David Eddings - Enchanter's End Game

When General Varana politely limped into the room where Ce’Nedra impatiently awaited him, there was a faint smile hovering on his lips and a quizzical lift to one of his eyebrows. “Your Majesty,” he greeted her with a bow,

“Uncle Varana,” the princess exclaimed, flying to embrace him. Varana was not, in fact, her uncle, but she had always thought of him as such.

“What have you gone and done now, my little Ce’Nedra?” He laughed, enfolding her in his thick-muscled arms. “You’re turning the world upside-down, you know. What’s a Borune doing in the middle of Algaria with an Alorn army at her back?”

“I’m going to invade Mishrak ac Thull,” she declared impishly.

“Really? Whatever for? Did King Gethell of Thulldom insult the House of Borune in some way? I hadn’t heard about it.”

“It’s an Alorn matter,” Ce’Nedra replied airily.

“Oh, I see. That explains it, I suppose. Alorns don’t need reasons for the things they do.”

“You’re laughing at me,” she accused him.

“Of course I am, Ce’Nedra. The Anadiles have been laughing at the Borunes for thousands of years.”

She pouted. “It’s very serious, Uncle Varana.”

“Naturally it is,” he agreed, gently touching her out-thrust lower lip with one thick finger, “but that’s no reason not to laugh about it.”

“You’re impossible,” Ce’Nedra said helplessly, laughing in spite of herself. “What are you doing here?”

“Observing,” he told her. “Generals do that a lot. You’ve got the only war that’s going on just now, so several of us thought we’d drop by and have a look. Morin suggested it.”

“My father’s chamberlain?”

“I think that’s his function, yes.”

“Morin wouldn’t do that—not on his own.”

“Really? What astonishing news.”

Ce’Nedra frowned, nibbling absently at a lock of her hair. Varana reached out and took the lock out from between her teeth. “Morin doesn’t do anything unless my father tells him to,” Ce’Nedra mused, once again lifting the curl to her lips.

Varana took the lock out of her fingers again.

“Don’t do that,” she told him.

“Why not? That’s the way I broke you of sucking your thumb.”

“This is different. I’m thinking.”

“Think with your mouth closed.”

“This was my father’s idea, wasn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t presume to say I knew the Emperor’s mind,” he replied.

“Well, I would. What’s that old fox up to?”

“That’s hardly respectful, child.”

“You say you’re here to observe?”

He nodded.

“And perhaps make a few suggestions?”

He shrugged. “If anyone cares to listen. I’m not here officially, you understand. Imperial policy forbids that. Your claim to the Riven throne is not formally recognized in Tol Honeth.”

She cast a sidelong glance at him through her thick eyelashes. “These suggestions you might make—if you happened to be near a Tolnedran legion that seemed to need a bit of direction, is it at all possible that one of these suggestions might be ‘forward march?’ ”

“That situation might arise, yes,” he admitted gravely.

“And you have a number of other officers of the general staff with you?”

“I think several of them do, in fact, serve occasionally on that body.” His eyes were twinkling with suppressed mirth.

Ce’Nedra lifted the lock again, and General Varana took it away from her once more.

“How would you like to meet King Rhodar of Drasnia?” she asked him.

“I’d be honored to meet his Majesty.”

“Why don’t we go see him, then?”

“Why don’t we?”

“Oh, I love you, Uncle.” She laughed, throwing her arms about him again.

They found King Rhodar in conference with the other leaders of the army in a large airy chamber King Cho-Hag had set aside for their use. There was no longer any pretence of formality among the leaders of the army, and most of them sprawled in comfortable horsehide chairs, watching as the crimson-robed Rhodar measured off distances with a piece of string on a large map that covered one entire wall.

“It doesn’t really seem all that far to me,” he was saying to King Cho-Hag.

“That’s because your map is flat, Rhodar,” Cho-Hag replied. “The country’s very hilly through there. Believe me, it will take three days.”

King Rhodar made an indelicate sound of disgust. “I guess we’ll have to give up the idea, then. I’d like to burn out those forts, but I’m not going to start ordering suicide missions. Three days’ ride is just too far.”

“Your Majesty,” Ce’Nedra said politely.

“Yes, child?” Rhodar was still frowning at the map.

“I’d like for you to meet someone.”

King Rhodar turned.

“Your Majesty,” Ce’Nedra said formally, “may I present his Grace, the Duke of Anadile? General Varana, his Majesty, King Rhodar of Drasnia.”

The two men bowed politely to each other, their eyes probing, assessing.

“The general’s reputation precedes him,” King Rhodar noted.

“But his Majesty’s skill as a military man has been kept a secret,” Varana replied.

“Do you think that satisfies the demands of courtesy?” Rhodar asked.

“If not, we can both lie a little bit later on about how excruciatingly polite we were to each other,” Varana suggested.

King Rhodar flashed him a quick grin. “All right, what’s Tolnedra’s leading tactician doing in Algaria?”

“Observing, your Majesty.”

“You’re going to stick to that story?”

“Naturally. For political reasons, Tolnedra must maintain a neutral posture in this affair. I’m certain that Drasnian intelligence has briefed your Majesty on the realities of the situation. The five spies you have in the Imperial palace are thoroughly professional.”

“Six, actually,” King Rhodar noted in passing.

General Varana raised one eyebrow. “I suppose we should have known,” he said.

“It changes from time to time.” Rhodar shrugged. “You know our strategic situation?”

“I’ve been filled in, yes.”

“What’s your assessment—as an observer?”

“You’re in trouble.”

“Thanks,” Rhodar said dryly.

“The numbers dictate that you take a defensive posture.”

Rhodar shook his head. “That might work if all we had to worry about was Taur Urgas and the Southern Murgos, but ’Zakath is landing more troops at Thull Zelik every day. If we fortify and try to sit tight, and he decides to move against us, he’ll be able to bury us in Malloreans by autumn. The key to the whole situation is putting Anheg’s fleet into the Sea of the East to stop those troop ships. We’re going to have to gamble a bit in order to pull that off.”

Varana studied the map. “If you’re going to go down the River Mardu, you’ll have to neutralize the Thullish capital,” he said, pointing at Thull Mardu. “It’s an island—like Tol Honeth—and it’s right in the middle of the river. You’ll never get a fleet past it as long as a hostile force holds it. You’ll have to take the city.”

“That had already occurred to us,” King Anheg said from where he sprawled in his chair with his ever-present ale cup in his hand.

“You know Anheg?” Rhodar asked the general.

Varana nodded. “By reputation,” he replied. He bowed to King Anheg. “Your Majesty,” he said.

“General,” Anheg responded, inclining his head.

“If Thull Mardu is heavily defended, it will cost you a third of your army to take it,” Varana continued.

“We’re going to lure the garrison out,” Rhodar told him.

“How?”

“That’s going to be up to Korodullin and me,” King Cho-Hag said quietly. “Once we get to the top of the escarpment, the Mimbrate knights are going to move out and crush every city and town in the uplands, and my clansmen will strike down into the farming regions to burn every standing crop.”