The Grand Crusade (28 page)

“Did you put him up to this, false friend?” Scrainwood shot to his feet. “This is exactly what we feared. The frostclaw’s muzzle is in the tent, and the rest will be there soon enough. The resolution we passed was to guarantee the sovereignty of the weaker nations, and already they have found a way to undo it. That cannot be tolerated!”

Erlestoke rose calmly. “Father, this is not what you think.”

“No? Did I hear incorrectly? Is my son going to lead an army of foreign troops onto my soil? Are you going to march them through Oriosa and engage Aurolani troops? Those troops will only come in to oppose you when they fear your flanking maneuver. The idea that you are to prevent the same by Chytrine is a blind.”

“You may have the utmost confidence that she will not invade Oriosa, Father, but as the princess has pointed out, we cannot operate under that supposition. If I do not march through my home, we will be inviting Chytrine to do it, to strike here at Narriz. And, lest you forget, Meredo is on the road they will travel to get here.”

“Yourhome?” Scrainwood pounded a fist against the table. “You’ve not been there in five years, and have barely spent half your life there. You do not know the people, the proud people, who have no desire to be invaded. I will not let this happen.Wewill not let this happen. It has already been decided.”

The leaders of smaller nations nodded and their newly roused ministers aped the head-bobbing and took on grave expressions. Their fears were obvious, for if a nation’s borders were not to be respected, the prelude to the building of empires was sounding. They had to wonder if Alexia could be as greedy as Adrogans. They wondered if their nation would be the place where the burgeoning empires would collide.

Princess Alexia moved to the center of the tables and stared intently at his father. “Highness, with all due respect

”

“Faugh, you have no respect for me. You hate me; don’t bother to conceal it. Your contempt is palpable.”

“I was speaking to you as the King of Oriosa, not the man who lurks beneath that crown.” She opened her arms. “I speak now to all of you. You have given troops to a vast army with which we will destroy Chytrine. Once you gave troops, they ceased to be yours because the people you have given to this cause are warriors. They understand and accept dangers few of you have known andnoneof you have volunteered to endure. They are going out to fight not only for

the glory of their nation, but to preserve the future ofallnations. In doing so, they have passed from your control and into mine.

“I am aware of what you voted and what you intended. I know what you fear. The question you need to ask yourselves—the question you should have asked a generation ago—was this. Which is more of a threat to your nation: the people of the south, or the Aurolani Empress? A quarter century ago you came up with the wrong answer. This time your soldiers and I have come up with the right one. We will deal with it.”

Her violet eyes hardened. “You have sent good people to fight, to bleed, to die. They are willing to do so not because you bid them to, but because they know it has to be done. They are not fighting for their own immortality, but for the lives of their children and grandchildren. They are fighting for your subjects, not you. And they will fightin spiteof you, because they know Chytrine is more of a threat than any petty political squabbles.”

Venebulius, the King of Salnia stood. “General Pandiculia, I order you to withdraw our troops from this alliance.”

The Salnian officer didn’t even bother to stand. She just shook her head. “No, sire.”

“You are pledged to me, General.”

Pandiculia straightened up in her chair. “I pledge to be loyal to you, sire, but to serve the nation of Salnia.”

The king pounded a fist against his barrel chest. “IamSalnia.”

“No, sire. The nation existed before you, and it will exist after you. Forced to choose between you and the state, I choose the state. My people will stay with me.” She shrugged easily. “So it is with all the troops in the army. As the princess said, we’re willing to shed our blood for our homes, and we’ll do it whether or not you think it is a good thing.”

Venebulius’ brown eyes flared. “Die on the battlefield, then, for you shall never be welcomed home.”

“If that is your order, sire, as long as you are on the throne, I have no home.”

King Augustus shook his head. “I shall speak for myself, though I suspect King Fidelius will agree, that brave people such as you will find a home in many grateful nations.”

Scrainwood snarled. “This ismutinyand you abet it, Augustus. I thought you a friend, but you encourage my son to depose me. You will welcome the vipers who are his confederates.”

