“I…suppose that’s true.”
“There wasn’t anything you could have done to prevent our losses last night. Kroll underestimated the rebels, and no one could have foreseen the vaeyn’s Unbound heritage.”
Tenel nodded idly but said nothing. He wasn’t about to protest an exoneration, especially when it was accurate.
“In any case, I want you doing what you’re best at,” she said flatly, leaning forward towards him. “I want you to plan the invasion of Solaria.”
He felt his mouth gape open. “Me? Now?”
“Yes to both.”
He licked at his lips and tried to find words, but none were forthcoming.
“This is the reason I brought you here in the first place, Admiral,” Damir said with a bemused grin. “Your evaluations and insights have proven very useful, but you are a tactician at heart. You planned and led a counter-attack against an insurgency that threatened the entire Imperium.”
“I did, but…aren’t there others who are far more qualified?”
“I wouldn’t give you this task if I thought so.”
He shook his head. “I just don’t understand why the High Sovereign wouldn’t insist on another. General Adaulfo and Dietrich are the senior military officers. Even Fleet Admiral Kershein is better qualified—”
“The High Sovereign has given me broad authority over this invasion,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “To put it bluntly, His Supreme Eminence has lost faith in High Command, especially after their failures during the Talishite Offensive. He is also weary of the other Sovereigns following the Ishthare Rebellion. He trusts me to be loyal and efficient, and I trust you.”
“I see,” Tenel murmured.
Her smile returned, though it was strained. “The High Sovereign ignored my warnings about dissent in his court before her rebellion. He ignored my assurances that the assassination of our Ambassador in Elashi was a setup designed to drive us to war against the Talishites. The Imperium is in a tenuous state because of those choices—he wisely decided not to ignore me a third time.”
“You’ll forgive me for saying this, Your Eminence, but it sounds like our politics are quite unstable at the moment,” Tenel said carefully. “I would think that would make His Supreme Eminence more reserved rather than more aggressive.”
“Victory is the best cure for faltering morale,” she replied with a shrug. “And this time, he knows we shall have it. The first snow will fall within five weeks at the latest, and possibly within as few as three. He expects us to have control over most of Solaria by the end of the coming spring.”
“That’s…ambitious. We’ve been over this before: there aren’t enough troops along the border to make that type of push. We would need at least fifty thousand soldiers to threaten Garos or any of their border garrisons, and it would take months to assemble an army that size.”
“And as I have also said before, without their Bound their defenses are irrelevant,” Damir said flatly. “If they miraculously manage to recover, it will be far too late to rebuild their shattered morale.”
Tenel sighed softly. “All of that assumes the Solarians are crippled from an internal coup. If their king survives, our invasion forces will be slaughtered. I do not like the idea of relying upon our enemy to do our job for us.”
“We will be guiding the coup along, trust me. All the Alliance insurgents require is the distraction of a war—a war I want you to plan, Admiral, assuming you’re up to it.”
Tenel knew he wasn’t going to convince her to put the invasion on hold. After weeks of subtle inquiry, he had come to accept that another war was inevitable. But if he couldn’t stop the war, the least he could do was prevent as many casualties as possible. He could save thousands of lives simply by being in control rather than watching from a distance. Unlike many of his fellow officers, he respected the troops under his command and didn’t spend their lives needlessly. It really only left one option.
“I’m honored for the opportunity, Your Eminence.”
“Excellent,” Damir said, smiling. “My aides will be able to provide you with any and all information you need about our forces.”
“How long do I have?”
“That depends on how certain factors play out, but I wouldn’t take more than a few days.”
Tenel nodded. He needed some space and time to think, and he wouldn’t find either here. “Very well. If there’s nothing else, then, I would like to get started.”
“Of course. I’ll be sure to keep you updated on the Lyebel situation as well. Dismissed.”
Tenel turned and left the room. He waited until he reached his office before releasing a deep breath. He hadn’t even been here two full weeks and already his perspective on nearly everything had inexorably changed. The Zarul, the Solarians, hell, even the Imperium—nothing seemed as simple as it was before he arrived. One way or another, war was going to come to Torsia—perhaps the bloodiest war in centuries—and he was going to be standing at the center of that maelstrom praying to the Gods he could control it.
He wasn’t worried about his competence, of course. He had a firm grasp of military tactics on both sea and land. As Damir liked to remind him, he was the one who planned Vienshel Harbor, the final and only successful battle in the Ishthare Rebellion. While the rest of the navy was scrambling to recover after Ishthare’s string of brutal attacks on coastal cities, he had organized and implemented a counter offensive. The Perilous and fifteen other ships had ambushed her second fleet just before it could strike another target. Outnumbered nearly three to one, his armada had still carried the day with a combination of clever tactics and a healthy dose of luck. Vienshel had shattered the rebel’s momentum and stolen the morale of its troops, and he had received a dozen commendations for his efforts. He was proud of the accomplishment, naturally, but what really mattered to him was the High Sovereign’s report two weeks later that Ishthare herself had been slain.
