Dreamwielder (25 page)

“Their strength lies in their navy,” Parmo explained. “They will look to attack with their eastern fleet by sea and come at us through Kal Pyrthin Bay. If they get past the Pyrthin navy, they will lay siege to the city and send their ships up the river to attack Kylep.”

“And capture us in a vice,” the King added.

“How many men do you mean to leave behind to hold Kal Pyrthin?” another of the advisors asked.

“I mean to leave none behind but the city watch.”

The advisors looked at the King incredulously, but Casstian did not balk.

“This is not the time for conservative tactics. We'll need every able-bodied person we can muster if we hope to stand against Sargoth. The fate of our city lies in the hands of our navy, and Prince Parmenios. He knows the tactics of the Valarion navy better than any and is familiar with the waters at the southern edge of the bay. I am putting him in charge of our naval force.”

Parmo nodded as all their eyes turned upon him. His thoughts, as they did often, returned to Makarria. After freeing Casstian, he had asked the King to let him lead the search for the airship, but Casstian was convinced Taera and Makarria had been abducted by the Emperor. “The only way to get them back is to take Col Sargoth,” he had said and so Parmo stayed.
I don't know where Makarria is,
he told himself for the hundredth time.
This is all I can do to aid her: help defeat Guderian.
He steeled his resolve again and spoke to the men gathered around Casstian.

“I will do all in my power to keep your city safe. At worst, we will keep the Valarion fleet floundering at the edge of the bay for months, but I mean to do more than that. Pyrthinia and Valaróz have always been allies, even during the Dreamwielder War, when all the other kingdoms were at war with one another. I mean to make them allies again. Just as you are all loyal Pyrthinians and have fought to free your king, so too are the Valarions loyal and proud of their kingdom. They have no love for the usurper Don Bricio, but they have had no one to unite and lead them. Until now. I will declare my rightful claim to the throne of Valaróz, and if Don Bricio has the courage to face me, I will cut him down.”

“Courage is not the way of Don Bricio,” Casstian remarked. “Always he has resorted to secrecy and treachery. He will not face you but rather renounce your claim as false and scheme to murder you by some nefarious means. He will lie, bribe, blackmail, and kill to make people do his bidding. You risk much if you declare yourself.”

“We all risk much, and as you said yourself, this is not the time for conservative tactics.”

“So be it,” Casstian conceded.

“Your Majesty?” a wiry man spoke from the outer edge of the circle of advisors. Few of the others had hardly even noticed he was there until he spoke. “If I may…”

“Of course, speak your mind, Leone,” Casstian told him.

“If the prince means to declare himself, then we could use it more to our benefit,” Leone said. “There is little hope for surprise regardless. The houndkeeper escaped upon your rescue, Your Majesty, and Guderian no doubt has other spies in the city. He will know before long that we are mobilizing for war so why try to hide it? Let us all declare ourselves. We are not alone in our hatred of Guderian. Others may join us. I can spread the rumor through the city that Prince Parmenios Pallma has returned to reclaim his throne. The news will spread like wildfire. I will send messengers to Pyrvino, Tyrna, Makady, and Kylep. I have loyal men and women who will go from there to spread the word into the other realms. Let the people of Valaróz know their prince has returned. Let the people of Sargoth know that Pyrthinia has declared war and means to free all the Five Kingdoms from the tyranny of Guderian. We might just find that we have many allies out there, both big and small. At the worst, Guderian and his lapdog Don Bricio will have their hands full keeping their subjects scared into submission.”

Casstian pursed his lips thoughtfully for a long moment before responding. “Do it,” he said, finally. “As you say, Leone, we have little hope of secrecy anyhow. And if nothing else, it will make your task somewhat more feasible, Parmenios. The people of Valaróz will be more inclined to believe your claim if they have already heard rumor of you.”

Parmo smiled. “I like it.”

“Done then,” Leone said, slipping back into the shadows of the assembled group.

