“Your pardon, Third, but I prefer the comforts of the tavern.”
Nico smiled. “We have those, too.”
The city had been in no position to house a thousand prisoners so soon after a siege, therefore most of the Lorester solders were paroled and sent back home with orders not to take up arms against Akenberg again. A few, feeling no particular hatred for their neighbors, had willingly joined the Fourth Army’s march to Asturia. Only the officers remained in Neublusten, and only the general staff imprisoned in the Rechshtal’s adjoining gaol.
Nico entered without fanfare, wanting a few minutes to observe the dynamics of the prisoners. One thing he had discovered in recent years was just how much could be learned from watching people when they did not know they were being watched.
He spotted one familiar face right away—Fineo, the envoy of the crown prince, who had once crushed Nico’s soul with the information of his family’s betrayal.
Besides Fineo, there were six others in the communal cell. All of them wore the uniform of Lorester, gray and brown, prominently emblazoned with the proud lion of Chissenhall.
All were men. Two of them, one young and one old, were sharing whispers with the foppish captain. Three others sat together, playing cards and occasionally swapping banter with the first three. The last, a white-bearded old man all but shunned by the others, sat alone in a corner.
Nico wished he had thought to bring Cottzer along, if for no other reason than to get a sense of the personalities and importance of the people here. The insignia on their uniforms indicated that three were captains, three commanders, and only the quiet old man a general.
An odd dynamic was at play here, for it was strange to see an officer—and a general, at that—neglected by peers. No doubt the others held him responsible for the recent, unexpected defeat.
Nico waited for someone to notice him and the talking to diminish. Only then did he motion the guard to open the door and let him in.
“Captain Fineo. How pleasant it is to see you. How pleasant, indeed.”
The once-brash officer looked quickly at the young commander he had been speaking with. Then he smiled sheepishly at the Akenberg king, a man whom he had not treated well when last they spoke, yet who had assumed an air of polite cheer. Caught somewhere between a frown and a smile, Fineo stepped forward.
“Thank you, Prince Nicolas. That is to say, King.”
At the sound of the name, all seven prisoners stopped what they were doing to watch the exchange.
“Are you treated well?” Nico inquired. An answering nod, as was to be expected. “In that case, I have a favor to ask. I require a dependable man to deliver a message to King Maximil.” This is the sort of man who will recommend himself. To abandon other prisoners in order to escape his own imprisonment.
Another glance exchanged, then Fineo smiled broadly, reassuming the false air of good cheer that was so irritating. “Of course, Prince Nicolas. That is to say, King. May I recommend Commander Tomas, who is the finest rider amongst us, and as dependable as any Lorester alive.”
That may not be saying much, Nico thought. He nodded. “You may recommend him, indeed.” He turned to his companions. “Lima, please escort this Tomas to the Rechshtal. And summon Generals Reikmann and Cottzer. I suspect we have our crown prince, after all.” I cannot believe I didn’t do this already. An oversight that might have cost us greatly. Perhaps I need help more than I thought.
“Pim, take the captain to General Koblenzar for interrogation.”
Fineo attempted to protest, grabbing Nico by the arm. “You err, Prince Nicolas…that is to say—”
He stopped and stared at the array of swords raised all around him, the guards only waiting for a nod from their king.
Nico looked at the hand clutching his arm, then into the other man’s eyes. “I suggest you accept the change in circumstances a little faster, Captain. For your own good.”
Then he faced the old man in the general’s uniform, watching from the corner. “You there. What is your name, Commander?”
“Farrel, King.”
“Just so. Commander Farrel, come with me. I need you to carry a message to Chissenhall.”
To Nico’s surprise, Fawkes brought a flagon of wine to their second meeting, and took intermittent sips during the discussion. Yet his face showed none of the markers of heavy drinking, nor his voice the signs of intoxication. The pleasant jocularity remained, reminding Nico in many ways of Mip, Pim’s twin who had been the delight of the Threeshields until his sad death at Cormona.
Much like Nico’s sessions with Arturo, the two men spent most of their time bent over a large map of the twelve kingdoms.
“Second Devero is here.” Fawkes tapped the southeastern portion of Falkenreach, where forest thinned to plains. “Or was, when last I saw. She intended to move north with Thane Vasturo, to challenge the horde before it swept south.”
“What do you mean, challenge? Surely she does not mean to fight all the demons herself?”
“Nay. I mean, aye.” He took another swig of wine. “They speak of a man who commands the demons, and this man is her target. She seeks to kill the leadership and see the rabble descend into confusion.”
Nico had his doubts that things would be so simple, but he was here to listen and learn, not to offer objections.
“How soon?”
“As soon as she learns his location. Reports are frustratingly wild and contradictory.”
Considering the range of outlandish rumors he had heard—all manner of foul creatures witnessed in the dark woods, rogue beasts turning suddenly hostile, perpetual storm clouds filling the skies—Nico could well imagine how difficult it was for the Second to distinguish fact from fiction. “Your best guess?”
“Very soon. Perhaps as we speak.” Fawkes took another swig. “I…am anxious to get back. I wish to be at her side, not a kingdom away.” He hesitated. “Your pardon, Thane.”
