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47


~ LINNA ~


Brother Rennus, the Commander, and General Alric sat with the Empress around the map table when Linna entered with the Empress’s evening tea. If she’d known they were all going to be here, she would have brought more, but only two steaming mugs balanced on her tray – a sweet, floral tea from the Empress’s own stock, and, for the Commander, an earthier brew Linna had managed to find within the haphazard mess of supplies that had been dumped into the storeroom off the kitchen when Third Division had arrived to occupy the castle.

Brother Rennus was speaking when Linna entered, and he did not pause or look up as she came in. The Commander looked up, though. She eyed Linna with a hint of suspicion, as if she could still smell the sewer on her, despite the fact that Linna had changed clothes since returning from the tunnel.

Or perhaps the Commander wasn’t looking at her suspiciously at all. Perhaps Linna was being paranoid. Either way, Linna avoided the Commander’s eyes and focused on the tray of tea.

“…which certainly suggests something is afoot,” Brother Rennus concluded, gesturing at the map.

There were blocks around Pellon that hadn’t been there the last time Linna had seen the map, blocks that represented the forces of the tribesmen. One block sat in between the jagged lines that represented the Sunrise Mountains and the cloud-shaped lines that represented the forest that stretched from Pellon to Reit. That block had to be less than ten miles southeast of Pellon. A second block was situated to the north, between Pellon and the Imperial Army’s old winter camp. That block, Linna knew, marked the place where mountain men were suspected to be massing. The place where the Commander would be headed come dawn.

Linna set the mugs of tea in front of the Empress and the Commander, then backed up, standing discreetly in the corner of the room like a proper guard ought to during a discussion that didn’t involve her.

“We always knew the maggots crawlin’ away from Pellon might be a trap,” said General Alric. “If yer right, Brother, then they’re crawlin’ back.” He glanced between the Empress and the Commander. “I say, let ’em. Mountain men ain’t never been good at siegin’ Imperial cities, an’ they ain’t never faced a city with the entire Imperial Army inside it. Let ’em try. They’ll break against Pellon’s walls like ocean waves against rocks.”

The Commander, no longer looking at Linna, nodded in agreement.

The Empress only stared at the map impassively. Her fingers were laced together beneath her chin, and it seemed to Linna that was the only way she was able to hold up her exhausted head. She’d recovered from the illness that had struck on the journey to Pellon. Mostly. She still woke up congested each morning, coughing through the end of her morning meal. And by this time of day, the hour or two before she went to bed, she looked more like someone who had marched through the cold all day in bare feet than a person safe and warm inside a castle.

Brother Rennus wasn’t studying the map. He studied the Empress. “We could wait, yes. But we could also strike preemptively. Start by poisoning them, like we’d considered doing in Bawold. Except this time, we taint their food supply. It’s winter; they must be running low, just like we are. Which means it’s a good bet that each of their camps would have some kind of central stock of food for rationing purposes, like us.”

We’re running low on food?Linna wondered, somewhat shocked to hear Brother Rennus say it.

She hadn’t heard that before, and the storeroom next to the kitchen had looked full enough to her when she’d gone to fetch the tea. But then again, Pellon now teemed with close to thirty thousand soldiers. Like General Alric said, it was almost the entire Imperial Army. The only part of the army that wasn’t inside Pellon’s walls were those troops guarding the outposts along the Emperor’s Road in order to protect the overland supply route between the East and the Capital Lands.

“Aye, poison ’em,” General Alric said. “I like that plan. Kill the lot of ’em that way.”

“Perhaps,” Brother Rennus said, but it was ponderous, doubtful. He turned his gaze to the ceiling, as though he might be working through a complex mathematical equation. “To create the quantity and potency of poison it would take to eliminate both groups of mountain men – and given the limited ingredients and equipment on hand for such an endeavor – would be challenging. But I think we should be able to contaminate their food in a way that will at least weaken one of these two camps. A warrior struck with sudden illness is a weak warrior, and a weak warrior is an enemy who will fall easily.”

“Only understood ’bout a third o’ what ye just said, Brother,” said General Alric. “What I heard was we make ’em sick, then take ’em out. Tell me again how many tribesmen yer beastwalkers said are down by the forest?”

“Roughly three thousand.”

“Alright,” General Alric said with a nod. “Three thousand mountain men sick as dogs. I say we could take ’em out with a single brigade.”

The Empress had been listening carefully to the exchange between her top Brother and top General. She turned once more to the map. “Why poison? Why not simply send enough troops to root them out without poison?”

The Commander spoke up. “Because I’ll be taking two brigades north at dawn, and if Alric takes another brigade south, then the city will already be down to about two-thirds strength. If the tribesmen did plan a trap for us here, we want as much of our army present to defend Pellon as possible.”

“Still,” the Empress said, frowning. “I prefer knowing Alric has an undeniable numerical advantage.”

“Aye, but that’s what the poison’s for,” said General Alric. “Negates the numerical advantage, keeps more of our soldiers here.”

