“Your Majesty!” Miles called out and stood up, and the rest did as well.
“You may all be seated,” said Asher. The eleven sat down as he sat at the table head. Sprawled over the center of the table was a map of the Dawnlands, and dozens of statuettes of men, horses, and ships were sprawled out across the various territories. Half of those seated wore fine tunics while the other half wore Emberland armor.
“If I am not already acquainted with you, please state your name and stronghold. Let’s start to my right and go around the table,” said Asher.
“Lord Jacob Tandon of the Greenhold.” The old lord’s voice remained strong and youthful. White chest hairs crept from the binding of his tunic.
“Lady Velma Stafford of the Black Hills and Stafferton.” The lady could not have been much older than forty. She was dressed in a masculine tunic that disguised her more feminine features.
“Colonel Rick Stafford, brother-in-law of the Lady Velma.” The Colonel wore Emberland armor, but the Flame was engraved on the upper-right portion of the breastplate instead of the standard larger one.
“Lady Michelle Wilkinson of Lumen’s End.” The lady appeared to be fifteen years Asher’s senior and quite striking in her leather battledress, but he forced his eyes to not linger.
“General Wicker Loomis of Lumen’s End.” This one had a less-intimidating face than one would expect of a military leader, but Asher paid no mind to that.
General Miles sat across from Asher at the table’s other end and gestured his head to the next person.
“Colonel Richard Lockhart of Ashguard.”
“Travis Bronson, the Lord of Ashguard.” Lord Bronson was at the later end of middle-aged, with a handsome and mature face outlined by black and gray hair.
“Lord Alfred Fiskman of the Firedust Fields, and Lord of the Blackwell Fortress.” Lord Fiskman’s look was suspicious, but Asher could not figure why.
The table ended full circle with Colonel Schafer, who sat directly to Asher’s left. Asher looked upon each of the high officers and nobles who sat at his table. He sat in silence for a few moments while they looked at him patiently. Some of them appeared to be studying Asher the way he had studied them as they spoke their names. Are they here for me? My father? For the Emberlands? News of the Headland invasion of the Rocklands would not have reached them so soon, so they answered the call of duty out of honor or respect, at the very least.
“I must extend my sincere gratitude, for answering my call in these troubling times.”
“Are the times more troubling than usual?” Lord Fiskman asked, raising his eyebrows in such a way that indicated unnaturally morbid curiosity.
“I’m afraid so. My informants have sent me terrible news. The Headlands have declared war upon the Rocklands.” The table was awed and silent, with jaws dropped and looks of great concern. Asher continued, “With the Emperor in the Headlands while the Rocklands are being besieged at sea, I can only assume that the Yamamotos and Howells have false intentions about the armistice. The Emperor may already be dead or captured.”
“Dead or captured?” Lady Wilkinson repeated with a hint of anger.
“Whatever the case may be, war with the Headlands and Midlands is inevitable, I fear to say.” Asher leaned forward, placed his elbows on the table and clasped his hands, anticipating a response.
“How did you receive word of this so quickly, your Majesty?” Lord Tandon questioned.
“Quickly?” Asher squinted in mild confusion.
“I am only trying to make sense of the timeline, your Majesty. I do not mean to question you,” said Tandon.
For a moment, Asher forgot that he learned of the Headland invasion through the Conduit, a secret so well-guarded that even he had only learned about it quite recently. As for the news of the impending Headland invasion of the Rocklands, Miles had stated that the likely target would be Robinsport, and the Headland fleet at top speed would take three weeks minimum to reach their target, and even more time for a conventional messenger to send word of such an attack. The timeline would seem odd from another’s perspective, Asher realized.
“My father had informant networks throughout the Headlands, and they sent word of the Yamamotos’ ill intent many months ago, and I received this news about six weeks ago.” Lord Tandon nodded and leaned back in his chair, seeming to believe Asher’s lies, and Asher moved on. “That is the purpose of this meeting. No one leaves this tent until we have an actionable plan.”
Lady Wilkinson leaned forward and placed her hand on the map. “General Wicker has informed me that the bulk of the Emberland fleet is in Kaiyotan, presumably, so our assets remain mostly on land?” she inquired.
