by Jeff Wheeler
Richard spoke up. “Everyone will get a turn to speak. We are peers here in this council. I do not condone interrupting a person before he has finished making his points. Proceed, Justin. What defenses do we have?”
Justin smiled with satisfaction; Caspur glowered at the gentle rebuke. “I believe the city can withstand a sizable force.”
Richard frowned. “Before we seek your opinion, we need facts. What defenses does the city have? When were they last inspected?”
“I see what you mean,” Justin replied, nodding. “The city watch, first of all. I have nearly a thousand men, in watchman uniforms, who can help defend the city.” Caspur snorted, but then waved off the attention when he realized the others were staring at him. “There are twelve gates that can be barred and shut. We have access to the river as well. The Stews, as you know, is across the river. There are fewer defenses there, but the river becomes a natural barrier. There are four bridges that span the river and each has a gatehouse and guard.”
“How much food do we have stored?” Richard asked next.
“Enough to last a siege of six months, maybe more, but I will be cautious in my estimate. We have been expecting the armada to strike, remember, and—”
“King Brannon had abandoned Comoros to destruction,” Caspur interrupted again. “I served on the previous Privy Council, Maia—what he tells you is not fully true.”
Maia gave Caspur an even look. “I told all of you that I expect you to speak your minds,” she said, keeping her voice very low and controlled. “I appreciate that. But it seems to me that this is the type of debate my father permitted. Each man speaking over his neighbor. Arguing and wrestling. My lord, that will prevent the Medium from helping us. Each must be given a turn to speak. You will be given yours. Please . . . do not interrupt him again.”
“Thank you,” Justin said, squaring his shoulders. He gave Caspur a sharp look, but he continued with good humor. “As I was saying, we expected the armada to strike. We have chains in the river ready to hoist up and help bar the fleet from sailing into the city. Comoros was designed to withstand a sea attack. Pent Tower was specifically built to prevent the city from falling prey to such a tactic, and walls and barriers throughout the city provide rings of defense. It would take a sizable force, and by that I mean ten thousand men, to force entry. I do not believe Forshee has that many.”
Maia looked at him. “Justin, you forget that the Earl of Forshee is sitting here among us. Let us call the man by his true name. Kord Schuyler. He is no longer the Earl of Forshee. Indeed, he is in open rebellion against the Crown. Are there any other defenses to use for the city? How can we evacuate the townspeople?”
Justin wrinkled his brow. “Why would we do that?”
Maia glanced at Richard, and was relieved to see he understood.
“Because she is not only considering the threat of this rebel army,” the chancellor said. “The Naestors’ armada is on its way. She has seen the size of the fleet. They will have more than ten thousand soldiers. They may have ten times that amount.”
“A hundred thousand soldiers?” Justin asked, his mouth gaping open as he considered the number.
“Indeed,” Richard said. “What is the evacuation plan for the city?”
The mayor looked completely unprepared to answer. “I . . . I do not have . . . well . . . what we could do . . .”
Richard shook his head. “Facts, Lord Mayor. It is clear that we do not have an evacuation plan for the city. Please work with the ealdermen to prepare one. This is important. It may help us during the rebellion, but it will certainly be necessary once the armada comes.” He turned to Dodd.
“Lord Price, what have you learned about Kord Schuyler’s power? When your father was Earl of Forshee, how many men could he bring to bear?”
Dodd looked much calmer than he had appeared at the beginning of the meeting, and he seemed almost pleased by the question. “I have spoken to the court historian. Kord had assembled three earldoms under his command, two in the north and one in the south. Combined, they give him the right to call fifteen thousand men, if all will heed and serve him. I have already been approached by many of my vassals, who have pledged their support to me. I believe five thousand will come if I call. More may rally, but that is my best information for the moment. My understanding is that Billerbeck Hundred is faithful to my Family. They are assembling soldiers even now.”
Richard nodded. “How long would it take to march them here?”
Dodd frowned. “It may be a fortnight.”
Shaking his head, Caspur murmured to himself but did not address the group.