“Very well,” Casstian said. “Leone and Parmenios, you have your tasks before you. The rest of us will make way to Kylep with our ground forces. We will strike Lepig first, and if all goes well, march on Weordam. If we move fast, we can bottle Guderian's troops up on the high road through Forest Weorcan.”

“What of Golier and Norgland?” one of the advisors asked.

Another of the advisors answered. “King Lorimer of Golier will be first to come to Sargoth's aid after Valaróz. It is too late in the year for Lorimer to send troops through the mountain passes though. All he can do is send troops by ship to bolster the forces massed at Col Sargoth. As for Norgland and King Hanns, we needn't worry about them yet. If we are able to march on Col Sargoth, they may pose a problem, but that is all. Hanns's loyalty to Guderian is questionable. He won't risk sending their ships around the northern cape at this time of the year. The same is true of the western Valarion fleet and Golier's navy. They are of no concern until spring at the earliest, and even then they would have to voyage for many months to reach Kal Pyrthin Bay.”

“For good or ill, this war will be over by then, I think,” Casstian said. “I don't mean to throw Pyrthinia into an extended war. We are risking everything and making a sprint for Col Sargoth.”

All the advisors were silent for a long moment as the gravity of the King's words sunk in.

“And what of Wulfram?” Tharon asked at last. “Do we have no plan to contest him?”

No one was fain to hope they could defeat Wulfram, and none had the answer.

“What plan is there for one of his likes?” Casstian asked.

“Perhaps there are more sorcerers in hiding?” one of the advisors asked. “We used to provide safe harbor to them. They might help.”

Casstian shook his head. “Even if there are any sorcerers still alive in the realm and supposing we could find them, they wouldn't help—not after what Wulfram did to those girls in our very courtyard. We're on our own, I'm afraid.”

“Let us be preemptive at least,” Tharon said. “We can be vigilant. We can place archers with the advanced scouts, solely for the purpose of espying him. If we can see him coming when he is in raven form before he reaches our main force, perhaps we can catch him unawares and shoot him down.”

“Yes, you are right,” Casstian agreed. “Do it. Put together small teams and we will split them up. We'll send some forward with the scouts, but let's take your plan further. Wulfram poses the most danger if he comes upon us when we're gathered in mass. He can kill hundreds with one fell swoop. We'll move our troops in segments so that we never have our forces massed in one place except during battle. He will be less prone to attack then, for fear of killing his own troops. We'll place teams of archers in each regiment, with the sole purpose of defending against Wulfram if he should attack. Is there more we can do than that?”

No one had anything to add.

“Very well then,” Casstian said. “You all know what to do. Let's get to work.”​

Though it was nearing midnight, Natarios Rhodas was admitted immediately to Emperor Guderian's private study high in the easternmost of the five towers of Lightbringer's Keep. Natarios was bedraggled and muddy and near exhaustion, but he knew his news could not wait. He had made it to Col Sargoth from Kal Pyrthin in an astounding fourteen days, taking a new horse as often as he could manage in the towns and cities he passed through and riding at least four of the poor animals to death. He was not overly fond of riding in the saddle, but his fear that King Casstian would send men after him to keep him from reaching the Emperor was enough motivation to keep him pushing on each day long after he would have stopped otherwise.

The Emperor's quarters occupied the uppermost five levels of the eastern tower, and the study was on the lowest of the five. It was a large, semi-circular room, not nearly as warm and inviting as King Casstian's study in Natarios's estimation. A cast iron heating stove stood at the center of the room and around it were an assortment of rigid, high-backed wooden chairs. At the far end of the room was a balcony, though the doors and curtains were shut at this hour. To Natarios's immediate left, next to the door through which he had just entered, was a strange scaffold-like structure rising up from the floor and through a square opening in the ceiling. A strange grating noise began emanating from the opening as Natarios stood there, and suddenly there was a deafening release of steam spurting down toward him.

Natarios leapt back with a yelp as the steam billowed around him. The smell of heavy oil nearly gagged him, and the grating noise grew louder. A platform dropped slowly through the opening, and when the steam finally cleared Natarios stood facing the Emperor. Guderian wore a sleeveless leather cuirass—exposing his heavily muscled shoulders and arms—and tight fitting leather trousers with a bulging steel codpiece.
If those are his nightclothes, I shudder to think what he wears by day,
Natarios thought.