“That is true, my Lady,” answered General Miles. “We have a very strong land presence once the rest of our army has joined this host. The naval assets that aren’t currently part of the Emperor’s party do remain strong, but not strong enough to defeat the Headland Navy.”
“We ought to keep the bulk of the fighting on land then,” Colonel Lockhart suggested.
“Then our biggest threat will be the Midlands, obviously. As such, I would like to be more familiar with Chairman Howell beyond his reputation. Have any of you met him?” Asher inquired.
“I have, your Majesty.” Lord Tandon lifted his hand. “I accompanied your father many years ago to Howell’s wedding, and I spoke with him a modest deal. He is straightforward, and a man of honor from what I could gather.”
“Honorable? You say that even after he decides to break the armistice?” Lady Velma protested.
“We do not know for certain that Howell was the one to coordinate this armistice-deception. All we know is that Yamamoto is invading the Rocklands and the Emperor is trapped in the Headlands,” said Asher.
“If anyone were guilty of breaking the armistice, it would definitely be Yamamoto,” Lord Bronson contributed. “With Ashguard being close to the Headland border, I have traded with and worked with him many times. The entire family has struck me as disrespectful with no shred of honor about any of them.”
The table grew silent, and Asher leaned forward to study the faces of his councilors. They all remained contemplative and looked down at the map of the Dawnlands sprawled before them. Asher joined them, studying the map with great focus, trying to find inspiration for any valid ideas. If Howell is more honest, and Yamamoto more treacherous, are the Midlands even a part of this war? They were allied through marriage, but perhaps Yamamoto has gone rogue? Asher resented the complexity of the situation. Geopolitical shitstorm were the words his father used to describe it, and he could not think up a better description.
Asher focused his attention on the northwestern stretch of the Emberlands, which bordered both the Headlands and Midlands, and he planted his finger on that portion of the map. “Here. We should keep our forces along this stretch. It will give us access to the Headlands and Midlands. We can set up camp near both borders and keep Howell and Yamamoto unsure of our intentions.”
“I agree with that,” Colonel Schafer said.
“As do I,” Colonel Lockhart said.
“Does anyone take issue with this plan?” Asher scanned the room, and every councilor nodded in agreement. “Good. We need to make sure the rest of our forces are aware of the new rendezvous up near Ashguard. We will begin marching this host tomorrow. We do not have enough ships to transport our entire army, so we will stick to moving by land. We can march at day and train by night. Does that satisfy everyone?”
None at the table protested, but rather all nodded approvingly. At least they can recognize a good idea when they hear it, Asher thought.
“Spend the rest of the evening training our soldiers and conscripts in battle tactics and discipline. We will begin our march an hour after sundown.” Asher turned his look to General Miles. “Make sure the message reaches the rest of our army down south, to meet us by Ashguard.” Miles nodded, then Asher addressed the rest of the table, “Thank you again, all of you. We accomplished what we needed her
e, so you’re all dismissed.”
At once, everyone stood up, nodded towards Asher, and exited the tent single-file. Once alone in the tent, Asher stood above the map and looked it over one last time carefully before leaving.
Asher decided to spend his last evening in Steeltower back in his original quarters. The room was not nearly as grand as his father’s, but it was the room he grew up in. The bed was barely large enough for him to fit, but it never felt more comfortable. I may never see this room again, Asher thought. Alone, he sobbed into the pillow as his past flowed viciously through his mind. The memories of growing up in Steeltower filled Asher with agonizing nostalgia: remembering his mother’s untimely death brought him anguish. Black Eyes’ mutilation of the prisoner at the village and the massacre that followed it were more vivid than the events themselves. The fleshy pits that were once the eyes of Black Eyes’ victim gaped at Asher, and the dark-red blood still flowed over the marble square. The feral look on the man who wanted to bite him screamed into his ears before the sword shot out of the man’s mouth like a viper’s red tongue.
