Dangerous Crowns

by A K Fedeau

  “Livia!” Marcus barged up the stairs and through the doorway. “Livia, I need to talk to you. Now.”

  “Marcus?” Livia reeled back. “What’s wrong?”

  “Livia, have you heard of something called ‘Operation Nightfall?’”

  “What? No…”

  “Dammit, of course you haven’t.” Marcus barged through the cages to reach her. “Hector’s out of his mind. He wants to sack the Jormund capital. I just heard him say it in the armory, a-a few minutes ago.”

  “Marcus…”

  “I don’t care what you said about Lady Camilla, Hector’s forced our hand. We need to…”

  “Marcus!” Livia grabbed his arms. “Slow down!”

  Marcus stammered, then trailed off.

  “There.” Livia let go of him. “Now tell me what’s going on.”

  “I just overheard Hector and Ciacco talking in the armory.”

  “Wait. Ciacco’s back?”

  “He is.” Marcus nodded, then went on. “Hector just ordered him to launch something called ‘Operation Nightfall.’”

  “And what’s that?”

  “March on the Jormund capital, burn it, and kill everyone inside.” Marcus planted his palm on the nearby table to steady himself. “He wants to pull out on a violent note, so it looks like we won. Then he’s going to declare war on Juba, and start this all over again.”

  Livia backed away and brought her hand to her mouth. “Oh, gods.”

  “This explains everything.” Marcus straightened his disheveled neckline. “The fifteen-thousand troop increase. Turning away from the highlands.”

  Livia interrupted him. “The highlands?”

  “Incredible.” Marcus didn’t stop to answer her. “That was when I first got here. He and Ciacco have been planning this for months.”

  “Turning…?”

  “Livia, we have to stop this.” Marcus took a deep breath through his nose. “I don’t care what we have to do. This cannot make it back to the front.”

  “And it’s not going to.” Livia held up her hands. “We’ll figure something out.”

  “I already have.”

  “You have?” Livia tilted her head. “Like what?”

  “I’ll handle it. You just need to trust me.”

  Livia scowled. “That’s not an answer.”

  “Fine.” Marcus leaned in closer. “Listen.”

  Livia blinked at him with a stern, expectant look on her face.

  “When I talked to Ligari, she told me more about how Ciacco was hurt. Hulder’s Rock was a covert post. The ambush, it-it doesn’t make sense.” Marcus only paused long enough to dab his forehead with the back of his hand. “We knew something didn’t add up with it. We just couldn’t put our finger on what.”

  Livia cringed. “You didn’t tell me this.”

  “I didn’t think it’d matter until now.” Marcus rambled faster than he could organize his thoughts. “Ciacco filed his report, but I mean, the story is a mess. Some of the details are too convenient. Others, it’s like something’s been left out.”

  “Then we can’t use it.”

  “No. Don’t you see? That’s what makes it elegant.”

  Livia’s face turned suspicious, but she stayed silent so he could go on.

  “Ciacco’s injury could’ve been anything. Maybe it was a lucky ambush. Or maybe it wasn’t.” Marcus led Livia further from the doorway. “Maybe he’s playing both sides of this war. Maybe he told the Jormunds about Hulder’s Rock. Or maybe one of ours saw their chance, and decided enough was enough.”

  “You mean…?”

  “For eight years, he’s been throwing Histria’s finest to their deaths. It’s not like they wouldn’t have motive.” Marcus’ tone darkened. “Or anything to lose if they tried.”

  Livia screwed up her face as she tried to take everything in.

  “But Hector doesn’t know that. And Ligari promised not to tell him yet.” Marcus leaned over an empty cage. “If I bring it to the war table, I could have him spinning like a top.”

  “But we don’t know.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Marcus’ fingers curled into the slats of the cage. “All we need is for him to doubt. His imagination will take care of the rest.”

  A longer, more awkward silence fell - before Livia wrinkled her nose.

  “Are you serious?” She asked.

  “Why?”

  “Do you realize how badly this could hurt you if you’re wrong?”

