The Vitalis Chronicles: Steps of Krakador (29 page)

Her brother's nightly councils brought in little new information. The scouts reported nothing to be found in any direction, no sign of the enemy in any form. The maps of the north were old and often conflicting. The location of Krakador was listed in three different places according to ten maps, and even among the ones that agreed, there were significant differences as to the lay of the land. The lack of scouting activity from the other side also led to a broad difference in opinion among her brother's tribunes.

Some believed they were walking into a trap, being monitored from afar and allowed to progress as far as they had. Others saw it as a glistening opportunity.

“
He's making the same arrogant mistake he made last time,” Sir Beldin consistently put forward. “We haven't seen any sign of the enemy's forces for months on our patrols. He's sufficiently convinced that we've been cowed, and he moves to strike Veria in the east. This is our opportunity to flank him and catch him unawares.”

“
Surely he must know we still have a strong fighting force,” Hembrody would counter. “He is not nearly so blind as we would like to believe him to be. We are walking straight into the gaping jaws of the dragon.”

The reference to dragons always hung heavy in the air; they all feared the possibility of running into the monsters. They were rare, but reputed to be near unstoppable, giving even the Magi a lethal challenge during the war of their past. They were largely believed to have been scattered after the Relequim's defeat, but even if he managed to gather just a few to his cause, they could wreak havoc on the soldiers of Islenda.

The baggage train and supply lines were becoming problematic already as well. The tribunes who controlled the territory up until this point had been able to stockpile supplies in advance along their route, permitting them to resupply as they marched without the need to slow or forage for food. It also meant that the army's quartermasters had supply caches they could work on bringing towards the front from a shorter distance, and left a good emergency supply along their route in case they needed to retreat.

The immediate problem facing them was that many local farmers resented being forced to hand over their own reserves, and some were refusing their own nobility. This didn't bode well for their longer-term problem, which was that the farther they drew out their supply line, the more vulnerable it became to an attack. This was an issue that most wished to gloss over, but Rendin returned to it regularly, especially concerned with a potentially unruly population.

“
Your Majesty, we haven't even seen a solitary enemy soldier during our entire march.” Sir Theddalt was ever the optimist, Rain was coming to realize. “What risk could there possibly be?”

“
If our supply line is disrupted, or worse, is destroyed, we'll run out of food in a matter of days.” Rendin repeated the problem yet again as if barely holding onto his temper.

“
We will forage, your Highness. Surely our men are capable of finding their own food.”

“
An army of this size cannot simply forage for food where we are headed,” Rain finally stepped in, unable to listen to any more ignorance.

Theddalt was visibly taken aback. “Excuse me, young lady, but we are of course speaking of matters of
war.
This isn't a pack of children we are attempting to usher home from the Temple ceremonies.”

Chuckles rolled around the room until Rendin glared at Theddalt. “My sister is, of course, correct in her assertion.”

“
We have forty thousand men, sir.” Rain continued unfazed. “Ten thousand horses. That doesn't include the cooks, smiths, craftsmen, camp followers, or work animals. There are probably close to seventy thousand mouths to feed wandering into the barren wastes with us. Have you been to the barren wastes, Sir Theddalt?”

Theddalt set his jaw, then shook his head. His land was so far south she wondered if he had ever been north of Islenda.

“
It's called the barren wastes for a reason, sir. And our end goal is somewhere in the desert mountains, also not named with any sense of irony. We won't only run out of food in a matter of days, but will starve for inability to find it in any form around us.”

Theddalt muttered something under his breath about women knowing their place, but kept his thoughts to himself as Rendin continued to speak.

“
I need a volunteer to guard the train,” he said as he looked from one man to the next. “There is little apparent glory in such an assignment, but without our supplies we are lost from the start.”

It was no surprise to Rain that no one volunteered outright for the task. What came as a surprise was who eventually did.

“
My house and I shall accept your call, your Majesty.” Sir Hembrody stepped forward and laid his hand on the table. “I understand that success rides on so important a task, and am willing to see it through to the end.”

Rain would have rejected the offer outright if she had the authority.
Why is he doing this?
The cowardice of Branston rang in her mind, his insistence on staying behind to avoid a fight prevalent until his attempt to murder Ardin. He hadn't volunteered for anything but guard duty until that fateful journey into enemy territory. Now his father wished to remain behind as well.

She looked at her brother, pleading as subtly as her eyes would speak not to permit the old man to guard the train.
Keep him close brother, keep your eye on him.

“
Thank you Hembrody,” Rendin nodded his consent. “But your house is too large and contributes far too many swords to be placed on duty in the rear. You are needed at the front, as always.”

Hembrody smiled. Perhaps he was simply looking for validation of his importance. The thought almost made Rain relax.

“
I insist, your Highness.” Hembrody lowered his head. “I would give you direct command of half my men; the rest I would keep with me. This should be an agreeable number, and there are none you can count on more than me to keep the supply line straight and flowing.”

Everything seemed wrong with this. Even the rest of the tribunes seemed ill at ease with the arrangement, though she knew it was his assertion of his superiority over them that was eating at most of them. But that hardly bothered Rain in the slightest. It was expected that Hembrody would think himself above the rest. It was his willingness to give her brother half of his men to command that scared her half to death.

Rendin took a long pause, the concerns Rain held reflecting subtly on his brow. She knew he sensed a snare as much as she did, but she could also see his inability to refuse the offer staring him plain in the face. Especially with no one else stepping forward. He was trapped.

