“And what of the queen? Has she asked you about the war?”
“Of course.”
“And I suppose your answer to her is secret.”
“You may ask her yourself, though I suspect she’ll withhold what I told her.”
“And what about me? May I invoke your ability?”
“My prana has not yet recovered from invoking the queen’s vision, and if Elisa does require her own invocation, then-”
“No, I understand. She’ll need it more than I do.”
“Indeed. However, a seer’s power is never entirely inert. It’s the main reason you’ll not meet a seer in a crowd, but high up in towers or in solitary huts. We have become highly sensitive to the prana of others around us, which incites a consistent outpouring of lesser visions. These uncalled for images can still give me impressions of anyone nearby.”
“So, you’re saying you have an impression on me?”
He closed his eye. His brow furrowed. “Yes.”
“What does it tell you?”
“That you your mother’s sacred prana stirs like your father’s. That despite everything you already shoulder upon yourself, you aspire to carry even more. Beware of such an impulse, Your Grace. Most people will gladly hand you their responsibilities, and not even your ancestral blood can keep flowing steady under such pressure. Your demeanor and station can be better applied in inspiring others, not bearing their burdens.”
“I suppose they don’t teach seers how to inspire people.”
He opened his eye. “No, but if you ever doubt yourself, remember the respect your warrior-king father commands among his men. Remember that your mother’s compassion and acumen has won more friends than enemies for Alslana. And most of all, remember that you are a daughter to both of these eminent parents. Balance what… they have… taught…”
Tascus slowly stood up, but knowing how little he moved, it registered like panic to me.
“Seer Tascus, is something the matter?”
“Please, Princess Astor, I have to request that you leave me be for now.”
“I’m sorry, did I do something to offend?”
“I’ll explain at another time.” He bowed his head and kept it down. “Please.”
“Very well. Again, you have my thanks.”
I hurried down the tower, sensing I was somehow hurting the seer the closer I stood.
“Why were we rushing out?” asked Bell when we exited the temple.
I stared up at the glass dome. “I’m not certain, but I believe the seer was experiencing an intense vision, or at least an unexpected one. Tascus asked me to leave as a result. Pity, he was making me feel better. Remind me to get him the best baby carrots coin can buy.”
“Baby carrots?”
“Yes, he’s apparently partial to them. Or maybe he needs them for a ritual. I can’t be certain.”
“Well, for now, I have to remind you about the meeting you have with General Switzer.”
“Yes, we better make our way to the war room.”
The curious incident at the seer’s tower was forgotten as I once again dove into the war’s developments. The reports that came in over the next few of days indicated that Brey Stor had been holding its own so far, though no major battle yet. I could only assume that Oclor’s scouts and spies had given word to their generals that Brey Stor was receiving significant manpower from us, not only weapons and coin. Oclor’s response was to thus take more time gathering soldiers for the fight while mercenaries at the border poked at Brey Stor’s defenses with skirmishes.
I was glad if the reports turned out to be true. It meant Oclor didn’t have the expectation that their first armies could win, forcing them to reevaluate their stance. The longer their leaders doubted their tactics, the greater the chance they abandoned their plans or made a costly error.
Of course, if they elected to act foolishly, then the armies I should have used to defend my homeland would be lost in Brey Stor. There was also the possibility that Oclor wanted to wait and see how dedicated Voreen acted in their sea war. This and other reasons were why Voreen’s war now absorbed my attention the most.
The biggest concern my advisors and I had was if Voreen stayed content picking off unprotected vessels and limiting our sea trade to only one side of the Lucent. Nevertheless, despite Voreen’s tactics being low-cost in risk and energy, they were still reliant on us bringing them many kinds of goods from beyond the Parsillion and, ironically, Oclor. So as long as they waged war, their populace would get more restless as they saw their leaders horde the luxuries in life while their children fought their war.
Still, what seduced a Voreen populace every generation or so was the prospect of taking Alslana for themselves. If this was their current mindset, then they could doubtless jab us for years to come. Oclor might take their cue from them and begin to jab us in Brey Stor and in the Parsillion. As Beatrice and my advisors more than hinted at, we had the resources to outlast their kingdoms in such a dragged out affair, but too many soldiers on all sides would die for merely keeping the status quo. Not to mention that the Advent could pose a threat to any one of us at any time. The cult would love nothing more than to see us weaken one another.
No one liked my recommendation to plan an offensive ploy, but I knew if I inflicted a big enough blow to Voreen’s strategy, then both they and Oclor would take the early defeat as a sign of what’s to come. Their morale would be shaken and should give father a more advantageous battlefield to work with once he returned—gods grant it. So it became a matter of choosing what strategy to use.
I recognized as soon as I resolved myself to take action that I would first have to deceive any spies who had infiltrated trusted palace positions. I also had to consider that one of my very own advisors might be a traitor as well. So as I openly spoke of two or three tactics in the meetings, I formulated a separate one in my head based on the latest information. My advisors must have thought me indecisive, but I wanted to wait for the perfect conditions.
Eleven days later, I experienced my delayed epiphany.