Still, it was only one victory, and he was merely a Vice Admiral in an immense military that spanned several former nations. There were dozens of people more qualified to plan this type of invasion. Surely Damir knew that. So then why had she really chosen him? More importantly, why had the High Sovereign chosen him?
As usual, Tenel found himself buried by a slew of questions with precious few answers. Beyond this assignment, the situation in Lyebel was still unsettling. Damir still hadn’t told him why the High Sovereign insisted on allowing the Galvian rebels to live, other than the fact they had someone on the inside. Sovereign Verrator had a reputation for ruthlessness, especially towards rebel sympathizers, and it didn’t seem right that he would just sit back and let the Resistance gain momentum in one of his most vital cities—not even with a direct order from his superior.
And that, in turn, lead to questions about this war in general. Tenel understood the plan—if it worked, he would even go so far as to welcome it. A conquered Solaria would mean a lasting Torsian peace. The Asgardians or Talishites might try to press their advantage during the chaos of war in the short term, but once the Alliance’s assets were fully under imperial control, neither of those nations would pose any threat. The Crell would rule over more than half the continent, and their empire would be the most powerful in all of Obsidian. With that degree of centralized leadership, peace and prosperity seemed a foregone conclusion.
All of that, however, was contingent on a coup he knew nothing about. Damir was still playing it very closely to her chest; Tenel knew the Zarul had an agent on the Alliance Council, but he didn’t know the person’s identity. He also knew that Damir had at least one other contact who was working directly in this coup effort, but that was all. His lack of knowledge itself wasn’t a problem; he didn’t expect to know everything in such a short time. But what bothered him was how certain she seemed of her plan’s success.
Yesterday, he had been certain they would have their hands on the divine spark in Lyebel, and that hadn’t gone as planned. It was one of the cardinal rules of w
ar: strategies rarely survived the first minute of any battle. Any strategy was a gamble, of course, but with this one in particular, the risks were immense. If it failed, the worst case scenario involved the collapse of the Imperium. The more likely scenario was a long, drawn-out war that could last a decade and claim millions of lives.
Tenel had lived through one of those wars already and had no interest in repeating it. He only wished that made a difference. He had to plan this attack as if Areekan were going to fall. Their forces had no chance otherwise. He might not agree with the war, but he wasn’t about to throw away the lives of loyal soldiers in some type of impotent protest. He was a soldier, and he was going to follow his orders—even if he didn’t particularly like them.
Sighing to himself, Tenel took a seat and set to plotting the Third War.
***
He does not believe in the war.
Alexandra Damir, eyes closed and hands folded in her lap, shook her head. He doesn’t have to believe. He simply has to do.
His list of concerns grows. They burden his mind.
Eventually they will consume him.
Her eyes opened, and she swiveled her throne in annoyance to face the three Shadows arrayed across the back of the room. Our choices are limited. None of us has the tactical skill to command a full-scale invasion.
There are others.
Many others. Others with more experience.
Others that cannot be trusted, she pointed out sharply. We are running out of time, and he is the best we have.
You place too much faith in one battle. What if we fail?
She snorted. I’m counting on you to make sure that doesn’t happen. Are you saying you aren’t up to the task?
They paused. Our brother will not fail us.
I’m glad you place such confidence in him, she said dryly. I still hope we won’t need him. According to the elder Moore, the girl is almost ready. Once the war starts, she will have her opportunity to seize power…and I have no doubt that she will take it.
The Shadows seemed to stir visibly. We still doubt Moore’s intentions. Surely he isn’t foolish enough to believe that will award him Galvia.
Of course he doesn’t. He believes Solaria will win the war even after we crush their border garrisons. With a queen supportive of his cause and his powers restored, he knows his Resistance can be a vital part of the war effort. Right now, he is certain helping us is still in his best interests: there is no other way to ensure a war and subsequently a ruler sympathetic to him.
Much of our plan rests on his shoulders.
We do not enjoy relying on our enemies.
Damir smiled at their echo of Tenel’s words. They seemed to hate him, yet they thought so very much alike.
I rely on him to follow his own interests, she explained to them. Once he has what he wants, he’ll turn against us. But by then, it won’t matter.
The Alliance will be battered.
They will be broken, she echoed. And General Moore will learn that while he assisted in regicide, his own allies at home will have been wiped out.
But what of the spark?
It’s not going anywhere. I doubt Moore’s son will even survive, but if he does, the war will have begun before he can change anything. At that point we will no longer need to show restraint. We’ll destroy the entire city if we need to.
Again the Shadows collectively paused, as if gathering themselves. What of the vaeyn? Should we not try to capture her?
She would be a powerful ally.
Damir nodded. No doubt, but I’m not interested in another mindless servant, and we know that is what she would have to be. An indoctrinated paladin will not join our cause willingly.
What about the Unbound Galvian, Moore’s associate?
Tam Eldrin? she asked with a snort. No, he is too loyal to his companions. Besides, his mind is undisciplined. His growth is stunted; he will never realize his potential.
But you still have hopes for the Solarian Queen-to-be?
She may think she hates us, but once she realizes what we stand for, she’ll become more sympathetic. She may be a useful servant in the end.
What if she knows the technique?