Nico dismissed the apology with a wave. “What of the other Second? What can you tell me?”
“Second Garrett is east, aiding the Vilnians.” He pointed to Northgate on the map.
“Against the Chekiks?”
“Aye. They received warning of the invasion before the enemy could get the bulk of their forces through the mountains. The fight is thickest here, at Halfsummit. Thus far, the Vilnians hold them at bay.”
Nico stared at the markings in the mountains. “There are two other passes, however.”
Another swig, heavier than usual. “There have been no reports from Soul’s Pass, in the north.”
“And Sea’s Pass, in the south?”
“A massive lake obstructs the way, right in the middle. A beautiful sight, if rumors be true. The surface freezes for much of the year, naturally, but not enough to allow an army to cross.”
“Not an army, but the Chekiks would be foolish to send no one at all.”
“Aye, and they have. Raiding parties only. Gothenberg reports they have already taken care of them. It’s clear that the invasion’s heaviest thrust is in the center, and so it’s there we have focused our forces.”
A logical plan, but one that worried Nico immensely. It assumed much based on little evidence, with the existence of the empire at stake. “One final question for today, Thane.”
“Aye?”
“May I have a swig of that wine?”
“And so I believe Koblenzar deserves a second chance,” King Nicolas informed his predecessor.
“Did you learn nothing from what happened with Handersonn?” Hermann raged.
“I did, but that was incompetence.”
“Disloyalty is a far graver concern than incompetence.”
“General Koblenzar has not yet been disloyal.”
Hermann glared back at his son. “Even you aren’t this naive, Nicolas.”
“Even you understand the need to hear voices that don’t only say what you want to hear. It’s a mistake many leaders make, and I don’t intend to. I need information, father.
It will take too long to replace Koblenzar’s network. We need every ally we can get.”
“Not every ally is a friend. Some smiles mask deceit.”
Nico’s exasperation grew. “Then I’ll be careful with what he tells me.”
“And what of what he doesn’t?”
“I cannot run a kingdom with nothing but suspicion and distrust.”
Hermann sighed. “How did I ever raise such a fool? At least Markolac knew when to listen.”
“Yes, that worked out well for us all.”
This conversation was even more painful than expected. His father’s frequent contempt was currently even more irksome than usual, for this time it was deserved. This whole notion to reappoint Koblenzar was foolish, but Nico was going through with it, anyway. He had no choice. He had to believe in second chances, because he needed Leti to give him one.
Regardless, he was ready to end this conversation. Whatever advice the good king Hermann might provide was not worth the price.
“Captain Mickens, I am sending one of the Loresters to their king with a message. Please choose two troopers as escorts.”
“Aye, Third.” The young trooper saluted and turned away, but not before Nico noticed the man sported new facial hair to hide his homely face.
Nico looked over his shoulder at Fawkes, whom he had invited to today’s dispositions. The thane would be leaving soon, and Nico wanted him to report to the Second that Akenberg was doing all it could to end one conflict and help with the others. “The terms are generous. We don’t seek Lorester’s humiliation, nor any of their land, but only their aid in the coming wars.”
Fawkes nodded, looking more sheepish than usual. “Aye, My Third.”
Cottzer was next. For this, Nico stood to deliver the orders. “General, I haven’t an army to offer you, but this duty is just as important as any field command. We need updates from the war in the east. You will take two companies of light cavalry to Northgate, with a double complement of horses. From there, use discretion in your dispositions—but I expect your main force to continue to Halfsummit. Avoid the fighting unless you really can help, and send regular reports to me.”
Most of these points were being repeated for emphasis, the general having already received a full briefing the eve before. Nevertheless, the repetition made Nico feel better. Whereas the man had been quite distracted at the prior meeting, he seemed much sharper today. Small wonder, coming on the heels of a good night’s sleep with the secure knowledge that the king was salvaging his career.
“I also want scouts sent north to Soul’s Pass and south to Sea’s Pass. We need a continuous watch on each.” In war, as in other things, surprise could be deadly.
“Understood, My King. I’ll begin at once.” The general saluted and briskly moved away, showing none of the tears of joy and gratitude that overwhelmed him last night.
Nico studied the other Swordthane once more, attempting to read the man’s mind. The appealing face carried an air of gravity that mixed with its natural cheerfulness, creating a curious amalgam.
“Thane Fawkes.”
“Aye, My Third?”
“I cannot talk you into staying longer?”
“Nay, My Third. I appreciate the offer, but my duty is elsewhere. I ride north and west later this morn.”
Nico nodded. “I know. I will be headed west soon enough myself, Thane. You are welcome to accompany my army—”
“Your pardon, Third, but I prefer not to delay.”
“Just so. In that case, I hope you will accept an escort. I can spare only one squadron of troopers, but the Second may find them useful in a fight. And can consider them only the start, for I will send more as soon as I’m able.”
“You send troops away while you still can use them here? I…cannot refuse aid, Third.” He looked as though he wanted to say more.
“Lima, Pim…will you excuse us a moment?” Nico waited for the door to close. “Continue, Thane.”