  “Livia, it’s perfect. I’m barely even doing anything. If it fails, I deny my intentions. If I’m right, Hector sinks Ciacco himself.” Marcus’ eyebrows dove deeper and deeper as his words became more desperate. “This is what you wanted me to do all along, isn’t it? Learn to lie.”

  “Not like this.” Livia turned away. “I don’t want you putting yourself on the line.”

  Marcus yanked his hands off the cage. “Oh, that’s rich!”

  Livia whirled around to face him again.

  “You were fine with sending me into Lady Camilla’s mouth,” Marcus spat. “What if I’d had to sleep with her? I couldn’t betray you like that!”

  “But you didn’t, did you?”

  “Thankfully, no.” Marcus’ eyes darted back and forth. “But this is too risky? I’d love to know what color the sky is in your world.”

  “That’s not the only reason I’m worried.” Livia glared at him like a hawk. “First of all, you weren’t going to tell me.”

  “Yes I am. I’m telling you now.”

  “Because I hounded you about it.” Livia gestured toward the open window. “I think you knew I’d disapprove of it, so you wanted to go behind my back. But no matter how well you think you know Hector, this is not something you can control.”

  “Livia, I’ve seen my troops beat an old man within an inch of his life. I’ve seen them burn down a whole village for hiding one Severin spy.” Marcus seized Livia’s shoulders and gazed at her with wild eyes. “I know there’s no good war, but somewhere, we have to draw the line. Someone has to hold onto their ideals, or else we’ll all be lost.”

  “I…”

  “Do you know how much of the Jormund population lives in the capital? We’re talking half a million dead. He’ll obliterate them.” Marcus’ cheeks flushed as he ran out of breath. “If I don’t stop it, who will?”

  “Can we at least talk about it first?”

  “I’m not going to ride to victory on the wheels of a war crime!”

  Livia craned her head back, stunned into silent dismay.

  “I won’t.” Marcus clenched his teeth. “You may not be better than that. But I am.”

  “That’s a low blow, and you know it.”

  “Is it?” Marcus lowered his voice. “I don’t know what you did in the Syndicate. And frankly, I’m afraid to ask.”

  Marcus fumed like a steaming kettle as Livia chewed her lip, and the two of them stared - and stared - until the silence became unbearable. Marcus gave her one last indignant glance, then turned on his heel, and marched down the spiral staircase, his boot soles stomping on the steps.

  “Marcus?” Livia snatched up her skirt and followed him to the doorway. “Marcus, where are you going?!”

  Marcus didn’t look back. “To do my job.”

  Marcus stormed out of the stairwell and through the first-story hall, his fists tight and his shoulders squared and his eyes fixed straight ahead. He walked with such single-minded purpose, he almost hit Ligari as she passed, and she nearly tripped on her own feet as she stumbled out of his way.

  “Incipio?” Ligari regained her bearings. “Are you all right? What’s going on?”

  “Get me an audience with King Hector.”

  Ligari balked. “What? When?”

  “Tonight.”

  CHAPTER 16

  That night, Marcus made his way to the war room at the palace’s heart, as clouds gathered over the roof and crickets chirped throughout the grounds.

  A breeze blew through the walkway
s as drunken nobles streamed back from their dinner, and servants snuck out of their masters’ rooms with tunics and dresses to wash. Above him, he heard the dulcet tones of Hector’s screaming voice, fading in and out as he paced in front of the open war room doors.

  “They what?!”

  “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” a young man responded - a guard, or maybe a scribe. “Every prefect in the district resisted them, but they weren’t able to hold them back.”

  “So what, they all just magically forgot how to do their jobs?”

  “No, Your Majesty. They were overwhelmed. The first floor of the basilica is destroyed.”

  And when Marcus turned the corner, he saw a shaded figure at the end of the hall - High General Ciacco, murmuring to a man in a black cloak.

  Marcus lurked in the shadows and watched Ciacco slip a letter out of his belt, and the cloaked man nodded, bowed to him, and stuffed the letter in his clothes. They talked for a minute longer, with hand gestures and muffled tones - until the cloaked man scuttled down the stairs and off to the unknown.

  Mira’s blood. Marcus’ eyes widened. What have I just stumbled on?

