by Mira Zamin
When I returned to my rooms from the dungeons, an odd combination of elation and heaviness percolating through my torso, I was greeted by the sight of dozens of young ladies of impeccable breeding and behavior who rose as they registered my presence. Their faces and bright clothes blended into a mass of color. Taken aback, I sought out the comfortable presences of Reyal and Miri who moved towards me, wearing fine new garb.
“Your Majesty,” Reyal and Miri declared in unison, sweeping polished curtsies. They were hastily mimicked by the coterie of standing young women.
“We are pleased you have recovered from your illness!” exclaimed Miri warmly.
“So pleased!” came a chattering chorus.
Slightly dazed, I asked in a low voice and a tight, plastered-on grin, “Who are they?”
A strained look appeared around Reyal’s black eyes. “They are the new host of ladies-in-waiting sent up by their parents to attend you.”
Seeing the seemingly boundlessly energy betrayed by their fidgeting and twitching, I quickly began to share in Reyal’s fatigue, but unlike her, I could not appear anything but genial. “Welcome to Nyneveh. I apologize my illness has kept me from meeting you all properly.” Turning to Miri, I asked, “Where are Oelphie and Talia?”
“They are not here!” piped up a girl, perhaps a year my junior, with long blond curls.
“Yes!” supplemented another girl, sweeping aside chestnut bangs and darting a sharp look at the blond girl. “They went to the nursery!”
They were already trying to curry favor with me, willing to cut each other to attain my regard. I already had a headache and I knew I would have to deal with their nonsense later.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. To Reyal, I added, “Order a quick bath drawn and have the dark green dress with the wide skirt and silver embroidery pressed.” My memory flashed to the verdant gown that mimicked the green eyes of my former husband. Gwydion’s Pari-made ring still glittered on my finger and after brief deliberation, I let it remain. The time would come when I would consign it to the treasury.
Banishing the thought from my mind, I allowed myself to be hustled through a quick bathing and even as my sore muscles yearned for further moments in the hot water, I was efficiently laced into my emerald gown. Whatever else I could say about the multitude of girls, they certainly knew their work well. After placing the arching crown of Ghalain in my black hair, I, accompanied by a pair of guards and a small retinue of ladies, made my way to the Room of Reflection. It was strange being surrounded by an entourage at all times, but it was an essential part of protocol for a crowned queen of Ghalain while in the Alhazar.
Entering the bright Room of Reflection, a room paneled with sparkling silver mirrors and gilded generously with gold and crystals, I noticed the numerous arms hanging on the walls, the weapons of the past kings and queens of Ghalain. Some, I saw, even emitted the ethereal gleam released only by those rare objects forged by the Pari. My ring was suddenly warm on my finger, as if responding to the presence of its brethren. I was welcomed by a standing group, some of whom I knew quite well, but others, the generals, who were dressed sharply in their dark blue uniforms, were strangers to me. Other than Niara, the generals were older men, with identically shorn hair and well-trimmed beards. Before I could gesture for them to seat themselves, Ferdas rushed to me
Pulling me aside, he asked, “How do you fare your Majesty? How was Aquia? Your family?” He paused. “My father? And Auralia? Gieneve?”
A sudden breath overtook me at the mention of Auralia’s name, but I managed to answer his questions smoothly enough, despite being rather surprised at his unorthodox behavior. “Much better. Aquia was doing well as was my family and your father too.”
“Where did you go after you left Aquia?”
I began noticing the befuddled stares of the generals and I grew uncomfortable. This was not proper behavior for a queen, to leave her War Council waiting as her nation stood on the brink of a war. “Carez,” I answered thoughtlessly, ready to end this conversation quickly.
“Carez?” he repeated. There was something about the spark in his eye I did not like.
At a loss for what to say, I finally replied coldly, “The generals have entered and now we must attend to this pressing business at hand. We can discuss my journey at a later time.”
Finally, I sat down at the head of the table, my back straight in the imperious white chair. As the others sat, I noticed that maps and memos sprawled across the glass tabletop, each marked with provinces and cities of Ghalain: I spotted etchings of Nyneveh, Bahart, Viziéra, Aquia, Darsepol, and Chandon. Most prominently marked was a valley pass between Darsepol and Bahart which would lead to Nyneveh. My finger traced the city.
“Ahem, your Majesty,” rumbled a low voice.
My head whipped up and I snatched my hand away like a naughty child. Embarrassed, I pronounced, “Ah yes. Thank you for joining me today. If the generals would introduce themselves, I would be much obliged.”
The man with the growling voice began. Lanky, with dusky skin and vivid green eyes, he spread his legs out casually beneath the table, drawled, “Beqal Baswor, cavalry, your Majesty.”
“You know me, of course, Queen Selene,” she smiled. “General Niara Sidke, infantry.”
“And I am Admiral Kharset of the navies,” finished a spry old man, with spiky white hair. “In this battle, my particular talents are wasted, but I am ever at your service, your Majesty.”
I smiled politely and stated, “Well, let us get to the business at hand. General Niara, Lord Kershid indicated that you had a great deal to tell me.”
Niara, who had been so confident before, shrank a little, perhaps feeling her junior status. However, she drew herself up again and pulled a map towards her. “Essentially, the combined forces of Viziéra, Chandon, and Darsepol are aligned against us. They, Viziéra in particular, have dipped deeply into their wealth to hire a host of mercenaries.”
“How many?” I inquired.
