The Cerberus Rebellion (A Griffins & Gunpowder Novel) (3 page)

“A flagon of chilled wine,” Eadric said before any of his council members could make a request.

“Yes, Your Highness.” The steward bowed again and disappeared through the door.

The nobles made small talk with their king while they waited for the steward to return. He was only a few minutes in retrieving the chilled flagon, four silver cups, and one griffin talon horn. He poured each a cup and retreated against the wall.

Eadric set his cup untouched on one of the side tables.

“My Lords, I suppose you are all wondering why the ambassadors from Welos and Istivan requested a meeting with me,” Eadric began. Altavius nodded. William grunted. “They bring grave tidings from across the Vast Sea,” he continued, “and a request of our people.”

Altavius' eyes glittered and William sat up in his chair.

“Emperor Frederick Maximilian of Chesia has invaded the nations of Jarin and Malkala, and he has been amassing forces to push into Andivar or Garton.” Eadric shook his head. “The other nations are becoming worried. Andivar has mustered its armies, which should dissuade the Emperor, at least for a time.”

“The Emperor would be a fool to invade the Andivari,” Altavius agreed. He was the only one of them that had ever seen the other side of the world, even if it had been twelve hundred years prior. “The Andivari armies are the best trained and best armed on the other side of the Vast Sea. The lack of prospects to his south will more likely push the Emperor east.”

“That is what many others have decided as well,” Eadric confirmed. “But if Chesia invades northeast, into Garton, there is only one goal which they would have in mind.”

“Ehtroy and the Pinch,” William said. “But the Pinch is flanked along its coast by massive mountain ranges, and the pass through them is protected by two massive fortresses at the west end and the Citadel to the east.”

“No armies have breached the Citadel, nor made their way past it, ever. But it has been hundreds of years since the last attempted attack. Gunpowder weapons have come a long way since then.” Eadric picked up his wine and took a sip. “The rulers of Istivan and Welos do not seem to hold to that opinion of the Citadel's defenses.”

“Istivan and Welos have never been terribly friendly,” Altavius pointed out. “More than a few wars have been fought between the two. If those two have come together, the threat is indeed perilous.”

“Eighty days ago, Grand Duke Acantha, his ambassador to Ehtroy, and the ambassador from Welos had a meeting with King Mercer. In it, they detailed their plans for the defense of the Pinch, using the combined armies of Ehtroy, Welos, and Istivan. King Mercer has decided that Emperor Maximilian is not a threat to his people, and that he does not require the aid of his eastern neighbors. And he will not let them pass the Citadel, lest the Emperor hold him and his people responsible for it.”

“He has refused to allow them passage?” William shook his head.

“And they have told him that when the Emperor does invade, they will lend him no aid,” Eadric added.

“Damnable fools,” Alden swore. Then his eyes narrowed in realization. “Sharing that information was not the point of their meeting. We could have read it in the papers, or heard from our own ambassadors across the Vast Sea.”

“You are correct.” Eadric nodded and took a drink. “The Grand Duke of Istivan and the King of Welos have asked that we call our levies to arms, sail them across the Straits of Steimor, and march them overland to join with their armies in preparation for the invasion by Chesia. Their message comes with the endorsement of the Triumvirate of Lot'Mai-ron and the Sea King of Laine.” Altavius took in a great gasp of air. His eyes widened and his knuckles whitened, so firm was his grip on the arms of the chair.

“Those endorsements do not come lightly,” Altavius said after a moment. “No one has ever received the endorsements of both the elven realms.”

The two nations of elves held wildly different opinions of the men that they shared this world with. The Sea Nation of Laine was a great naval power with swift warships and deep hulled merchant ships. They took part in the wars of men more often than their southern kin would have approved.

Lot’Mai-Ron’s three-headed council held its nation out of the struggles of men. They provided wisdom and knowledge to those who asked it of them, but nothing more. And they rarely agreed with their estranged relations.

“It is a great undertaking to call up all your nobles and their armies,” Alden noted as he rubbed his chin. “I don't believe that we will need the whole of our levies. One hundred and sixty thousand soldiers will be difficult to camp, difficult to feed, and very difficult to move to the front.”

“If we're going to throw our lot in with Istivan and Welos, we need to make sure that we are not wasting whatever we send across the sea. Those men are going to have to return and till our fields. We need to send an overwhelming force,” Lord Richards pointed out, as if everyone in the room didn't already know that.

“I think we should reconsider this course of action,” Alden said, the hesitation in his voice evident. Even his closest advisors rarely dared to oppose the king when his mind was set on something. “There is no benefit to sending our armies across the sea for a war that may never happen.”

“Even if the war does not develop, the goodwill that we will gain with Welos and Istivan will more than account for sending our troops to their aid.”

“Your Highness, we already have strong trade and diplomatic ties with King Caerwyn and Grand Duke Acantha,” Alden said. “What more can they provide us that they do not already?”

“If the Chesians are content with the conquest of Jarin and Malkala, the goodwill with Welos and Istivan will do nothing. If, however, the Emperor invades Ehtroy and is repelled by Caerwyn and Acantha, they will control the Pinch and many of the harbors that our merchants frequent.The benefits from that situation are immeasurable.”

“Even if the benefits of aligning ourselves with this coalition have great potential, it is not Welos or Istivan that will bear the burden of sending our armies across the sea,” Alden said. “When the time comes to pay our soldiers, the gold and silver will come from our coffers.”

Peter spoke for the first time since the council had entered the small chambers. “The coffers could handle all the expenses of the sailing the army across the Straits. And feeding them while they are on the boats and in Welos or wherever they end up. But it would be up to the Lords to pay the wages for their soldiers, and feed them and march them to the nearest ports.”

