Michael Stackpole - When Dragons Rage

Naelros kept his head bent and would not meet her gaze. “I have come south, Highness, for I have failed the empress. I have brought my troops to help here and to search. One of the fragments was stolen from Draconis. Others are out hunting, but there is a chance the thieves tried to come south. We will find them, but our strength is needed here.”

It will be most welcome, Naelros.

Anarus snapped his jaws at that assertion. “Your strength may be needed, but you dilute our strength with your suggestions.” The lupine sullanciri moved to a table upon which had been spread a large map of Muroso. Heavy silver candlesticks held down the corners, and up by Porjal wax had already spilled onto it. “The only course of attack is to drive on Caledo. Once we strike the head, the body will die.”

Yet because this is the obvious course, Anarus, they will defend against it.

“What matter? They cannot stand against us!” The sullanciri hunched his shoulders and raked his clawed hands through the air. “We have the might—with or without your people, Naelros—to crush their capital.”

Naelros slowly rose to his feet and walked to the map. He kept his gait steady and slow, but his long legs devoured the distance. The table touched his legs just above his knees and he had to bend down to tap a taloned finger to the map. “The coastal cities are easier to take. Once we eliminate them, we will be able to reinforce and resupply ourselves, and they will have nothing. We close the border with Saporicia and Muroso dies.”

“Take Caledo, and the coastal cities will open themselves to us.” Anarus turned and nodded toward Tythsai. “You concur, yes?”

The female sullanciri said nothing, but her right hand tightened into a fist. Her fluid metal fingers drove down through her palm and emerged as spikes through the back. The end of her limb thickened as the fist became a spiked mace. One long spike grew from the top of it and she tapped that against the map’s representation of Caledo.

Neskartu reached out with a hand, letting his arm and fingers stretch out beyond all normal proportions. His fingertip played over the coastline. These are the better targets .

A low growl rumbled from Anarus’ throat. “What is it you fear?”

Nothing. The toll taken on my studeids and your stores offiredirt, however, was greater than expected. If we have the ports we enrich ourselves andhurt them.

Anarus snorted. “This is precisely why you are not in command of this invasion. Do you think supplies will flow here immediately? Yes, we can send ships from Vorquellyn, but this invasion will be won with the supplies already flowing south on the land route. There is nothing that can oppose us.”

Then you devalue the magery of Muroso.

“No, I count on you to rid me of their mages.”

This shall be done. What of the Norrington? What of Alexia of Okrannel?

Anarus started to snarl again, but Isaura’s gasp cut him off. “She is here!”

The wolf-thing’s head snapped around. “Who? Your mother?”

“No, this Alexia.” Isaura pressed her hands to her temples. When Neskartu had communicated the concept ofAlexia, it merged perfectly with the image of the blonde woman she’d seen when speaking with Nefrai-kesh. “She is in Caledo.”

“How do you know this?”

Naelros snorted a hint of steam. “Even I have heard rumors that the Norrington has come north to Muroso. Alexia travels with him. She will be a formidable foe.”

“A foe without dragonels.” Anarus glanced sidelong at Naelros. “A foe without your kin.”

“They are not for you to command, but for the empress.” The draco-morph’s dark eyes narrowed and his voice lowered in volume with no loss of timbre. “Anarus, you took Porjal, but it took longer than any other city. In Caledo you will face even more severe defenses. You may receive help, but if you insist on attacking the southlanders where they are the strongest, the cost of your victories will slay the invasion.”

“Were your prophetic visions accurate, Naelros, you would have foreseen the theft of the fragment. Your performance pleases our mistress not at all. Mine does, which is why I command here. I welcome your strength, but it is my vision that has brought us this far, and shall carry us further.”

He tapped a finger on the map. “Caledo will fall. There is nothing a foundling princess from Okrannel or a bastard gutterkin from Alcida can do about it. It is our empress’ will that Muroso fall, and so it shall. Before there is a hope of spring, this nation shall be ours.”

Will glanced through the open doorway of Princess Alexia’s room, as if making sure she was alone before he knocked on the jamb. “I’m sorry to disturb you.”

Alyx looked up from a chair near the fireplace and smiled. She had been preparing to enter the Communion to see if there was anything she could glean from them about Aurolani efforts elsewhere, but the apprehension on Will’s face made it easy for her to set that aside. “No, that’s fine, Will. What’s the matter?”

The thief hesitated, then began slowly. “I was wondering… um, I need some help.” He stepped into the room and extended the small parchment packet in his right hand toward her. “I got this message but, well, I can’t read.”

Alyx beckoned him farther into the room and he came reluctantly, which surprised her. He was more subdued than usual, and certainly more so than anytime since they’d started to put together the group that would attack Chytrine’s supply train. “Crow could have read it for you, or Resolute.”

He shifted his shoulders uneasily. “I would have asked them, but they’re busy. Kerrigan, too. I mean, not that you are not, but…”

“No offense taken.” She took the packet from him and turned it over one side, then the other. It had been sealed with red wax, but the seal meant nothing to her. The address on the reverse had been written in a clean hand and directed the packet to be delivered to Will Norrington in Caledo. Though there was no indication of who had sent it, Alyx was pretty certain it had been written by a woman.

The concern on his face suggested to her that he knew it was from a woman, too, which could have explained his reluctance to have Crow or Resolute read it for him. “Doesn’t say who it is from, but it is meant for you. It was sent here to you in Caledo.”

“So, it’s not from here?”

“Here?”

“ Here here, like from the palace or anything?”

“Probably not.” She shook her head, then pointed him to the other chair. “You can sit if you want.”

“I’ll be sitting enough when we ride out. I’ll stand.” Will swayed a bit from side to side, then crossed from the door and rested his hands on the back of the chair she’d pointed to. “You can open it.”

“I’ll have to if I’m to read it, won’t I?” She slid a thumb under the flap and broke the seal. She drew out two folded pieces of parchment and glanced at the bottom of the second page. “It’s signed, ‘The one you saved.’”

Will frowned for a moment and anguish washed over his face. “That’s it?”

Alyx looked at the first page. “Dear Lord Norrington, Since your departure from Meredo, the city has been in an uproar.”

The thief’s anxiety broke and he grinned. “It has to be from Sephi!”

The princess frowned. “Sephi is Scrainwood’s spy?”

“Was. That’s why she said you and Crow were married. She wanted to help me, so I made her my spy.” Will came around and seated himself on the edge of the chair. “What does she say?”

Alexia quickly scanned the two pages. “It’s mostly court gossip. Linchmere’s departure was noticed immediately, and folks are saying that he’s with you, or that Kenleigh and he are off on a mission to Fortress Draconis to save Erlestoke and bring him home to the throne. Various soothsayers are spreading the story that Erlestoke is still alive, but she thinks they might be stalking horses for a group of nobles who are looking to overthrow the king. If they hold Erlestoke up as some paradigm of virtue, King Scrainwood looks even worse, so the people will be upset. One of those lords ended up dead, so she supposes there is a shadow war going on, which is not good.”