  Ciacco shuffled over to the balustrade and gazed down at the garden below.

  Marcus waited for Ciacco to walk away, too, but he didn’t budge. Damn. I can’t avoid him. I’ll be late if I take the long way around. So he smoothed his hair, rubbed an imaginary spot out of his cuirass, and took a brave step toward the lamplight down the hall.

  “Ciacco?”

  Ciacco hesitated, then turned around. “Incipio?”

  “What are you doing up here?”

  Ciacco scowled. “Mira’s tits, where have you been?”

  Marcus’ ears flushed. “What do you mean?”

  “I called you back almost three months ago.”

  Marcus’ pulse skipped. You knew that was coming. Stay calm.

  “Ligari didn’t tell you?”

  Ciacco narrowed his eyes. “No. What?”

  “I never received it.”

  “What?”

  “Your letter.”

  Ciacco squinted harder. “Why not?”

  “I don’t know.” Marcus’ tone sharpened. “Your guess is as good as mine. You know how often the Jormunds go after those southern courier posts.”

  A brief, uncomfortable silence fell as Ciacco sized Marcus up, all the way from his polished boots to the cowlick at the top of his head.

  “Huh,” Ciacco finally grunted, and laid his good hand on the balustrade. “Got to strengthen their guard presence. We can’t afford mistakes like that.”

  Marcus stiffened and cleared his throat, but didn’t say anything.

  “Anyway, listen. You may want to dust off your summer-weight uniform. We could be heading to Juba soon.”

  Marcus pretended to be surprised. “Juba?”

  “That’s right.”

  “To do what?” Marcus asked.

  “What do you think? Same thing we’ve been doing up north. Except hopefully not a complete, unprecedented fuck-up this time.”

  Marcus feigned concern. “When did this happen? Was I gone?”

  “Today. I told Hector it’s time to pull out.”

  Marcus widened his eyes. “Oh.”

  “Do these people have any idea where they’d be without me?” Hector yelled - barely audible, but still ranting from his perch in the war room.

  “The only reason we’re still there is ‘cause we didn’t take decisive action before. We should’ve torched the Severin capital when we had the chance.” Ciacco shifted on his feet to redistribute his stocky frame. “Bunch of creepy little politicians, trying to go behind our backs. If we’d done it my way, we could’ve annexed the whole damn province by now.”

  “You think so?” Marcus cocked his eyebrow. “Antipov seems all right to me.”

  “Shit, even the peasants are double agents. Can never nail down which side they’re on.”

  “Huh.” Marcus studied the gray veins in the marble rail, and answered in a calm, insinuating voice. “Guess I’ve never seen that side of them before.”

  “I get rid of their taxes, I give them the first decent army in decades,” Hector roared. “And this is how they thank me? Who the fuck do they think they are?!”

  “Anyway, we didn’t, so the whole thing went to the dogs. And now the silver’s gone.” Ciacco looked disdainful. “Might as well put it down while we still can.”

  “You know, I have to admit, Ciacco, that sounds strange coming from you.”

  “Does it?”

  “Doesn’t it?” Marcus repeated. “I mean, you’re half the reason we went.”

  “Everyone has their limits,” Ciacco grumbled.

  “That doesn’t sound like you either.”

  “This war’s done things to all of us.” Ciacco rubbed his bad elbow. “We both know it’s time to start fresh.”

  “You tell them…!” Hector bellowed, and a bird flapped off the roof.

  “You have told him nobody’s ever beaten Juba in a land war, right?” Marcus asked.

  “Course I have.”

  “And he still wants to.”

  Ciacco adjusted the strap on his sling. “Course he does.”

  Marcus sighed. “Of course he’s the kind of man who thinks he can take on Juba.”

  “I know.” Ciacco let go of the strap. “He’s got balls like a bull, I’ll give him that.”

  The young man fled from the war room, and his footsteps echoed down the stairs.

  “I’ve been saying for years he was going to get hungry for Juban gold. Their strength never factored into it.” Ciacco shifted his weight again. “I mean, you know how Hector is. No prize is too big for him. And if he can’t have it, by the time he’s through with it, no one else will.”

  Marcus remembered Lady Camilla, and a chill ran down his spine.