Peter’s ledgers were always impossibly accurate, so if he said that the royal coffers could withstand a cost, then it was true. Eadric had audited the accounts, more than once, and every time the numbers had come up correct. He wondered, as he watched the man flip through the pages of one thick leather tome, how it was that someone so honest had come to become a master of accounts. And what the man was hiding behind his obvious facade.

“I would want them to gather here before they make the journey across the Straits,” Eadric said after a moment. “And the year has been plentiful. Our granaries were overfull and many of my nobles sold their spare grain to merchants. Their coffers wouldn't suffer too greatly from the cost.”

“I think we should offer to pay a portion of the soldiers' salaries,” Altavius suggested. “It will take some burden off the nobles. We could raise some form of tax to cover it if we need to.”

“The coffers could sustain the cost of the basics of transport, but—”

“The coffers will recover,” Eadric interrupted. “We'll cover the first year of the soldiers' pay once they reach Istivan. After that, the nobles will be responsible for paying their troops.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Peter nodded and scribbled a note in one of his ledgers.

“Very well.” Eadric stood. His closest advisors followed suit. “Lord Hanley, send out the riders to the nearby nobles and dispatch a messenger train to the West. I want the letters to be sealed until they are delivered. Instruct the nobles to call their levies to arms. Tell them to meet with their dukes while they are waiting for their soldiers to gather. I want all of the planning and organization set before they march. Charles, please get word to the High Priest. I would have his blessings.”

Altavius winced at the reference to the High Priest of Elsdon. The elven priests did not get along well with the priests of the various gods that were worshiped in the lands of men. The High Priest of Elsdon led the largest temple in Ansgar, dedicated to Tyro, the Ansgari God of Justice. The Elsdon sigil had been taken from the symbol of the faith of Tyro: a giant with a spear in hand.

“William, if you would stay a moment longer?”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

“You are dismissed, gentlemen,” Eadric said.

“Yes, Your Grace.” Alden Hanley and his colleagues bowed, and the three advisors excused themselves from the chamber.

Eadric stepped back to the table he had been studying before his advisors had joined him.

He had heard reports from his spy masters that the nobles of Western Ansgar had grown increasingly bold in their expression of discontent with his rule. Most were wise enough to have kept their feelings to themselves, or to express them only in private council. A handful, however, had railed against his policies in public meetings. Their representatives in the castle had downplayed their lords’ indiscretions.

This would be an opportunity to send some of those malcontents away to see what it was like away from their warm castles and servants. It would do them well to get their hands dirty.

Sending his armies across that sea was a risky maneuver. If he were attacked by any of his neighbors while his armies were away, it could take months to get his armies back.

But it wasn't his neighbors that he was worried about, and he was afraid to admit that to his advisors.

“Your Grace?” William asked.

“William, I’d like you to meet with the Welosi and Istivani ambassadors and inform them of our decision,” Eadric said.

“Of course, Eadric,” William said with a nod.

“I want our levies to be recognized as a force to be reckoned with,” Eadric said. “I will not have the other nations laugh at us behind our backs—or worse, think us weak because some western contingent can't keep themselves straight.”

“Our armies will have months to train before they cross the Straits,” William said.

“I want you to lead our armies,” Eadric said after a pause. “You’re my right-hand man. If there is anyone who knows what I want accomplished, it is you.”

“I’m honored, Your Grace,” William said. “But who will remain here to advise you?”

“That is no issue I have more advisors than I can count. What I need is someone that I trust leading my armies when they are tens of thousands of miles away. We grew up together, we learned from the same teachers. There is no one better qualified.”

“There are plenty of generals with more experience than me,” William pointed out.

“Your battlefield experience is the least of my concerns,” Eadric said. He placed a hand on William’s shoulder. “I need someone that I trust intimately and I need someone that my nobles will accept as my surrogate on the other side of the world.”

“Let me think about it,” William said. He stood.

“There is one more thing,” Eadric said. “I’m concerned about the nobles in Kerberos.”

“Your Grace?”

“I have heard whispers that they are making plans to reassert their independence. If we are going to move our troops across the Straits of Steimor, they will have to march through Kerberos. Should Duke Jarmann truly have plans to revolt against my rule, I think that it is likely he will take advantage of this situation and may attack our armies while they are surrounded by his own.”

The nobles that once called themselves the nation of Kerberos had fallen under the control of Ansgar after William the Defender had repulsed their invasion and countered with his own. When Sigurd Jarmann had knelt before William, he had pledged that his lands, and those of his nobles, would forever swear allegiance to the crown of Ansgar.Eadric doubted their resolve. And their loyalty

They were not of the same blood as the people of Ansgar, who had come across the Vast Sea more than twelve centuries ago. If the Lords of Kerberos were able to convince King Harolds of Steimor or Herzog Renwyk of Beldane to join their cause, they could field an army larger than any that Eadric could hope to muster.

“Magnus is your family,” William reminded his liege. “He married your sister; their children are your blood.”

“My sister was never a strong soul,” Eadric said. “That’s why I forced her out of the regency when I was sixteen. Her children will be worse. My nephew Roland has only been to Aetheston twice in his life, and I’ve never even seen the other two. They have spent their entire lives with the Kerberosi, reading their accounts of history, listening to them complain about how we’ve had our boots on their necks for a century.”

“I doubt that Magnus will be foolish enough to mount a rebellion when we have our levies assembled and trained,” William said. “He is a bold man, but he is not stupid.”

“I want you to draw up plans to deal with the Kerberosi. If Magnus decides to take advantage of our current situation, I want him crushed.”

Chapter 2 - Raedan