Asher woke violently, rising from his bed, terrified and exasperated. Sweat crawled over his head and body, staining his bed. He stood up and quickly ran out from the bedroom and into the main room, and looked out the window upon the nighttime view of Steeltower. Hundreds of tiny orange torchlights glinted throughout the town and camp, shining light on the features of the tents and buildings that surrounded them. His breath began to slow down, and his heart calmed as he took in the view. The past stopped attacking him and he was able to take in the present. He sighed in relief as he rested his forehead on the glass, and his slow yet harsh breath fogged the window around his face. His stomach began to tighten, disorienting him as he began to think of the future.
I never imagined I’d be going to war, Asher thought. I’ll be expected to lead my people into battle against forces greater than my own. He looked down at his hands, which were shaking violently, then he thought of his soldiers, officers, and vassals. I cannot show them my weakness. If they don’t see me as formidable, they will stop respecting or following me.
Asher continued to gaze at the army camp and Steeltower town below. Then, he did not feel so small. These people belong to me, he thought. He clenched his fists in a triumphant mood and lifted his head off the window. The Emberlands are mine. And if I win this war, everything else will be too.
Once he returned to his quarters, he stripped until only his undergarments remained, and he climbed back into his now dry bed, then slept soundly through the rest of the night.
CH 21 – Black Eyes VI
The ride to the Furakuhold had taken a few days, and the Sapphire Prince and the Emperor had the Headland and Emberland traveling parties melded into one for the sake of unity, but Black Eyes had to stop himself from laughing at the idea. I know it’s bullshit, the Emperor knows, and so does this sapphire-wearing-nancy-boy, he thought. But still, the façade was only temporary, he wagered.
Black Eyes had his gaze locked onto the Sapphire Prince: not out of contempt, but for intensive study. Although he hated the Sapphire Prince with every fiber of his being, Black Eyes was attempting to learn everything he could during the short time he had to study him. He often boasted and talked endlessly about his love for and knowledge of horses. “If they have a certain shape of their snout, they tend to be slower but more sure-footed!” he bragged in one instance. Prince Hideki traveled with ten guardsmen, all of whom were supposedly elite warriors. All of them carried the usual longsword and dagger, but Hideki carried a sword with a curved blade like none Black Eyes had ever seen before. It would be strange to fight against, but Black Eyes was confident he would adapt.
Thirty Emberlanders were a part of the Emperor’s personal guard during the ride to Furakuhold. The weaker soldiers accompanied the Emperor, and the most elite men accompanied Black Eyes. The Emperor had arranged it so to throw off the Headlanders and make them focus the brunt of their inevitable ambush on weaker cannon fodder, while the elite squad led by Black Eyes could take the Sapphire Prince by surprise. None of the men knew of the plan, but they were given explicit orders to follow all of Black Eyes’ instructions without question.
Black Eyes resented having to abandon the Emperor, but his orders were absolute, and refusing them could make everything worse. Only they knew the Emperor was in a trap, and if word of their awareness reached the Headlanders, they might all die. It was an extremely delicate situation, and even the best-case scenario was not great.
Despite the certainty of Black Eyes’ objective, he sat on his horse resentful of the entire armistice and how the Emperor had blindly sailed himself into the viper’s jaw. You trusted the word of treacherous cunts and now we may all die for it.
Midway through the third day of travel, the Headland-Emberland convoy finally laid eyes upon the infamous Furakuhold fortress. It had been said by many that the fortress was impregnable, that no army could successfully take the castle if it were properly manned. Black Eyes saw no reason to doubt the legend. The fortress must have been thousands of feet across, and it was constructed within the pocket of a large mountain, so an army would have to storm through flat and open ground, scale the gargantuan stone walls, and break the massive gate while enduring a tremendous arrow storm.
“I present to you, the magnificent and glorious fortress of Furakuhold,” the Sapphire Prince proudly announced.
The words were immediately met with applause from throughout the party, but Black Eyes kept his arms motionless. He glared at the ramparts, which stretched over two hundred feet into the air. Along the battlements modest cannons were placed every one hundred feet, glaring down from the walls with violent intent. Countless blue-armored archers lined the battlements like statues to observe the incoming party, accompanied by over a dozen mid-sized cannons. Five hundred and forty men guard the wall, which is twice the number of soldiers in this party, and forty of our guys are with me or the Emperor. Only the Stars know how many fucking Headlanders are inside the fortress. An escape through the front gate would be impossible, Black Eyes surmised.
