The Powterosian War (Book 5) (25 page)

“I’ve missed Konnotan,” Saxthor said to Bodrin, who rode beside him, looking this way and that at the city sights like a hungry man at a feast. “I’ve fought all my life for this city and its people, for this kingdom to prosper and know peace. Look at them. Now my people run about terrified of a historic threat known all their lives but now come to life and approaching, a reality of impending doom. Do they know of the Grand Imperial Army approaching the border that will overwhelm them in less than a month, I wonder?”

“Chatra Rakmar will have told them by now, I’m sure,” Bodrin said. “You sent him orders to warn the people to take whatever preparations they think necessary should the defenses fail and they need to take refuge somewhere. Though I don’t know where they can go to escape doom if Neuyokkasin falls.”

“We’ve worked for generations to build this city and kingdom. My people’s neat farms, cottages, and possessions fill them with memories. Their elderly parents and helpless children, all are gambled on this war, perhaps this impending battle.”

“You’ve done all you could, Saxthor. None could have done more.”

“Are you two going to reminisce all day or are we going to get on with this?” Tonelia said, riding up beside the pair whose horses had slowed to a walk.

“She’s a hard woman,” Bodrin said, flicking his reins and advancing to a trot.

“She’s right; there’s no time for daydreaming.”

*

The party rode through the city, the horses’ hooves clacking on the capital’s brick streets until they rode through the palace gates to the stables. They dismounted, except for Bodrin and Tonelia, who rode on to Vicksylva for a day’s rest.

Chatra Rakmar rushed to greet them as Saxthor and Tournak strode through the palace audience hall to the royal apartments in the keep above.

“Welcome home, Your Majesty,” Rakmar said, bowing profusely, ingratiatingly, making Saxthor uncomfortable.

“Thank you, Rakmar. What new preparations have you made for the city’s defense?”

“The walls are finished, the arsenals are filled with every implement of war, and the city warehouses are stocked with food stuffs in case of a siege. We’ve dug new wells in strategic places should the city’s water supply be cut off from the river. I do worry about having sufficient troops to garrison the walls, however.”

“Well, there are troops on the way. Where is the Dowager Queen, Queen Dagmar’s mother? I must see to her. Have the royal palace, the old war palace in the hills above Lake Peeplos prepared for occupation should the enemy overwhelm Konnotan’s defenses.”

“The Dowager Queen keeps mostly to her rooms, Your Majesty.”

“I’ll go see to her needs. I wish a meeting of the councilors, ministers, and the city’s military commanders this afternoon at three. Arrange it, please.”

“As you say, Majesty,” Rakmar said and, bowing profusely again, the chatra withdrew to issue the orders and summon the afternoon’s meeting participants.

In the private royal apartment, Saxthor took off his riding gloves. Belnik assisted him in removing his armor, while Tournak inspected the city.

“I remember playing with the wood sprite down there in the grove beyond the palace walls as a boy. So many memories,” Saxthor said, putting his helmet on a table. Belnik removed his breastplate and Saxthor sat down on the bed, the state bed, though redecorated, where he had scampered as a child to greet his parents when they occupied the apartments. “I can still see mother propped up on a mass of pillows and father getting dressed there in the adjoining dressing room. Those were simpler times, times before I felt Earwig’s threat. Times when playing soldiers and chasing butterflies in the cool summer mornings made life such a delight. Now, all this may be swept away forever.”

“Your Majesty must look to the future,” Belnik said.

Tournak returned. “Rest, Saxthor. I’ll go meet with Memlatec and see what his take on all this is.”

“Yes, we must confer with Memlatec before the meeting with the city and kingdom’s leaders this afternoon. Hurry to his tower and ask him to join us here as soon as possible.”

Tournak left and Saxthor barely had time to don his palace robes when Chatra Rakmar knocked and entered.

“Your Majesty, I know you’re exhausted from your trip, but representatives from the nobility are in the great hall requesting an immediate audience. It seems they will not be delayed.”