Richard nodded. “How long will it take you to reach that Hundred and determine whether you can raise that many?”
“I planned to take the Apse Veil to Billerbeck Abbey today,” Dodd said, giving Maia a quick smile. “That saves me two days of riding.”
Suzenne beamed as he said it, and Maia could not help but smile with them. “The situation has indeed changed,” Maia said. “The full rites of the abbeys have been restored. That will hasten this work. Thank you, Dodd. You have my leave to go whenever you are ready.”
“Thank you,” he said, grinning. She saw him sneak his hand under the table to clasp Suzenne’s.
Richard fumbled with some of the scrolls on his desk. “Ah, this is it,” he said, withdrawing one. “Lord Caspur, you gave this to me last night. Your earldom is still intact. Please educate the council on your situation.”
The earl rose swiftly, brushing his hands together. He was struggling to control his expression, for Maia could see the admonishment he had received was difficult for him to endure. “I beg your pardon. We need to act swiftly, so forgive my agitation. I had hoped to be on the saddle already and riding for my domain. I cannot . . . use the Apse Veil, as Lord Price can, so I must be away and quickly. Schuyler had the largest domain in the realm. He is a formidable enemy, Lady Maia, and tested. Your father made him warden of the army, and he was quick and ruthless with his power. He has men like Trefew serving him. While some of his soldiers may be inclined to serve Lord Price,” he added with a subtle urgency in his tone, “he will execute any man who flees his camp. Your Highness, a rebellion gains size the longer it lasts. He strikes at you now because he knows you are at your weakest. If you would appoint me to be the warden—”
Maia’s brow furrowed. “Please . . . before we discuss that, help me understand how many soldiers you can muster and how soon. It sounds like you still need to summon them.”
“Yes,” he said through clenched teeth. He was fidgeting, which Maia did not like. “If you insist on the formalities, so be it. I can bring nine thousand men from the west. If we march to Comoros, we can be here in five or six days. But I suggest you send me to face Kord Schuyler directly. It would be wiser to fight a battle before he reaches the city. If I can bar his way, then Lord Price can attack him from behind while I serve as a wall in front and”—he clapped his hands—“we have him defeated! He is your biggest threat at the moment, Maia. If it is quick and decisive, you will put down the rebellion.”
Maia did not feel right about his words, which were delivered too quickly, with a manic sort of energy. She wondered at that.
Perhaps her doubt showed. Richard said, “My lord earl, I feel uneasy about your assessment.”
Caspur glowered. “And what would an Aldermaston know of armies and soldiers?”
The deliberate barb struck Maia, and she felt her anger stirring, but she tamped it down with effort. This was how her father used to run his Privy Council. She could see the tension in Caspur’s eyes, the eagerness for . . . for what?
Glory.
She felt the sudden urge for Jon Tayt’s counsel. Thinking of him almost made her smile. Back at Muirwood, her dearest advisors and friends had all believed as she did and held the same intentions. As she gazed at her Privy Council, she realized it would take much longer for this group to reach a conclusion.
“That is why I chose him, you see,” Mai
a said softly, looking at Richard Syon with a growing heart. She trusted him. She respected him. Having long ago learned to master his anger, he was not ruffled by the earl’s provocation. Once the very man they discussed, Kord Schuyler, the former Earl of Forshee, had come to Muirwood to threaten him. He was unflappable. “Please, Lord Caspur. Be more civil.”
Caspur’s face mottled with rage and he clenched his jaw, clearly struggling to accept the rebuke of a young woman. His voice was almost a low growl when he next spoke. “Maia, I have risked everything siding with you. If Schuyler is not stopped quickly, he will not only take your crown, but also my head. Forgive me if I am impatient, but I know what to do. I have a force strong enough to challenge his, especially if Lord Price’s force joins us from the north. Do not fight him so near the city. A river gains strength as it flows down from the mountain. Do not let him become a flood.” He raised his hands and shrugged. “You do not have a seasoned battle commander, my lady, except for me. Give me this charge, and I will bring the rebel to heel.”