The gates were constructed of wood and steel and were at least a foot thick from what Black Eyes could see. The party began moving forward, and he reluctantly joined their stride. While his horse trotted forward, he turned around and scanned the ten men assigned to him. Nine of the men looked back at him, anticipating new orders. Troy, meanwhile, kept staring up at the wall with child-like wonder. Is he still drunk? An idiot? Both?
“Listen up!” Black Eyes muttered under his breath, so only his men could hear. They all tuned in to listen, including Troy, who maintained his wondrous expression while looking. “Stick together, and follow my every step, no matter what I do. Understood?” The men all nodded, despite the haunting tone in Black Eyes’ voice. The men shuffled their horses in closer proximity to one another as the party began to cross the gate.
Once he was through the gates and inside the fortress, Black Eyes could get a clear view of the main courtyard inside. Neatly paved gray stone walkways arranged a grid of grass patches over hundreds of square feet, and at the center was a massive marble foundation with a massive ivory statue of a Headland Royal Frigate. The statue could not have been a tenth the size of a true frigate, Black Eyes wagered, but it did sit proudly on the foundation amidst the square. At either end of the ship statue, water came pouring out the bow and stern, forming two majestic fountains. Countless stone or marble blocks were placed throughout the grassy grid to act as benches, and dozens of castle servants were in the courtyard, looking upon the party as they poured into the castle.
A few hundred Headland soldiers were posted throughout the courtyard or in the armories and lookout towers beneath the wall, seemingly a normal number, but Black Eyes thought it was odd. Dramatic military presence, no Rockland or Midland soldiers to be found… Yeah, totally normal. The Emperor was off in the front of the party with dozens of people who blocked him from view, but Black Eyes had to imagine that
he was suspicious too.
In a party of hundreds of Emberlanders and the same number of Headlanders, Black Eyes felt alone. He and the Emperor alone knew of the Headlanders’ treachery, and only they knew of the plan to seize the Sapphire Prince once the opportunity arose. But still, there was nothing in the immediate environment that seemed a valid escape plan. Hundreds of Headlander men-at-arms would cut him down instantly, and the courtyard offered no cover from the arrow storm that would greet him.
“You may dismount from your horses, my honorary guests, and see to their needs at our stables while the meeting is underway, and my people will show you around the castle and the courtyard while Emperor Harvey and I attend to our business,” the Sapphire Prince announced to the party.
The Sapphire Prince’s eyes met Black Eyes’ glare. They locked their eyes for what felt like an eternity. Black Eyes was not easily disturbed, but the Sapphire Prince’s eyes communicated nothing but dread and deceit. He seemed to be fatally suspicious yet cocky and apathetic. The Sapphire Prince looked at him with his uncomfortable stare, but never made a move. If he knew I planned to seize him, he would’ve stopped me already, right?
The Emperor had spoken to his guardsmen, but Black Eyes could not make out the words. The soldiers up front dismounted from their horses, and then instructed the nearby servants and attendants to see to them. One of the soldiers galloped down through the party and spread the message down to the people behind. “Dismount from your horses and see them to the stables. If the Emperor has not requested you inside, you’ll remain in the courtyard!” The soldier continued to gallop down the line, repeating himself as he went on.
Black Eyes proceeded to dismount along with the ten men of his guard. The attendants nearby quickly saw to the horses for them without needing to be told. The knot in Black Eyes’ stomach continued to tighten along with his throat. He continued to scan the area, desperate to find the escape he needed, but nothing stood out to him as viable. No ducts, no cover, no anything that I can use to make it out of here alive, he observed. Is this place where I am going to meet my end? Will I die by that dead-eyed sapphire-encrusted boy? Black Eyes did not fear the idea of death, but having people know that Prince Hideki Yamamoto slew him was the worst scenario he could imagine.
The Darkness of Dawn Page 17