“Very well,” Saxthor said. He sighed. “Belnik, if you will, have some food prepared and lay out my uniform for the afternoon meeting. I’ll need the military commander’s uniform for that gathering since the discussion will be heated and about the defense plans for the city and kingdom. I’ll need to look impressive, strong, and reassuring.”

“As you say, Majesty. You’re exhausted; can’t the nobles wait?”

“It appears not. They’re frightened; they’ve never known a threat on their doorsteps in their lifetimes. Their estates and palaces are at risk, their lives if they think about it. They want reassurance I’ll be able to defend them and their world.”

“They’re selfish to demand you wait on their needs at the risk of your own health.”

“Well, that is the position and responsibility of the monarch, isn’t it? I’m the one they hold responsible for their safety and that of their world.”

Belnik lifted the heavy state robe embroidered with the family’s coat of arms and other emblems of the king’s power. He withdrew the Crown of Yensupov from its vault and placed it securely on his head, as no other man could touch it and live. He strapped on his jeweled court scabbard, inserting Sorblade into it with a snap.

“Everything in order?” Saxthor asked Belnik.

“Your Majesty looks magnificent and most imposing,” Belnik said, standing back, his hand under his chin, checking the king from head to toe.

“Well, I’ll be off to this showdown with the aristocracy.”

As Saxthor entered the grand audience hall of Helshian Court Palace, the chamberlain clacked his staff on the floor. The nobles, milling about in twos and threes, rushed before the throne when Saxthor took his seat.

“We are told your graces wish to speak with us about the defense of the kingdom,” Saxthor said.

“Your Majesty,” a senior duke began. “We wish to welcome you home and to request that you inform us as to the defensive measures you plan to take to secure the safety of all our estates.”

“Thank you for your greeting,” Saxthor said. “As for the defense of the kingdom, we are soon to be attacked from the north by overwhelming forces from Dreaddrac and from equally overwhelming forces from the south, from the Powterosian Empire.”

The nobles were stunned and chattered to each other for a moment.

“But Your Majesty,” another noble said. “How can we resist either force? Perhaps we should capitulate and sue for peace?”

“You seek to save your estates at the cost of your freedom and the lives of the people?” Saxthor asked, sitting forward on his throne, furrowing his brows above a frown set to intimidate.

“There must be peace, Majesty. We are not equipped to resist either Dreaddrac or the Powterosian Empire.”

“Well, we say we must try.” Saxthor said. He sat back on his throne with a sneer. Gentlemen, Neuyokkasin is our home; we must defend it. While lives will be lost, we must be prepared to sacrifice some for the good of all. We will not have this kingdom enslaved or slaughtered to save your estates.” There was great mumbling in the hall. “Now there is to be no more talk of surrender. Go to your estates and prepare to move into the city with your goods and to defend the walls to the death if necessary.”

There was more grumbling among the lords which Saxthor tolerated for a moment. Then the members of the aristocracy bowed to the king and backed out of the audience hall. Saxthor went to his private apartments and returned the Crown of Yensupov to its vault. There was a knock at the door and Belnik entered with a tray.

“Please eat something, Your Majesty.”

Saxthor sat at a table and his devoted valet fixed him a plate. As he began to eat, another knock came at the door.

“Enter,” Saxthor said.

Memlatec and Tournak joined him.

Saxthor rose and went to greet his old mentor and advisor who’d saved him from his aunt’s assassination attempts in his youth. “It’s been too long, Memlatec. How are you?”

“I’m well, Your Majesty. Tournak has enlightened me as to your actions so far to assemble an army here. I doubt you can make it to the border in time, or if you have the resources coming to defy the emperor.”

“I dispatched half the garrison from Hoya the moment I received your ornsmak. They should arrive any day now. I sent the troops I could spare from Favriana and Heedra as well, both started before I left the cities. They should arrive about the same time. General Socockensmek had the legions brought from Hyemka to Heedra and those combined forces are fast approaching behind me. When they reach here all the available legions, seven I think, should be ready to march after a day’s rest. Depending on where the imperial army is now, we might still prevent them from crossing the border. I grant you, it does look hopeless, seven legions against at least twenty, but I have to try. Our best chance is to stop them in the mountain pass. We can’t hope to defeat them on the open plain between the border and Konnotan.”