And it was his lack of humility that made Maia realize she could not trust him with that authority. But if she did not, who would stand against her enemies?
He who is to be a good ruler must have first been ruled. Men must be trained to obey and obey absolutely. Fear is education. Peril is persuasion. We dreaded the return of the mastons from Assinica. As we look at the plunder we have harvested from their lands, we marvel at the strangeness of their creations. Musical instruments never before devised. Gears and pulleys and levers melded into new creations we do not yet know how to use. These people are geniuses. It will take a lifetime to unravel their mysteries after they have been destroyed.
—Corriveaux Tenir, Victus of Dahomey
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Counsel
There was no unity among her council members. Maia saw open distrust and hostility in Justin’s eyes as he glared at the Earl of Caspur. With such a threat looming against them, it was no wonder. And yet she would not allow herself to be bullied into giving Caspur his way. That would not bode well for the future.
“I have not heard from you yet, Lord Paget,” Maia said, turning to her old advisor from Bridgestow. He was the most quiet member of the council, and she had come to learn he rarely spoke unless addressed specifically. “What is your counsel?”
Lord Paget had gray-blond hair that receded up his hairline and a darker goatee sprinkled with white. Clearly surprised to be addressed so pointedly, he sat up and began to fidget. Caspur looked at the man with growing disdain, as if annoyed someone who lived on the borders of the realm had been allowed to join the Privy Council. But Maia knew that he had served on her grandfather’s council in the past.
He looked full of unease as he spoke. “Your Majesty, it is a difficult problem, to be sure.”
Caspur sniffed and cleared his throat, his expression growing more impatient by the moment.
“I would value your counsel,” Maia prodded.
The man looked a little flustered by Caspur’s impatience, but his voice grew strength as he spoke. “It is easy, in my opinion, to start a rebellion. And yet it takes fuel to feed it. When men grow hungry or are unpaid, they turn fractious. Kord Schuyler seems to be hoping for a quick victory. The longer you stay on the throne, my queen, the more his supporters will dwindle. He is risking much, to be sure, but his march on Comoros is an attempt to make you act rashly.” At these words, he gave Caspur a pointed look. “Two forces of unequal size can be mitigated across a battlefield, depending on who has the more favorable ground. I learned from my dealings with the Pry-rians that a smaller force can easily repel a larger force if sitting in a defensible position, be it a river at their back, a fenland on their flank. I cannot think of a more defensible position than a walled city.”
Justin flashed the man a smile, looking pleased at his assessment. Caspur just glowered, clearly more angry than ever.
“So you would suggest we let him come to us,” Maia said.
Paget nodded quickly. “Any delay benefits you, my lady. An army needs supplies. It runs out of food quickly. Hot passions begin to subside. Defend the heart of your realm, and you preserve the core.”
Caspur looked impatient to speak.
“Yes?” Maia asked, turning to him, thankful he had not interrupted.
“While I applaud Lord Paget’s words, I would challenge his experience. Have you ever led soldiers into battle, my lord? From whence comes this knowledge? There has not been war with Pry-Ree for centuries.”
Paget stiffened, his look darkening. “I have read a good deal . . .”
“Books,” Caspur snorted with derision.
“. . . and I assisted the chancellor’s office in outfitting and supplying the king’s armies.” He gave Richard Syon an imploring look.
“That experience may prove useful,” Richard said, nodding his head. “I may call on you.”
There was a sudden shift of tension, and Maia felt certain in that moment that her council was not behind Caspur’s ideas.
“I would hear from everyone,” Maia continued. “Suzenne?”
Her friend looked flustered. “I have no experience that would be helpful,” she said, her cheeks flushing.
Maia gave her an encouraging nod.
After wrestling with herself for a moment, Suzenne finally said, “What of the children? The families to be displaced? If there is to be a siege of the city, they will suffer. I agree that we must have a plan to evacuate the sick, the young, and those who cannot defend themselves.”
“Thank you,” Maia said. “Please work with the lord mayor and offer your suggestions to him. Consider where they may be moved and how to supply them with their needs.”
