know,’ said Meredith. ‘He cannot change what happened in the past.’
‘Quite,’ said Thrall, his waxy green eyes glinting with an edge of ice.
‘Will that be all, Master?’
‘Yes,’ said Thrall. ‘I would not wish to keep you from your studies.’
Meredith sensed satisfaction in Thrall’s demeanour but there was also a certain wariness lurking behind his outward calm. With a bow he turned once more in the direction of the archives. As he descended the long winding stair he found himself wondering yet again about the magi’s opposition to Falco. At some point, in the not too distant future, the magi would attempt to break Falco’s resolve in the Rite of Assay and it was his job to make sure he was prepared. But if Falco could not call upon offensive powers then this would leave him at a huge disadvantage. Even if they were never used, the knowledge that such powers were at your disposal provided a powerful psychological crutch. Without it Meredith was certain that Falco would fail.
He spent the rest of the night reading various texts on the history of Wrath and the physiology of dragonkind, but his concentration was broken by an uncomfortable thought that kept surfacing in his mind. It was the fear of letting Falco down.
46
Respect
The cadets were in a reflective mood the following morning. Not only had the strategy meeting given them much to think about but, with the departure of the Fourth Army now imminent, the emissary had announced that today would be his last training session with them. The instructors were also holding a meeting of their own and so the morning session had been concluded early. Most of the cadets took the opportunity for an early lunch while Quirren led several of the trainee knights up to the dressage field to prepare for the afternoon session.
Malaki would have gone with them but Bryna was heading over to the archery ranges to see if she could make any headway with the Dalwhinnies, so he decided to grab some food and go with her. Falco was eager to get up to the crucible but he knew that Bryna would appreciate the moral support so he and Alex went with her too. Reaching the low rise overlooking the archery ranges they spread their cloaks on the cold ground and took out the food they had brought with them.
‘I’ve tried everything,’ said Bryna. ‘They’re completely uncontrollable.’
‘Of course they are,’ said Alex. ‘No one can control the Dalwhinnies. Not unless you’re a murdering criminal like Paddy the Feck.’
Malaki and Falco exchanged a worried look. They had never known Bryna so downhearted.
‘Well you’re early today,’ said Malaki. ‘Why don’t you just go down and start shooting. Maybe some of them will join you.’
‘No chance,’ said Bryna. ‘They never do anything unless Paddy tells them to.’
The others grimaced awkwardly but there was nothing to be done. With a sigh Bryna took up her bow and started down the slope to the ranges. Even from here they could hear the chorus of whistles and laughter that greeted her arrival.
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