Out in the open, I declared what I wanted to do. I ordered for an envoy of ships to take me to Prusal’s capital. My stated goal was to meet with the Prusal king and get him to agree to a temporary alliance that would have him supply ships and mercenaries for our use. Prusal did not need Alslana for trade, for nations in southern Iazali were more convenient partners, so they held no economic obligation to aid us. That said, when Voreen wasn’t trying to take over Alslana, Prusal’s northern border often served as a site for contentious neighbors to settle out their differences.
In the grand scheme of things, Voreen and Prusal were more like enemies of convenience than anything, and neither had any real chance of overwhelming the other. Really, both nations understood that winning all-out war between them netted them only marginal gains for the sacrifice. Each nation also contested with barbarians more than each other. However, if Voreen heard that Alslana was willing to open serious talks about forming a pact that could see Voreen besieged on two fronts, they would have to react.
As expected, my advisors rightly remarked that Prusal would not hazard a war for a measly sum. I assured them I could get them down to a reasonable price if I spoke to them in person. Moreover, they warned an envoy large enough to protect my crossing entailed for us to sail on the best ships we had on the Lucent, leaving our shores more vulnerable to attack. I countered by saying military vessels charged with defending trade were to be temporarily assigned to coastal patrol until my return. This would slow trade further for several weeks, but I would sacrifice a year’s worth of trade for a day’s worth of peace… Okay, six months of trade.
The question of secrecy was brought up. This was when I exaggerated my naiveté by saying that I trusted my inner circle and that preparing in haste would take the enemy by surprise. Regardless of my lineage, training, military tutors, and observing war room meetings for a decade, several of my much older and experienced advisors could not help looking
past my youth and professed gentle nature. I hoped the enemy made the same mistake.
I think the haste and resolve I exhibited surprised everyone. Beatrice wasn’t so much surprised as perturbed. She called me into her chambers the evening she heard of my plan.
Once everyone, including the High Guard captain, stood outside her door, she asked, “What are you thinking now, Odet?” She sat by her vanity and looked at me from its large mirror.
“You can’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you, okay? Not even to Captain Savoy.”
She turned to study me. “As I thought,” she said after a moment. “Gaining Prusal’s aid is a ruse, isn’t it?”
“Yes. A Voreen agent will hear of it, see me boarding a vessel heading southwest, and will inform their superior. After two or three days out at sea, I will send messengers to a Brey Stor fleet scheduled to defend a major merchant convoy in the area. The seasonal currents and winds should allow the fleet to reach us in time for our combined might to engage the Voreen flotilla that will surely be ordered to intercept me.”
“You’re truly going to rely on capricious weather and currents to decide whether you win a major sea battle? To decide whether someone I love is captured by an enemy nation? Or worse?”
“The ships Voreen will be forced to implement will be the smaller frigates they’ve been using in their pirate tactics, not their best war vessels. If the situation becomes perilous, then our superior craft and crew will allow us to escape intact. I’ll even abandon the plan altogether if Voreen doesn’t take the bait.”
Beatrice shook her head, then looked back at me through the mirror. As she started unraveling the coiled braids of hair, she said, “I love you, Odet. You’ve been my best friend since you could talk, but I’ll never understand how composed you can be when you speak of sparring, to say nothing of when you speak of war. I both admire and wince from it.”
“I can say the same about your love of liver chunks.”
“Don’t trivialize this matter, Odet. I don’t want this night to be the night I send you to drown surrounded by our enemies.”
“It won’t be.”
With all her long hair free, the queen stood up and faced me directly. “Very well, Odet, I’ll approve of your plan, as long as you can leave my room confident that my heart won’t be broken again. For if it does…” Her head lowered as repressed emotions began to brim over her lower eyelids. I rushed up to my cherished sibling and held her snug in my arms. I don’t know if I had anything to do with it, but Beatrice quickly collected herself and stepped back. She said, “So, can you leave with such confidence?”
I uncurled my back. “Yes.”
“Then you have my blessing to do as you please.” Her forehead relaxed, showing off more sister than queen. “Father will be proud when he hears that you’re as fearless as he is… and don’t say what you’re about to say.”
“Why not? Mother would be proud of you as well.”
“A sister’s perspective.”
“I hope you don’t take all my praise as mere sisterly formality.”
“Only when I see evidence to the contrary.”
“Gods, do you think mother started off perfectly? Or had ever claimed to be so? You might have always been the more practical of the two of us, but have you ever known me to dole out flattery for its sake? Or hold my tongue when I believe you to be at fault?”
She shrugged. “Fine, I’ll at least accept the praise as a sign of your growing delusion.”
“As long as you accept it. Good night, Beatrice.”
“Good night, Odet… and be careful.”
“I will be. Believe it or not, I don’t relish the idea of dying at sea, or anywhere else for that matter.”
Preparations for my voyage were going to take another couple of days, primarily to allow time for warships to be redirected to coastal duty. In the meantime, I remembered the seer’s incident and wanted to check on him before I left. Once again climbing the stairs all the way to the top had me seeing the cascade of golden hair pouring down his back.
“May I come in?”
