“Certainly.” Still carting Gwen, Ash and Ashlynn went directly up the stairs and to their suite.
Riana made to follow when Edvard caught her by the arm, and Broden, and stopped them dead. With a weather eye over his shoulder, he asked in a low tone, “How was it?”
It didn’t take telepathy to understand what he was asking. “No’ as bad as usual.”
“Ash warned them from the very beginning to no’ insult us,” Broden explained. “It curtailed some of their tongues. Ashlynn lost her temper twice but no damage done.”
Edvard half-winced. “I was wondering how it would go after you left. I know Cloud’s Rest didn’t treat you well, and my blood-siblings don’t tolerate that behavior toward their nearest and dearest. At all. I’m glad you were able to sit on them long enough to hammer out a trade agreement, though.”
So was Riana. She was also extremely glad she wouldn’t have to go back that direction any time soon.
Edvard dropped his hands. “As long as you’re fine and the village came through intact, I’m satisfied. Go clean up. I’ll have something prepared for lunch and set up in the dining room for you.”
“Thank ye.” Broden patted him on the shoulder and headed up to his own room.
Riana followed after him and wondered if she took one of those potions the twins made for headaches now, would it keep her head from wanting to split open during the meeting?
Edvard knocked his knuckles against the top of the table in a commanding rap. “War council, convene!”
Every provost was there, all sitting in their rightful places around the council table. Edvard had invited Gerrard to sit in with them as well, considering how important the man would be for the foreseeable future, and he took the only empty chair left. Tierone sat with Edvard at the head of the table. Broden was next to Ashlynn and prayed that someone here had a brilliant solution to this mess. He certainly did not see one.
“Before we begin, Ash has a report of how trade negotiations went in Cloud’s Rest.”
Ash stood, cleared his throat, then pitched his voice so that everyone could easily hear him. “First of all, the bandit gangs in the area are all gone. We destroyed them completely. What few managed to escape headed straight for the coast and I don’t believe they’ll be willing to return to the mountains. We have nothing else to fear from that quarter.”
There was a general sigh of relief.
“Now, about our relations with Cloud’s Rest: they have agreed to open trade. We’ve promised to build a highway and give them access to our trained wizards in return for food and any other goods they are willing to trade. The highway has been already started. It just needs to be properly set with brick and mortar before winter hits.”
“That is amazing progress,” Troi praised with a rare smile on his face. “I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we are very pleased to have good relations with our northern neighbors, at least. But Ash, I must ask, was the village as a whole in agreement with this? All things considered—” his eyes darted to Riana and Broden “—I find that a little hard to believe.”
Ash did not try to smooth it over or dodge the question. He shook his head and stated plainly, “No. They were not all in agreement. However, the majority was. And the majority gave the minority a choice: either go along with it or leave the village.”
Ross let out a low whistle. “That’s harsh.”
“It be harsh country,” Broden remarked, tone sad. “They can no’ afford to be divided. We won their respect when we took away their biggest threat, the bandits, but ye can no’ change a man’s heart in a day. Most were willing to form a partnership with us. It be best to leave it at that.”
The provost accepted this with a slow nod. “Let’s leave it there, then. Are they willing to trade immediately?”
“They are,” Ash confirmed. “I have a list of food they can give us now, which will help supplement our stores, and I’ve promised them certain help in return for it. We have two weeks to pull our side together and return.”
“That should be enough time,” Edvard commented, calculating things out on his fingers. “Bragdon, I believe you told me that some of our contracted workers that had been focused on the coins are now done?”
“That’s correct, sire.”
“Can we have them start on the highway?”
“I’m not sure if they have the expertise we need.” Bragdon frowned and glanced toward Troi. “Let me confer and make a list of people available. Considering the distance we have to cover, it would be best to start on that soon.”
“Very soon,” Ash advised. “The path for it is carved out, you won’t have to clear any land, but it’s still a good two days walk to get there. And a bridge needs to be built as well.”
“We’ll work out a list of necessary manpower and provisions and present it to you tomorrow, sire,” Troi promised.
“Do so. Any other questions in that regard? No? Then let’s talk about options.”
“We have options?” Ranun pitched his voice so that everyone could easily hear him. “We’ve discussed this before. We don’t even have an army. What options?”
“It’s because we don’t have an army that we’re sitting here trying to think of them,” Edvard corrected. Broden recognized that tone he was using. If he was already forcing himself to be patient, this meeting would not go well. “Now, the last two times that Iysh sent an army marching against us, they didn’t take us very seriously. They treated the first battle like a fluke win on our part and the second time they didn’t deviate from their plans, just sent a slightly bigger force. If not for the fact that it was winter, they might have stayed longer and tried a battle of attrition. Thanks to Ash and Ashlynn, we survived, but we lost a lot of guardsmen in the process. We’ve since replaced them with some of the refugees, training them, but we still don’t have anything approaching an army.”
“Train more,” Towan suggested. “Or…wait, can we outfit them if we do?”
“We don’t have the equipment,” Captain Bragdon denied. “And we don’t have the funds to buy that equipment either. Fielding an army is simply impossible even if we pool every resource we have.”