What if she can maintain the king’s bonds?
Impossible, Damir assured them. Her growth has also been limited by her surroundings. Areekan would never allow her to develop beyond his limitations. When he dies, his Bound will break just like they should, and the Alliance will find itself helpless.
They remained silent, pacified for the moment. Damir allowed herself a satisfied smile as she thought of all that had led to this point. One way or another, war was coming to Torsia—a war that would shape the very future of the world.
And no one would be able to stop it.
Epilogue
Elade Devarath stared down at the man beneath her. His brown hair was thoroughly disheveled, and fresh stubble darkened his cheeks and chin….but otherwise he looked peaceful. She had tended to the scrapes and bruises on his body, but the tempest raging in his mind was well beyond her ability to understand or control. She could feel the power brimming inside him from a hundred feet away, and she knew it could overwhelm him at any moment. Perhaps it already had. He might never awaken from his slumber, and even if he did there was no way to know if the man inside was still Jason Moore.
Or maybe, just maybe, he would eventually awaken as a new Ascendant and a shining beacon of hope for the conquered people of Galvia.
She gently ran her fingers through his hair and sighed. There was nothing more she could do for him or any of the others right now. Last night’s battle already seemed like a distant memory, but its wounds and consequences were quite real. Nearly a dozen rebels had lost their lives in the attack, and Adar himself wasn’t fully recovered from the injuries he had suffered. Two cots over, Selvhara remained unconscious, and Elade wasn’t sure if the other woman would survive. Her friends were only marginally better off. Tam had suffered severe burns and crossbow hits during the attack, and Sarina was lucky to be breathing at all. The Asgardian had suffered critical injuries to her spine and ribs, and Elade had barely been able to stabilize her. It might take the woman weeks to recover without the ministrations of a more experienced healer.
And then, of course, there was Tevek. Her mentor was just as crippled as the rest of them. Four of his ribs were broken, and his body had been riddled with wooden splinters and metal shrapnel. Of all the evening’s surviving combatants, only the chagari and Elade herself had escaped with minimal injuries. Gor was now busy helping the rebels haul cargo to a new compound, and she had been stuck playing nursemaid all day.
“I apologize for any doubt the others might have had,” Aidan Darond said as he placed a comforting arm around her shoulder. The wiry old man had once been a Bound priest of King Whitestone just like several of the others, and even though he could no longer channel the Aether, he was still an experienced herbalist and healer. Elade wished she could trade her powers with him for a few minutes; with his knowledge, he could probably have everyone up and about in no time.
She smiled wearily. “I wish I could do more.”
“You saved all of our lives,” he said. “I don’t know what else you could possibly do.”
“If I had been there with Tevek and Selvhara, this wouldn’t have happened them him.”
“And then Jason might be dead and the Crell would have the spark,” Aidan reminded her. “I’m not sure that would be an improvement.”
Elade bit her lip and folded her arms. The constant exertion had made this room feel like an oven despite the cool late autumn breeze, and she had discarded her armor in favor of a sleeveless tunic. The glyphs twisting their way down her right arm seemed to glisten as much as the sweat covering her gray skin.
“I don’t understand how anyone could do this,” she whispered. “I didn’t think an Ascendant bond could ever be broken.”
Aidan shook his head. “I wish I knew. But if the Crell have trained other Imperators in the
technique…”
“No army in the world could stand against them,” she murmured. “They could crush the defenses of any garrison and breach the walls of any city. No one would be safe.”
The old man sighed and sank into one of the nearby chairs. “As if demons weren’t enough. Now we have to worry about the bloody Crell again.”
Elade frowned. She had almost forgotten about their original purpose here. As distant as last night’s battle felt, their confrontation with the demon seemed like a lifetime ago. They still had no idea who—or what—was causing the infestation, and now they had come face-to-face with a new Crell weapon that could end the coming war before it even began. Their only glimmer of hope might have been the Unbound Zarul agent they had taken captive—she had managed to keep him alive, and with luck they could interrogate him and learn more about this new technique.
“It’s possible that this spell is unique to Unbound,” she whispered, thinking aloud. “If so, we might at least have a chance to figure out a countermeasure before the Crell unleash it on anyone else.”
Aidan raised an eyebrow. “That man you captured is an Unbound?”
“Yes,” she confirmed without elaborating further. There was another risk here too, one that almost made her lament the fact she had needed to keep the Crell man alive. He knew the source of her power, and that meant he could tell others. Tevek had fiercely protected her true identity all these years, but if the rest of the Dawn Conclave were to find out…
Well, she would assuredly be exiled. They might even lock her away to be safe. And as for Tevek, the Code of Maeleon explicitly forbade teaching Last Dawn techniques to Unbound. He would be stripped of his mantle as Highlord, and they would probably not even be willing to restore his powers…
Elade closed her eyes and baled her hands into tight fists. She had known from the beginning that there would be more to this trip than just a simple rendezvous, but within the course of a day everything had changed. Tevek might never recover, she might be exiled from the Dawn, the others here might die without a more capable healer to watch over them…
The Godswar Saga (Omnibus) Page 43