Caspur wrung his hands, clearly sensing he had lost the room. “Lady Maia, I insist that you hear me out. I have more experience than all the rest of these council members combined. Put me in charge of your army, and I swear to you, by Idumea’s hand, I will put down this rebellion and bring Schuyler before you in chains for punishment. Marching my army to defend the city would mean leaving my own lands unguarded. I know what Paget meant by choosing good ground. This realm is more familiar to me than it is to most, as I have holdings throughout. I would choose a battlefield that would give us a sure advantage. Why trouble the citizenry at all, Your Grace? Give me the command, I implore you!”
Maia could almost feel his desperation for glory. That would lead to foolish decisions. Her trust would be earned, not taken for granted.
“I have heard you,” Maia said, staring into his eyes. She shook her head, using that gesture to begin communicating the news that would disappoint him. “Comoros is a vast city, split by a river. Losing control of it would be disastrous. These are my instructions. Dodd—bring as many forces as you can and march them quickly to Comoros. If you raise your banners, you may draw some of Schuyler’s soldiers away. Do not engage with his army. Lord Mayor, prepare to defend the city. Have your watchmen trained and keep them sober, my lord. Will a curfew help you maintain order?”
Justin beamed. “It would indeed. With your permission?”
“You have it.” She turned to her chancellor. “Richard, see that the order is written and affix it with the seal granting authority.” It was only then that she turned back to the Earl of Caspur. “Bring your army to Comoros to defend us. You have the largest force and the most experience in battle. Some of the vigor being used to challenge us may wane in time. It will give us more options if we force Schuyler to react to us rather than reacting to him. Do not engage his army, my lord. Bring your army here.”
His jaw quivered with disappointed rage, but though his eyes burned with enmity, he gave her a curt nod and made no comment.
“Go make your preparations,” Maia said. “Report back to the chancellor regularly. Keep him informed of your progress.”
She dismissed the council.
The rest of the day was long and wearisome. Being a queen, Maia discovered, was replete with commitments and obligations. I
t seemed every person in the realm wanted to see her, speak with her, implore her for a position or a favor. Thankfully, her chancellor controlled access to her during the formal times of the day. Only in rare moments could he travel back to Augustin to see his wife and assist her with her duties in the abbey, and Maia hurt for them, knowing the separation was painful.
Suzenne served the same gate-keeping function during Maia’s private hours. The two were enjoying an elaborate meal in Maia’s private chambers. Her other ladies-in-waiting, including Jayn Sexton, were also there, helping to arrange an assortment of gowns, traveling clothes, blankets, and household items that she had found herself owning without knowing how. Many of the pieces, she learned, had belonged to her mother before being usurped by Lady Deorwynn. After Suzenne, Maia was closest to Jayn and appreciated her quiet ways and thoughtfulness.
Maia’s appetite had waned with the threat of rebellion, but the soup was good, and she nibbled on the loaf of trencher bread.
“I miss the Aldermaston’s kitchen at Muirwood,” Maia said to Suzenne.
Her friend smiled and nodded in agreement. One of the other girls had picked up a lute and had begun plucking simple chords from it—the sound a lovely accompaniment to their meal.
“What did you think of the council meeting this morning?” Maia asked.
Suzenne fidgeted with her spoon. “Caspur looked quite . . . displeased, but I do not know what else you could have done. He seemed determined to get his way. I am glad you did not give in. He made it very uncomfortable, though.”
“He did,” Maia agreed. “It will take time before the council acts in harmony. I confess, it is difficult to discern the motives of every person. Caspur means well, I think, but he is very ambitious. His need for glory clouds his judgment.”
She continued to eat the soup. A dish of spiced fish was nearby, and she plucked a few flaky crumbs from it with her fingers. The cooks always insisted on bringing her a variety of dishes and had tried to learn about her favorites. She had admitted to a fondness for Pry-rian cooking, which had upset the head cook very much. She sighed aloud. It was just too difficult to attempt pleasing everyone.