“We also don’t really have enough time,” Amber added in. “It takes a solid six months to get a soldier trained. I mean, trained enough to where he has a fighting chance. It’s difficult to do that in the dead of winter and we’re only two months away from that.”
Broden was very afraid she was right. Most of the table felt the same way.
“So, no army,” Edvard continued, although the way his mouth puckered, it was like he had bit into something sour by saying the words. “I need options. Thoughts?”
“We don’t need an army,” Haney denied. “The last two battles we won because of our wizards. Now we have more than Ash and Ashlynn, we have…how many again? Twenty-five or so all told? I don’t think we have anything to fear from Iysh with that many.”
Every wizard in the room gave a cry of protest.
Ashlynn stood up so quickly the chair nearly toppled back. “Now wait just one minute, Haney. You really expect us to do all the fighting? Are you crazy? Bandits are one thing, but Iysh has surely learned from the previous battles; they’re not going to just send regular soldiers against us again. Cernunnos’s hand, but that was obvious after the last series of ambushes we had to face! They’re sending wizards after us even in sneak attacks. Of course they’ll do it during war as well.”
A dark rumble came from Gerrard. “Besides, man, most of those twenty-five you’re counting on are under the age of sixteen. You want to send children to war for you?”
Haney flushed. “Apologies, Wizard Seaton. I was not aware of their youth. It was reported to us that twenty-three wizards had come into Estole recently but we were given no details.”
Gerrard humped. “Someone should have included the details. Most of the ones that came with me are students. You have only six fully trained wizards in Estole. And we certainly cannot fight a whole army
by ourselves.”
Haney lifted both hands up in surrender. “I gather your point.”
“We’ll fight if we need to,” Ash stated in a quiet tone that carried to every corner of the room, “but what we need to think of are ways to avoid open conflict. The odds are stacked against us if we fight.”
“Assassinate the royal family?” Troi suggested. “I know it’s a risky move, but it would work.”
Tierone was shaking his head even before the words were completely out of Troi’s mouth. “The royal palace is far too heavily fortified. We’d find it impossible to get through all of those defenses. Aside from being a suicide mission for whomever we sent, I’m not sure how viable that option is in the long run. It would certainly buy us time but Iysh’s corruption cannot be cured simply by removing the royal family. It spreads throughout the government. If we take them down, some minister or far-flung relation will be put on the throne, and we’ll be back at square one all over again.”
“You wouldn’t make it through,” Gerrard denied. “I set up some of the magical protections myself. Saying it’s ‘heavily fortified’ is an understatement.”
“But the treasury isn’t as fortified,” Edvard inputted hopefully.
Broden gave him a weary look. Had he still not given up on this idea?
“No, Edvard,” Ashlynn said firmly. “The treasury is still very fortified and it will take a miracle for us to break into it. Never mind trying to take anything out of it.”
“What’s this?” Tierone asked his brother.
“I want to bankrupt them,” Edvard explained earnestly, glad to have an interested listener after being told for weeks that it was impossible. “They can’t operate if they don’t have enough money to do so. We can always use the extra funds as well to boost our own fortifications.”
In unison Ash and Ashlynn told him sternly, “No.”
Edvard was in ‘king mode,’ so he did not pout at them. Openly. But it was a near thing.
Tierone glanced between the three and wisely did not comment aside from, “I think it would be very risky and tricky to try that. Let’s keep it as a last resort. What other options can we think of?”
“Actually…” Ross frowned down at the table as he thought it aloud, “if we’re thinking of bankrupting Iysh—which isn’t a bad idea at all, Edvard—then maybe we can go about it a different way? Say, raid the more fertile farmland and raze it to the ground, give them food shortages and the like to deal with.”
Several voices raised in agreement with this plan but it was Edvard’s turn to shake his head before the thought was completely aired. “No. No, Ross, while I like the end result I don’t like the method. It will affect the common people more than the government. It goes against everything that Estole stands for. We’ll have to find a different way.”
Ross put an elbow against the table’s surface and leaned forward, stance almost aggressive. “This is no time for moral dilemmas, King Edvard.” The emphasis he put on the title was a silent urge to remind Edvard of all of the responsibilities he bore. “Your country and your own people are at stake. If those people are still in Iysh it’s because they want to be.”
“Or they can’t afford to move,” Ash corrected. “We can’t lump everyone into black and white for our sake, Ross.”
Ross ignored him. “Regardless, your own people are your priority. If razing fields is the way to protect them, then that’s what we should do.”
“Then I become no better than Zelman.” Edvard met him squarely, eyes not flinching. “I excuse any atrocities with the need for expedience. No, Ross. I will not.”
Frustrated, Ross flung himself back in his chair and refused to look at anyone.
Edvard took in a breath, finding his center again and looked around the table. “Other options?”
“We don’t have other options,” Zorich denied. The expression on his face and the way he sat so tensely in the chair spoke of mounting frustration. “Our resources are limited, our experts even more so. The only viable options we have are the ones that have already been spoken. From those, I think we have to choose the best one and find a way to make it work.”