Admiral Kharset took up the thread of the conversation, his milky blue eyes suddenly sharp. “Viziera boasts 2,000 infantry, 400 cavalry; Darsepol, 1,500 infantry, 500 cavalry, and Chandon 1,000 infantry and 400 cavalry. While Chandon has less soldiers, each Chandonese man is…a weapon. Of the three emirdoms, these have always had the largest and strongest armies. And then they have hired 3,000 mercenaries.”
I quickly did the sums in my head. “So we are facing a total army of 8,800 men?”
Kharset nodded. “Yes, your Majesty. Because of this, they will want the war to be over quickly—I do not foresee them allowing mercenaries to sack the capital for payment.”
“Sack Nyneveh?” I repeated. I had to admit, that military tactics were not my strong suit, but I knew it was important that I be kept apprised of what was occurring.
“Common payment for mercenaries is spoils of the city,” stated Admiral Kharset slowly. “But of course, Quenela wishes to install herself as Queen and desires to engender the people’s good will.”
Taking the potted quail, which smelled strongly of rosemary that Liem passed me, I nodded. His words vaguely conjured up something my tutor had told me, which I had in equally blurry terms outlined to Corec at some point. “And our entire army of course is comprised of 8,000 soldiers, 6,000 foot and 2,000 horse, spread out from the remaining emirdoms as well as Nyneveh’s own force,” I parroted.
Kharset nodded in appreciation. “Precisely, madam.”
“Well I cannot say that I often agree with Quenela…” There was an appreciative chuckle as I proceeded, “But she is right—this war must be quick. My reign is too new, and I am too young, for this to be a long drawn out struggle. Where are they now?”
“As far as our scouts and spies tell us they are here.” Baswor pointed to a thick dark line denoting a valley ridged by steep, jagged mountains, which ran from the edge of Viziéra and spilled out into Bahart, two day’s march away from Nyneveh. “They have fought several battles and fortified their position and are now heading to
wards the Ghazar Pass, between the eastern and western Lariya Mountains.”
“Spies…if we have spies in their camp then surely they have spies in ours,” I realized. “Seasons, since Quenela and Hadil have been in Nyneveh for months they probably have a far more extensive system in place.”
“Doubtless, your Majesty,” agreed Baswor. “However, we have kept our counsel private and frankly, the movements of an army on the march are far easier for spies to discern than confidential councils. Nonetheless, whatever plans we make in this meeting, we cannot reveal until we must.”
“They will want to move as fast as possible to leave the pass. Although it is the quickest route from Viziéra to Nyneveh it also serves the dual purpose of entrapping them within,” Kharset added, with a dangerous glint.
“Ah,” I said, shaking my head in sudden understanding, their plan suddenly crystallizing before me. “You would like to bottleneck them in.”
“Exactly,” said Niara.
“How long of a march is it?” asked Kershid, speaking for the first time. His voice broke the veil which had settled around myself and the generals, and I suddenly remembered the remainder of my War Council.
“From our scouts’ last report, they have about a two-day journey through Ghazar, until they emerge into Bahart and then two day’s march to Nyneveh beyond that,” Baswor answered.
Corrine’s mouth tightened at the mention of her emirdom but said nothing. I could not blame her. War was hard on a land, and after all, Bahart’s wealth was based on its farmers.
Kharset pointed to a small hill inked into the vellum, some miles away from Nyneveh. “If they reach Nyneveh, we expect that they will fortify themselves here. There is a fortress and it is a good place to defend. I doubt Quenela would let herself be drawn out easily and she knows that we could not let them remain unmolested. Of course, we could lay siege, but...”
“But that would draw the matter out too long,” I completed. “Quite right. Is there any other option?”
“We would have to march rapidly, but we may be able to meet them just as they emerge from the pass. A force of a hundred men could hold that pass—and we have thousands. I will not bore you with the details of troop placement, but that is…it,” Niara concluded. “Then again, if we are slowed or if their pace quickens, we would meet them on open terrain.”
Pursing my lips, I concentrated on the hills edging the pass. “What if we were to position two units of cavalry and archers on the eastern and western hills? Cavalry could gallop down the hills to attack the flanks of the army and harry them out of the pass—where the bulk of our army would be awaiting them and archers could cover their backs.”
Baswor shook his head slightly. “It would be a good idea, your Majesty, except that the Lariya Mountains are difficult to ride down—difficult, but our cavalry is good and I have no doubt we could do it—but near impossible to climb up and we would not have the time to reach them. If we can trap them in the pass, we stand a good chance at victory, although if our cavalry could attack their rear the matter would me more expedient.”
A servant ran into the room.
“What is it?” I asked.
The man gulped. “Your Majesty...Emir Fyodor’s army is gone.”
“Gone?” I could only repeat. The word whooshed through the room, a breathless, worried whisper. I looked around the room. Fyodor should have been there, seated between Corrine and Idrees but the seat was empty.
“Yes, your Majesty. I am not sure for how long, but when Captain Rian went around to Murban’s barracks, they were gone. When he sent a maid to Emir Fyodor’s room, it was empty.”
“Where did he go?” I demanded.
They fell silent.
Baswor cleared his throat. “It would seem likely that he has joined Quenela.”
Corrine tensed, and I considered if she was regretting her decision to stand with me. Fyodor’s army was an immense chunk of our forces. Without him, our prospects had suddenly thinned. With him, Quenela’s had rapidly risen. I had to present a strong front for my emirs, lest any others took the opportunity to slip away and chisel further at Ghalain’s forces. I thought quickly before they could sound anymore of their doubts, before I caved into my own.
Gathering the confidence of a queen, I spoke. “Muster the forces, take them out of Nyneveh and position them as you would to meet Quenela at the opening of Ghazar and on the tops of Lariya. Once my army is almost positioned, send for me.”