  “Well…” Marcus backed away from the balustrade - “I’d better go.”

  Ciacco smirked. “What, is Livia gonna start without you?”

  “I was supposed to meet with Hector tonight.”

  “Give him a moment.” Ciacco eyed the war room. “Sounds like he’s pretty hot.”

  Marcus adjusted his cloak clasps and started down the hall. “I will.”

  “Oh, and, Incipio…”

  Marcus glanced over his shoulder. “What?”

  “Look out for yourself.”

  Marcus paused, then tilted his head. “Why?”

  “I heard about what happened to Pontifex Florian and the Beauregards. Hector thinks we’re being picked off.” Ciacco nodded to him. “Might want to watch your neck.”

  •••

  Upstairs, Hector lingered by himself in the war room - a wide, dark chamber with a square table and a bright oil lamp above.

  He gazed down at the world map painted on the recessed tabletop, and peered at the wooden figurines that dotted it like a chessboard. A gray stone tower in the north for the occupied Severin capital. A blue banner in the eastern snowfield for the Jormund capital. A motley collection of horses and soldiers for operations, encampments, and forts, and a white stallion in Histria to represent himself.

  Hector reached across the board and picked the stallion up, then searched the crowded fields with a mischievous look on his face. When he found a Jormund soldier, he cradled his chin in his free hand, and snarled as he knocked it over and sent it rolling on its side.

  “Your Majesty?”

  Hector glanced up and found Marcus standing in the doorway, with the gold hall light on his back and a deep shadow on his front.

  “Oh.” Hector blinked, then let go of his chin. “General Incipio. What?”

  “I hope I’m not too early for our meeting.”

  “No, uh…” Hector waved him over - “come in.”

  Marcus came through the doorway with his chin up and his shoulders back, and approached Hector with careful footsteps - not too cold, but not too close.

  “You asked to meet me at the right time,” Hector said. “I need
to talk to you.”

  “Do you?”

  “I want all you generals to close ranks. We’re having a big operation soon.”

  “Operation Nightfall?”

  Hector balked. “How do you already know about that?”

  “Word gets around fast with officers. You can’t hide something that big for long.” Marcus meandered toward the table, circling around Hector in the dark. “The way I heard it, Ciacco was anxious to get things started.”

  “He was.”

  “Do you wonder if he’s a little too anxious?”

  Hector squinted. “What?”

  “I’m not trying to lead you to anything. I’m just curious.” Marcus folded his hands behind his back. “Has anything about him seemed… off to you?”

  Hector thought about it, then answered, “No.”

  Marcus scratched his neck. “Hmm.”

  Hector looked perplexed again. “What?”

  Marcus held his finger up. “Indulge me.”

  Hector impatiently shifted his weight.

  “If we pull this off, Operation Nightfall will be a crushing end to the war. Even if we lose, it’ll go down as one of the most ambitious offensives of all time.”

  Hector looked offended he’d even suggest it. “We’re not going to lose.”

  “All right. We’ll assume that.” Marcus shrugged and conceded, then went on. “Still, any time you go into battle, you have to weigh the pros and cons. It’s not something to be taken lightly. Especially not something this large.”

  Hector fidgeted in his purple tunic, like he would run away if he got the chance.

  “Now.” Marcus kept talking in a measured tone of voice. “Why do you think Ciacco agreed so quickly?”

  “Because he’s a general. He answers to me.”

  “You can dig a little deeper than that.” Marcus finally stepped closer to the lamp. “With all due respect, if this goes wrong, it’ll end his career, if not his life. No one agrees to a plan like that unless there’s something else at work.”

  “Get to the fucking point. Stop trying to talk over my head.”

  “All right.” Marcus gave him a small, obsequious bow. “As you wish.”

  Hector eyed him with suspicion, crossed his arms, and waited for him.

  “You’ve told Ciacco to wage total war on the Jormund capital. A man who’s been a soldier as long as him? He knows that’s a dangerous move.” Marcus paced in and out of the harsh light above the map. “But Ciacco nods. He says he’ll do it. He shows the proper respect. Why would he go against his own army’s interest?”