“Natarios Rhodas,” the Emperor said, stepping from the platform of his lift. “Why are you here and not in Kal Pyrthin as you should be?”

“I'm afraid that Casstian has been freed, Your Excellency,” Natarios said with an apologetic bow of his head. “I do not know much, as I was barely able to escape with my life, but his commanders, it seems, acted of their own accord. They snuck into the keep in the night, tried to kill me, freed the King, and seized our tower. Otherwise, I would have sent a raven, of course.”

Guderian's expression did not change, but Natarios could see the muscles bulging in his jaw. “You best sit and tell me everything,” he said.

Natarios waited for the Emperor to sit first, then took a seat beside the heating stove across from him. He told the Emperor everything, from waking in the night and going down to the larder, to his escape from the keep, to his discovery that his men and the scent-hound in the tower had been killed, to his hasty flight from Kal Pyrthin. When he was done, the Emperor merely stared past him for a long time.

“Your pet has done as well as could be expected, I suppose,” the Emperor said finally.

Natarios frowned, confused by the Emperor's words. “I don't understand—” he started to say, but a hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder from behind, and he jumped to his feet with a startled yelp only to see Wulfram standing there behind his chair.
Shite!
he swore inwardly.
How did he get in here without me hearing or seeing him?

“Sit down and be silent,” Wulfram said.

Still unnerved, Natarios took a seat well away from the sorcerer.

“He is a coward but a useful one,” Wulfram said of Natarios to the Emperor.

“You heard all he said?” Guderian asked.

“Yes. The death of our scent-hound in Kal Pyrthin is most unfortunate. It makes our task very difficult now. I will go there and put an end to Casstian once and for all, if it is your desire.”

“Not yet, I think. Where have you been? What have you found out about the prince?”

Wulfram stepped away from the stove into the deeper shadows of the room. “As the Prince's captain revealed to you, there is a passageway beneath a loose flagstone in the prince's room,” he said. “I found his liaison dead in the tunnel beneath the room and beyond that discovered a network of caves and tunnels beneath the keep that lead to the city sewers beyond. The prince could have escaped through any number of drains and pipes leading to the streets.”

“That is of little help.”

“I think it was not the first time he used the passageway though. And I found the tracks of at least one other person. They led through the sewers to a cellar beneath a warehouse. There was a meeting of some sort there and a fight. The walls were scorched, and one wall was completely collapsed. It was the work of a sorcerer.”

“That would account for the activity our houndkeeper detected before the prince's escape,” the Emperor said. “It was in the northeastern borough, yes?”

“Indeed. And what's more, it was less than a hundred yards from The Thirsty Whale.”

“Where the prince's brother was killed,” the Emperor mused. “Perhaps the rumors are true then. One of the sorcerer's guilds has reformed. Do you suppose then that the prince joined up with them?”

“That is my belief, yes. Perhaps he told them of his sister, hoping that they would help protect the two of them.”

“They think she is the one.”

“Likely,” Wulfram agreed.

“Well, let them continue thinking it. She's gone and of little concern.”

“There's more,” Wulfram added. “It may be nothing, but I have heard rumors of the airship again.”

The mention of the airship put Natarios's hair on end.
Roanna,
he recalled.
Does Wulfram know?
He shrank back further into his chair. It occurred to him briefly that he could tell them of his meeting with Roanna, but he quickly dismissed the thought.
They would flay me alive if they knew.

“The timing does not coincide,” Wulfram went on, “but there were sightings of a strange flying object rising from Forrest Weorcan beyond the high road leading south. It is possible this sorcerer or other members of the guild went after the princess.”

“Let them have her. She's of no concern to me—little more than a half-witted seer.”

“Do not be so sure, Your Excellency,” Wulfram warned. “She is not the one, but her fate may be linked to the other. We still know too little to take the princess lightly. She may very well lead us to the one we seek.”