“It is not mutiny, Father, it is realism.” Erlestoke pressed his hands flat to the top of the table and leaned forward. “Muroso does not exist. Sebcia does not exist. Fortress Draconis is gone. Vorquellyn, Okrannel, the Ghost March, all these places were once independent and free. Bit by bit Chytrine has nibbled away at everything. Yes, we have gotten Okrannel back, but at great cost. Now Saporicia is threatened.

“You are all political. If Nefrai-kesh came riding right into this hall and said

that Chytrine wishes peace, you would listen. If she said that she wishes Muroso to become a buffer state to keep our realms distinct, and promised you generations of peace, would you accept it? Any of you shaking your heads are lying. Youwouldtake it, and why? Because you could tell yourself you did the best for your nation in ending the scourge of war.“

He straightened up. “You are sheep listening to wolves who say that the last of your brothers they took would be the final one. And, as sheep, you can’t fight the wolves. You listen to their lies because you have no choice. But we, the warriors, are your wolfhounds. We can and will destroy the wolves. You may choose to deny us leave, but we will do it anyway. We have seen the flock dwindle and we will not stand by to watch it anymore.”

Erlestoke looked directly at his father. “I am bringing troops through Oriosa, Father. Do not oppose me.”

“You will find the borders closed and hearts hardened against you, Erlestoke. You propose a civil war.”

“No, Father, I propose an end to fear. I don’t want your throne. Do not force me to take it from you.”

Scrainwood again slammed a fist onto his table, then looked around at the other crowns. “Take a good look at me, brothers and sisters, for soon you will be in the same state as I. You will be dispossessed, not by Chytrine, but by those who would use her as an excuse to do as they will. If you do not stop him, you are complicit in the crime he commits, and my retribution will be to your detriment.”

The King of Oriosa stalked from the room, with Cabot Marsham scurrying in his wake.

Once they had departed the chamber, Alexia began speaking again in low tones. “The decision as to how, when, and where Chytrine will be engaged has passed from your hands. The question before you all now is this: will you support your countrymen with more troops, more supplies, and more money, or will you put victory against Chytrine in jeopardy out of your own vanity and fear? King Scrainwood has made his choice. Will you be as foolish as he is, or will you find the spine necessary to save the world at risk of your own life—just as your warriors are willing to do?”

Queen Carus cleared her throat as low murmurs rose. “How certain are you of achieving victory?”

Alexia shook her head. “We have planned as best we can, using all the knowledge we possess of the enemy. Chytrine may have new things to show us, and we will change our plans accordingly. I cannot guarantee victory, but if all I could do was prophesy doom, I’d still be back planning a course that would succeed.”

The Jeranese Queen smiled. “I am not a military strategist, but I see no flaws in your plan. You have myfullsupport.”

Erlestoke was uncertain why she emphasized the word “full,” but the leaders of nations close to Jerana read a particular significance into it. Gurol and Valicia

pledged support for the plan. Slowly, and with much posturing, most of the nations present fell in line. The Salnian leader refused but since the best thing he could have supplied them with was General Pandiculia, his support was moot.

With the plan agreed to, King Fidelius adjourned the Council and invited everyone present to spend the two days of the New Year’s festival celebrating there in his court. He promised feasting and entertainment unmatched. Since few were the leaders who could return home even with a good tide and favorable wind, his invitation was greeted with applause.

Erlestoke smiled down at Pandiculia. “They’re more excited about the festival

than our plan.“

“At this point, so am I.” She shrugged. “I don’t envy you your part in this.”

“You’ll have the worst of it, I think.” Before he could continue, a masked mage appeared at his side. “Highness, if I could have a word?”

“Certainly.” From the mask and accent he knew the man was from Muroso, and given the markings on the mask he suspected he knew what the man wanted. “I have to warn you, however, that there is no way I can convince the princess to let you and your Addermages range to Aurolan to free Princess

Sayce.“

The man, in his mid-thirties, with thinning brown hair and dark eyes, smiled. “Glad to know you’ve heard of us, Highness, but that’s not what I am here for. I’m Rumbellow, by the way.”