“
Very well, Sir Hembrody. I give you the train.” Rain could feel the blood drain from her face as her brother said the words. “Please stay after the council is over to arrange the transfer of your troops to my commanders.”

T
WENTY

P
OMPIDUS
M
ERODACH COULDN'T HELP BUT LAUGH AS HIS MEN CLEARED THE ROOM
, killing every member of the Council in the process. Things couldn't have gone much better for him. The Relequim's attempt to silence him had been thwarted by Keaton's ill-fated push for justice. The treacherous Gredge had finally been taught a lasting lesson with a bullet through the skull, and the Council's seditious tendencies would be forever put to rest. Everyone had shown their true colors, and in one fell swoop, he had managed to secure an unbreakable grip on Elandir.

There would be a mess to clean up, to be sure. The City Guard would take convincing, but he had called for the Western Battalion to be brought in and secure the peace. The citizens would need to be addressed, their Council openly demonized, and Keaton would have to die a traitor rather than a hero.

Where is Anders anyways?
Merodach looked around the room, unable to find the Hunter anywhere. “Hey!” He yelled at one of the soldiers in plain clothes that was shoving people out of the room. “Where's Anders? Have him brought back in here!”

“
Sir!” The man disappeared to look for Keaton.

“
And someone get me out of this God-forsaken cage!”

It took a painfully long time to get out of the cage. The light infantry from the Western Battalion had done a fantastic job infiltrating the crowd with their weapons, but were having a more difficult time controlling and expelling them now that they had revealed themselves. The last of the Council members was executed in the corner before someone found the keys and let Merodach out. He stood, stepped out of the cage, and stretched.

“
It's gonna be a long day...” he said as a soldier handed him a cigar.

“
Sir, Anders isn't in the building.”

“
What?!” Merodach about exploded, biting down through his cigar without realizing it. “What do you mean he's not in the building? I saw your boys grab him just like I asked! He's supposed to hang tomorrow!”

“
He's gone, sir. We found some of our own dead around the premises, necks broken or throats slit. Looks like Khrone's got to him first.”

Merodach spiked his broken cigar on the floor in a rage, his mouth spewing a long line of tobacco-laced expletives that made the soldiers around him blush. Eventually he stood between them, breathing heavily, staring at his broken cigar on the ground. “Well find him! They have to make their exit, and it won't be to the north. Alert the gates, and for the love of God don't let them escape alive!”

The Mayor didn't have time to waste, however. His plans had gone smoothly enough up to this point, and he couldn't stop for every bump in the road. “Get me to my office, and tell your commander to join me there. He's gonna have a lot on his plate now that Lucius is dead.”

“
What about Rast, sir?”

The mention of the Premiere cemented Merodach's scowl on his face for a moment. “Just let him be; he's injured and frail enough as it is.”

It didn't take long to get to his office, but finding whoever had taken control of the forces near Liscentia in Lucius' place was a convoluted mess. Lucius hadn't left a clear line of succession, as it seemed his ranking officers were with him when he died. The man who seemed to be in control now was a quartermaster, a logistician who was as scared of a fight as he was of an imbalanced inventory. Merodach told him to organize the troops to march, and assured him that relief was on the way. Securing Liscentia and the coastline were his priorities. He just hoped that the stupid bastard didn't muck it up in the next twenty-four hours.

“
Sir.” A tall colonel appeared in his office almost immediately after he was off the phone. The purple lining at the hems of his uniform marked him for the Western Battalion. “Colonel Cram reporting, sir.”

Colonel Cram? Good God, where do they dig these morons up?
Merodach shook his head to clear the sarcasm before he actually spoke. “You're in charge... Cram.”

“
Sir?”

“
You're in temporary command of the military, and I'm moving you south immediately.”

“
But sir,” Cram hesitated as his mind worked the pieces together. “My men are here, sir.”

“
Your men are everywhere now, Colonel. And the ones in Liscentia need you the most.”

“
I thought we'd subdued Liscentia, sir.”

Merodach shook his head. He couldn't tell him what he really feared, that the Demon was moving to crush them all. That would be the path to losing credibility he had only just regained. “It's not the desert rats I'm worried about, Cram, it's Silverdale. That horse shit in the courtroom today wasn't entirely inaccurate.”

“
It wasn't, sir?” Cram looked increasingly uncomfortable in his carbon-gray cotton.

“
Not about me, you idiot!” Merodach walked over to the one low table in his office that hadn't been broken and poured himself a drink. “About the Demon influencing people. That much is true. I've seen it, and I've seen how he's going to attack us through Silverdale.”

“
Silverdale doesn't have much in the way of a military though, sir.”

“
Enough of one, and more than we realized.” Merodach drained his glass and poured himself another. It had been too long since he'd been able to get his hands on anything worth drinking. “They think that with Liscentia down we're looking for them by land. But they've got transport ships, hundreds of them, and they're bringing them to the Central Harbor.”

“
Where the Demon first tried to invade? That doesn't make any sense, sir. Why would they bring their army into the harbor by transport ships?”

“
I suppose they're just about as smart as he is.” Merodach walked back to his desk and stared out at the Elandris. “Poetic, in its own way. We need to move immediately to dust off the old guns and make sure the defenses are ready. Just so long as it still looks abandoned.”

“
Then we can lure them in and destroy them in the crossfire.”

“
Precisely,” Merodach turned.
Maybe he's not an idiot after all.