“Make it work?” Amber repeated incredulously. “Everything said here is going to be nearly impossible to pull off. You speak of raiding fields in Iysh so easily but do you know how difficult that’s going to be? Any party we send out is going to be in enemy territory without supplies or any lines of retreat. They’re going to be out there, alone, doing a dirty deed. Iysh will track them down eventually and then we’ll have to send out another party, and another, and how long do you really think we can keep that up?”
“Not one suggestion spoken today is actually viable.” Her brother backed her up with a no-nonsense tone that dared someone to argue with him. “We need to think of something else.”
“There is nothing else,” Ross flared, his temper finally snapping. “Zorich is right, we don’t have the resources to front some noble method that will keep Iysh from our doorstep. We need to fight dirty just to survive, and sacrifice people, because there’s no other way.”
“There is,” Troi argued even as both Bragdons said, “There must be!”
“Well, then by all means, say it!” Zorich challenged, slapping at the table before pointing a stern finger at all of them. “Because I don’t see you offering any solutions, just tearing at ours!”
Broden sighed as they disintegrated into fighting. This was not at all what the point of the council was, but at the same time he was not too surprised at the outcome. None of them had any experience with a war council before after all. No one knew what to do so frustrations were running high and tempers were climbing with every word exchanged.
The arguments were in pockets, with two or three shouting at each other, or sometimes leaning over the table to pound on it and shake angry fingers. The volume in the room grew to an almost ear-piercing level as people tried to make themselves heard over everyone else. It agitated Broden. After becoming the Sherriff of Estole’s partner he was used to riots and scenes like this and he knew that there was a certain inevitable ending to arguments like these.
They always ended in violence.
Broden was torn between trying to get his wizard and daughter clear of the mess before it got to the point of punches being thrown or trying to settle people down himself. How, he was not sure, as he was fairly certain Edvard would frown on him shooting people.
Actually, judging by that look on his face, mayhap not. Edvard looked tempted to grab up Riana’s bow—it was within snatching distance—and shoot a few people himself.
Ashlynn kicked her chair back, nearly flinging it against the wall, and jerked up to her feet. Broden automatically moved with her, one wary eye on his wizard. Uh-oh. He recognized that expression. Mayhem was about to descend. The question was, what she planned to do.
With a flick of the fingers, her mouth started moving in a spell. He recognized it almost instantly as it was a favorite of hers to use when the crowd became out of control. Broden dove for the only place that was safe to be—her back. Then he put a hand over his head and braced himself for impact.
A deluge of water abruptly poured from the ceiling as Ashlynn unleashed a storm indoors, drenching every occupant in the room except herself and her archer. The only other person that managed to escape this drenching was Gerrard, who apparently had caught her movements and had quickly thrown up a shield around himself. Ash and Riana were not as lucky, being entangled in an argument that faced the other direction, and they were as soaked as everyone else.
There was dead silence except for coughing and wet, squishy sounds as people tried to wipe water from their eyes. Ashlynn, satisfied, turned the spell back off and glared at the lot of them. “Are we children? Do we need to communicate at the top of our voices? You are supposed to be the best and brightest of Estole. Act like it.”
Despite the fact that Tierone was just as drenched as everyone else, he chuckled. “Well. I certainly feel put in my place. T
hank you, sister dearest.”
She smirked at him. “My pleasure. Shall I do it again?”
“I don’t think we’re in any danger of duels breaking out, so no.”
Pouting, she wrinkled her nose at him. “Spoilsport.”
“This meeting is adjourned for today,” Edvard plucked at his clothing, “so we can change into something dry.” This last bit he said while aiming a dirty look at Ashlynn.
She lifted her chin to a lofty angle, ignoring him and everyone else in the room, not a trace of apology on her lips.
“We’ll reconvene in a few days from now,” Edvard continued, still looking at his sister sourly. “In the meantime, please do some research and ponder this question. We want better ideas at the next meeting. Dismissed!”
Chapter Thirty
Someone cleared their throat at the door to the dining room. They had been trying to enjoy a late lunch, as it had been one of those days where things seemed to enjoy going wrong all once, but Broden wasn’t surprised that people had tracked them down to the castle this quickly. Resigned, he looked up and around to find Marissa Allen standing there with a very uncertain look to her face. “Marissa.”
“Broden, Sheriff, um…” a sense of distaste wrinkled the woman’s nose up even as she relayed, “Gwydion Argent is here.”
Who? The name did not ring any bells with Broden. It apparently did with Ashlynn, however, as she let out a wordless growl of absolute disgust. “Him? Why is he here?”
“To speak with the king.” Marissa’s tone said this was not her idea, she was not happy about it either, and please do not shoot the messenger.
Acting as if it truly pained her, Ashlynn put her feet under her and stood. “Where did you stash him?”
“The front parlor, Sheriff. I wasn’t sure what else to do with him. He refused to stay put in the guardhouse.”
Ashlynn rolled her eyes, obviously praying for patience. “He probably felt it beneath him. The front parlor works just fine. Go back to work, Marissa, we’ll handle this.”
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