“My Third, I must say, my time here did not go as expected.”
“No?”
“Nay. I assumed you would order me to join this war against your neighbors. A Swordthane is a valuable resource, yet you never seemed to consider it.”
Nico remained quiet, letting the man speak his mind.
“Third Arturo was the finest man I knew. He lifted me from servitude to become what I am today.”
I’m not sure I like where this going.
“I thought to hate you, King Nicolas,” Fawkes said abruptly. “By the gods, I wanted to hate you. But I find I cannot.
“When I arrived, I meant to challenge you. To avenge my Patron, or die trying.” He looked like he wished for another flagon of wine. “I no longer feel such compulsion, however. The empire is better off with you fighting for it.”
Nico was touched by the candor. Here was a man who had not wanted to like him, yet did despite himself. Of such beginnings could friendships grow, and Nico was in constant need of reliable friends.
“Thank you for those words, Thane.” Though I’m not sure I deserve them. “Please, go with my best wishes. Tell the Second I desire nothing more than to end my kingdom’s selfish war, and join her in the north.”
4
Falkenreach
“I wish it would stop raining,” Kluber said.
“I think I see a break in the clouds,” Calla replied. “Perhaps this afternoon will be sunny.”
“The rain has not stopped for four tendays,” Margo chimed in. “Where have you been hiding to not know this?” Her plain features assumed a look of curiosity. Jak would have thought suspicion, but he doubted this decent-hearted woman was capable of distrust.
“Hush now, child,” she went on, smiling down at the cooing infant who squirmed and giggled, cradled on her hip.
Jak grinned, despite himself. It was intoxicating to think that Calla would soon have just such a blessing. The anticipation brought a wide range of emotions, but foremost among them was an endless joy. He glanced at his beloved, hoping to see a similar thought flicker across her lovely features. Instead, he saw a return of the troubling clouds that continued to inflict her in recent days. She had not spoken of what ailed her—indeed, had denied that anything did—but a lifetime of companionship and unceasing reflection had brought Jak an understanding that few people had for another. She was an open book to him, and he knew when something bothered her. Not only knew, but felt an aching compulsion to alleviate her distress, if only she would let him.
Jak had finally accepted his love for her. He longed for an understanding of the world entire, yet had so long denied this one simple truth about himself. He had certainly loved her since the time he was old enough to possess mature desire, but his loyalty to Kevik the Kind, his master and friend, had prevented any form of competition.
She was Jak’s now, though, and he would never let her go. Enough years had been wasted already.
“Child, stop wriggling.”
Margo, whom he had only known for a handful of hours, was every bit as easy to read. Her sanguine disposition had buoyed the weary travelers through the past few days, as more and more refugees attached themselves to the growing mass of miserables.
“Do you wish to trade, wife?” Tomba asked. On his shoulders he carried their older daughter, a freckled, strawberry-haired five-year-old named Simpa. Jak had barely heard the girl utter a single word, her quiet disposition taking more from her reserved father than her garrulous mother.
“Nay, husband. Mara will behave herself. Won’t you, darling?” She readjusted the baby and tickled its belly, eliciting a burst of renewed cooing and wiggling.
Jak’s group of three had encountered the family of four shortly after reaching the road to Daphina. In the two days since, the forest thinned and the party thickened, as more and more fearful Reachers elected to flee the province ahead of the spreading menace.
The Veldt was near, of that he was certain. Jak did not understand how he knew—perhaps his connection with the devils gave him a parti
cular sensitivity to their foul workings—nor did he know just how near the horde was. It could either be miles away, or just behind the tree line. Either way, he kept his knowledge to himself, lest the others become even more distraught than they already were. Yet he did his best to keep everyone moving.
Most of the Reachers were from this southern stretch of the kingdom they were fleeing. Only the three friends from Everdawn hailed from as far as Shady Glen. Kluber warned the other two not to mention this fact to anyone else, as that name had become an oath, spoken with fear and contempt. And not without reason, for it was the source of the catastrophic evil pouring across the land.
Although there were now nearly two dozen people walking in loose proximity along the muddy path, Jak had less desire to interact with the others than to stay close to Margo. She was the only one who seemed capable of talking about anything but corruption and death. He understood why it was on the mind of everyone here, but he had seen so much of it for as long as he could remember. Now, even the most banal frivolities were a treat.
“Tell me again of the hare that Simpa found,” he asked.
“Aye, she thought it was rabbit, like the one we kept when she was young…”
It amused Jak to think that they no longer considered the five-year-old to be young.
“We let her feed the rabbit bits of cabbage, and so she tried to take a leaf out to this new fellow…”
As her mother spoke, Simpa watched with rapt attention. Though the subject of the story, however, never did she utter a word of her own.
Margo spoke louder as the sprinkling of rain grew heavier. “Well, of course a hare has no interest in cabbage, so it—”
Her voice trailed off as a disturbance broke out on the road ahead. They heard the sound of hoofbeats in mud, then saw a trio of mounted riders round a distant turn in the road. Their uniforms were darkened with moisture, but the livery was instantly recognizable as the silver fleur on azure blue.
Empire Asunder BoxSet Page 53