“Pleased to meet you, Rumbellow.” The Murosan mage, if stories could be believed, had single-handedly slain an Aurolani slaving party, then led the former captives south. He’d gathered around himself thirty Murosan mages of various skill levels. They’d pledged themselves to Sayce’s service, and after she had been taken, they’d agitated to go after her. “What is it I can do for you and the Adders?”

“We want to come with you to Oriosa.”

“What?”

“We want to be part of your force, sire.”

Erlestoke winced beneath his mask. “You’re not going to find Sayce in

Oriosa.“

“We know that.” Rumbellow lowered his voice. “We had gathered last night to strike out on our own for Aurolan, when a Vorquelf came to us. Copper eyes, but she’s blind. She said she saw two paths for us. One was the one upon which our toes had already trodden. She said it would lead to Sayce’s death, our transformation intosullanciri, and the destruction of everything. The other, she said, was to join you. If we did, there was achanceSayce would be saved.”

“Oracle. You talked to Oracle.”

“Yes, sire.” The mage nodded. “The Adders are not quite as fearsome as our name, but we are the ones who have survived our nation’s being overrun. That’s got to count for something.”

Erlestoke smiled. “I’ve spent much too much time running from the

Aurolani. I know precisely what it takes to elude them. That you have done so counts more than you can imagine. I will be pleased to have you and your Adders in my command.“

“You won’t regret it, Prince Erlestoke.”

“I believe you.”

The mage started to turn away, but Erlestoke laid a hand on his shoulder. “Rumbellow, tell your Adders that if Sayce can be saved, she will be. She’s smart and resourceful, and so are the rest of us.”

The man smiled. “Yes, sire, thank you. Happy New Year to you.”

“And to you, Rumbellow.”

Alexia came over as the Murosan departed. “The answer is no.”

“It’s a different question. The Adders have joined my command.”

The princess smiled. “I don’t envy you the headache, but it’s one less for me. I also don’t envy you

”

“Don’t say it, Alexia. We knew how he would react.”

“Yes, but I hoped

”

Erlestoke shook his head. “I learned a long time ago not to pin my hopes on my father. He’s hoping I will balk at killing Oriosans. That’s the only way he wins, because he can’t fight a civil war.”

“Will you?”

“It is my preference not to.” He shrugged wearily. “If they stand between me and Chytrine, I’ll have no choice. If they are not helping me, they are helping her, and there’s a heavy price they’ll pay for that mistake.”

A lexia stood on the stone balcony outside what had once served King 11 Scrainwood as a receiving room. With the king’s hasty departure, Rounce 1 1 Playfair had once again taken possession of the estate and invited all of Crow’s friends to spend the two-day New Year’s festival there. As was the custom, the previous night they had all gone to the gala hosted by King Fidelius at the palace. The second night was meant for more intimate gatherings of true friends.

Alexia wore a gown that was not as fashionable as the one she’d had on the previous night, nor was her long hair bound up to expose her neck. She felt comfortable—perhaps not as at ease as she might in leathers or mail—but such clothes were not meant for greeting the new year. Besides, she would be wearing them soon enough and for quite a long time.

She looked out over the city ofNarrizand saw lights blazing, both in buildings and in small processions as people wandered the streets, singing gay songs of good fortune. Not only were the songs their gifts to others, but they were meant to be omens of the new year. Alexia certainly hoped they would be and that people would sing for joy throughout, but she was too realistic to imagine that would be true. Even if her forces were victorious, there would be families who would lose loved ones, and their songs would be anything but joyous.

Also out there, distantly, she caught the huskier songs sung by warriors. Valiant tales voiced lustily, unit histories and ballads of great heroes also filled the night. The warriors had a much better idea of what their year would be like, and their omen-songs invited courage and gallantry to visit them. Some were wishing they would not falter, others were laughing in the face of doom; but whichever, the singing bound them closer—and in that closeness they would come nearer Victory than without it.

She wondered for a moment if someone out there was singing a song of Crow or Will. She hoped so. Word had fast circulated that Will was dead, but just as quickly Oracle’s statement that he was waiting on Vorquellyn raced through the city. The warriors all knew Will was waiting, and each seemed to think the Norrington was waiting for him. “You just get us started, General,” she heard often enough, “and we’ll be helping the Norrington finish the Nor’witch.”