“Yes, have a seat, Your Grace, but I fear this meeting must be short.”
When I sat down, I asked, “Are you okay?”
“Physically. My mind is confused, however.”
“Why? Can you explain what you experienced?”
He looked up from his writing. “A seer does not perceive the physical world as one solid image. The best I can explain it to you would be to describe a room made completely of mirrors of different shapes and sizes, each reflecting a different scene. With training and time a seer can focus on one scene at a time and not become dazed. However, sometimes scenes can invade other mirrors. Sometimes a scene and its mirror will shatter altogether. What happened in our last consultation appeared to be a combination of both, and yet more.”
“Was it because of me?”
“Seers already speak in enough conundrums. I do not wish to say more when I am still evaluating what happened.”
“Please, tell me what you have so far.”
He closed his eye and stayed silent for a few moments. Keeping his eye shut, he said, “I do not find it a coincidence that more and more mirrors cracked and darkened as you came up the tower.” His eye opened. “As concerning as that sounds…” His eye closed again.
“What? Is it happening again?”
“To a degree.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“After another word. I do not want you to leave with an anxious heart, Your Grace. I am partly responsible for not being strong and wise enough to understand what is happening. For what it’s worth, I also cannot say whether this is an omen for good or ill. Many times omens do not differ from a storm. They can be welcomed after a long drought, or rebuffed by those whose rivers are already full. Otherwise, without more knowledge, there is nothing either of us can do at the moment.”
“Well, thank you for doing your best. Whatever happens, if an omen powerful enough to disrupt your visions decides to show itself, I think I’ll see it coming.”
“Indeed.”
As I made my way to the exit, I asked, “By the way, did you enjoy the carrots?”
“Yes. If you’re still feeling generous, I wouldn’t refuse another bowl. I can still foresee that with clarity.”
Omens aside, I started getting a little anxious about the sea mission. I liked being on a boat during calm days, but “calm” would not describe a mission of war. It helped that, like most Alslana’s citizens, I learned to swim well at an early age. I would even go as far as to say I was a better swimmer than most people I met, though Elisa was catching up quick. Beatrice and I used to call her our “Little Sardine” before she learned that the small fish did not look particularly pretty.
Easing my anxiety further was seeing The Silver Queen floating the palace pier. She was a two-masted brig one hundred and fifty-three feet long. She had been built for speed and maneuverability, yet the distinctive sheets of steel wrapped around her hull gave her the defense of our dedicated warships. The weight-shaving enchantment on the steel plates contributed to the ship’s haughty name, as the spell made the otherwise gray metal shine like polished silver. Her crew of over a hundred and fifty were among the best sailor casters in the kingdom, and they worked day and night to keep the ship ready at a moment’s notice.
Beatrice and Elisa were there to see me off under the youngest morning sky there could be. Yes, they were sad to see me go once again, but this sadness felt more natural than the kind I experienced before leaving for Brey Stor. For one, Elisa had actually allowed for Beatrice to pick her up this time. I suppose there was also a higher chance I could meet my end at sea than I did within the grounded confines of an allied kingdom, but I tried not thinking about the percentages.
I continued bequeathing my love in kisses and waves as The Silver Queen sailed out into deeper waters, not stopping until my sisters were blanketed by the misty shadows.
Chapter Twenty-Two
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If my plan was going to work, then I expected for a motley Voreen flotilla to find me after sailing a thousand miles southwest. Any farther than that and I would be entering the range of patrolling Prusal ships, deterring Voreen ships from attacking us. Therefore, after a day of sailing made it nigh impossible for spies to give away my plot, I ordered my eighteen ship envoy to move at a more modest speed and to keep our course at a more southern bent.
I couldn’t tell whether the menacing Admiral Graham was impressed with my strategy or not. His fierce green eye had seemingly been shriveled from his decades at sea, as had the rest of his face and frame. He was no more than three years away from an age when most men would retire and hand down their rank to a younger mariner. Even so, if his full head of gray hair was any indication of his vitality, he could keep his station a decade longer than such a cutoff point. Unlike his crew, who wore various layers of light armor, the admiral wore breezy trousers and a blue coat over a fluffy white shirt.
After the admiral heard my true goal, he merely said, “May the sea sink our foes, Princess Astor.”
Three and a half days passed before our place on the map determined it was the best time to commission my messengers. One of the messengers I wished to send was a boyhood friend of Gerard’s named Soren Kline. Soren was two winters older than Gerard and the pair acted as close as twin brothers. The older fellow had wanted to join the High Guard, but took a different path on realizing he could rise in rank—and pay—more expeditiously in the navy.
Gerard was adorably nervous when he first introduced me to his friend. I soon realized that the unease stemmed from Soren’s debonair bearing, wild black hair, sharp style, and honeyed voice. Lucky for Gerard, I soon discovered that Soren was a dash self-centered and eleven dashes of impulsive. Good for a laugh and some amusing company, but far from a worthy prince. Still, his loyalty to those he befriended and strength in will made him a fine warrior for Alslana.
Flight of the Dragon Knight (The Dragon Knight Series Book 3) Page 25