“Can one of your beastwalkers manage the task?” the Empress asked. “Sneak into their camps, poison the food supply?”

Brother Rennus made a face like a grimace. “First, Empress, I think we should target one of the two camps. We will be stretched thin to make enough poison for one camp, let alone two. Since the Commander was already planning to take two brigades with her, I think we should focus on undermining only the tribesmen to the southeast. But as for a beastwalker completing the task, alas, this is why I suggested someone else for this mission before, your Majesty. The Brotherhood has made significant progress in the art of beastwalking just in my lifetime. Our best beastwalkers no longer need to strip bare; they can transform from fully dressed humans to the animal of their specialty. Then they can transform back, clothes and all, without a thread out of place. So we know it is possible to bring something outside the physical body into the transformation. But a flask of poison has a delicate chemistry. It is not so simple as a robe or tunic. Poison cannot be transformed.”

“Who said transform poison?” General Alric asked. “Let ’em transform into their rat or dog or crow, then lash the flask o’ poison onto ’em.” He shrugged as though it was obvious.

“It’s… not so simple as all that,” Brother Rennus said. “In fact, there are two distinct issues at play. First, the types of animals our beastwalkers can transform into – the rats, dogs, and crows you mention, amongst others – are not so large that they can carry the amount of poison we require. A dog could, perhaps, but it would certainly be conspicuous to see a stray mutt wander into a camp who just happened to have a waterskin of poison dangling from his neck. And then the task of adding poison to a stewpot while remaining in dog form?” He made a face. “I do not think it is the right solution, General.”

“So that’s a no,” the Empress said. “Beastwalkers cannot be used for this particular effort.”

“I would not say it is a no per se. It is a … I think I should prefer to check with my most skilled beastwalker before giving a definitive answer,” Brother Rennus said after a moment’s hesitation. “I am personally more experienced with skinwalking than beastwalking, so I would prefer to consult with other Brothers.”

Linna thought she saw the Commander’s jaw subtly flex. The Commander had a strong distaste for the shadow arts in general, but Linna knew she particularly hated skinwalking. It reminded the Commander too much of the times the undatai had attempted to control her.

“Fine,” said General Alric. “I’ll find one o’ me boys who can do it.”

“If,” Brother Rennus said, holding up a finger, “my best beastwalker says it is impossible for him to accomplish.”

“When can you have the poison ready?” the Empress asked.

“It will take me a few hours to create, your Majesty,” replied Brother Rennus. “And the particular formula I’m thinking of will take anywhere from thirty minutes to two hours to reach its peak effect once ingested. So rather than ask how soon the poison can be ready, I would turn the question back to you and ask how soon your brigade can be prepared to march.”

The Empress turned to Alric.

“One hour, Highness,” he said, holding up one thick finger. “Give us an hour’s notice, an’ we’ll have a brigade out the gate.”

“I still prefer that the General takes two brigades,” the Empress said.

“Empress –” started the Commander.

Brother Rennus spoke before the Commander could continue. “Frankly, the Empress might be right. Two brigades would be wiser. I am a competent poisoner, but creating such a large quantity is sure to dilute the potency. We want to ensure victory, and two brigades is more likely to ensure it than one.”

The Commander and General Alric looked prepared to argue, but the Empress nodded. “Two brigades, General.”

“Two brigades gives us numbers,” General Alric said, “but two brigades north, two brigades south… Majesty, that’s a third of our troops outta the city. Ye won’t have nothin’ but fifteen, twenty thousand left with that pampered ol’ sod Ambrose to hold down Pellon.”

“Which is far more than enough to defend the city once the threats north and south are eliminated,” said Brother Rennus in a way that suggested the argument had been settled.

“Two brigades, General,” the Empress repeated.

“Aye, Majesty,” said General Alric reluctantly.

“I’m more than comfortable with knowing we have close to twenty thousand inside Pellon’s walls to defend the city against an enemy who is notoriously bad at siege warfare,” the Empress added.

“Aye, Majesty.”

“So it’s settled. Shall I take my leave to begin preparing the poison?” asked Brother Rennus. “If I start now, we can send it out in the middle of the night, either with a beastwalker or one of General Alric’s spies. We should be able to poison the tribesmen’s morning meal. And the Quanca Carin always eat right at dawn, which means that by the time the General’s brigades arrive an hour or two after sunrise, the poison will be at its peak effectiveness.”

“Good,” the Empress said. “You’re dismissed to begin your task, Brother Rennus.” She finished her tea with two more long swallows, and Linna, ever the astute observer, left her corner to pick the tea tray back up.

“Oi, Linna,” General Alric said as she placed the empty mugs on the tray and headed towards the door, “ye mind bringin’ me somethin’ back from the kitchens? Maybe some o’ that hot cider, if there’s any left? Regular ale’ll do if the cider’s drunk up.”

Linna nodded.


Tags: Eliza Andrews Fantasy