“I’ve been able to send watchers south to create some confusion in the imperial army,” Memlatec said. Also, we’re in luck since reports tell me that the army has halted, waiting for the emperor to arrive for the spectacle. It seems he wants the satisfaction of watching his army overwhelm whatever feeble defenses Neuyokkasin can mount on such short notice. Emperor Engwan is arrogant; he doesn’t anticipate much resistance. He’s confident his forces will overwhelm Neuyokkasin quickly.”

“Well, arrogance and overconfidence will make him vulnerable,” Saxthor said.

“But Saxthor,” Tournak said, “even if you could hold back the army, they can wait you out. You can’t afford to leave the northern border garrisons depleted with Dreaddrac’s legions massing for attack at any time.”

“I don’t intend to leave the northern fortresses under staffed long,” Saxthor said. “I intend to defeat the Grand Imperial Army decisively and quickly, then turn in a forced march and reinforce those garrisons.”

Belnik moved away to straighten whatever he could find. Delia whimpered at the mounting tension and dropped to the floor, lying flat as she could. Twiddle, the only one not shying away at the plan, bobbed excitedly on Saxthor’s shoulder.

“Defeat the Grand Imperial Army?” Tournak repeated.

“Tournak, you remember the map we looked at at Hoya?”

“Yes, the map with the gradients.” Tournak said. He glanced at Memlatec who now stared at him with luminous violet eyes, then turned back to Saxthor like a child who let slip he broke the cookie jar.

“Map of the energy gradients?” Memlatec said. His voice was deep; his eyes remained fixed on Tournak. “What map of the energy gradients?”

“Well, you see, I was working in the wizard’s tower at Hoya when I came across a parchment with a spell …”

“Parchment!” Memlatec repeated, his whole body leaning forward. “You didn’t mention a parchment with a map of the energy gradients. There is only one source of such a document.”

“Yes, well it has the High Wizard of Wizards’ Hall’s seal and signature on it,” Tournak said, turning red.

“Where is it?” Memlatec snapped. “It disappeared from the Wizards Hall at the end of the last wizard war. The High Wizard was distraught when he was unable to find it before he went into the west. We all thought it lost.”

Looking sheepish, Tournak fumbled inside his blouse and withdrew the paper he’d held next to his person on the trip down river from Hoya. Hesitating for a moment, he handed it to Memlatec who snatched it; his brow furrowed, frowning at his assistant.

“This is most dangerous,” Memlatec said.

Tournak squirmed. “You were in such a hurry to get here; I didn’t have time to mention it.”

Memlatec looked over the document with glaring eyes. “I’ll keep this,” Memlatec said. Tournak nodded agreement, but Saxthor noted little enthusiasm and some reluctance to part with the document.

“I don’t know about this thing,” Saxthor said, “but I need to know about that intersecting energy gradient in the mountains along the border with the empire. Tournak said it shows on the map as a yellow warping. What does it mean and where is it? Is it at that old Occintoc fortress you mentioned when I was young?”

“It is indeed, but you must avoid that site entirely,” Memlatec insisted, staring now at Saxthor. “That yellow warping is a primal warning. When that fortress was built, no one knew about the confluence of the energy gradients there. The fortress was built, but in their digging and tunneling later, the builders opened and tapped into the gradients and released something that guards the energy convergence. There’s something primal, something incredibly powerful and menacing there. It could destroy more than you know if it’s disturbed. The garrison there was wiped out to a man. No one has returned to the fortress, fearing to disturb the thing beneath the ruins.”

“You took me there once, Memlatec, when I was a trainee,” Tournak said.

“Yes, and if you remember, I warned you then never to return there or to disturb the place. It’s an entire garrison’s tomb.”