Michael Sullivan - Nyphron rising

"Marshall Lord Blackwater," he corrected with a friendly smile and handed over his letter of reference.

Parker took the letter, roughly unfolding it, and began reading.

Wavy wooden beams edged and divided the pale yellowing walls. Along these hung pots, sacks, cooking tools, and what Hadrian guessed to be Commander Parker's sword and cloak. Baskets, pails, and jugs huddled in corners stacked out of the way on a floor that listed downhill toward the fireplace.

After reading the letter, Parker returned to his seat and tucked his napkin back into his collar. "You're not really a lord are you?"

Hadrian hesitated briefly. "Well, technically I am, at least for the moment."

"What are you when you're not a lord?"

"I suppose you could call me a mercenary. I've done a lot of things over the years."

"Why would a princess of Melengar send a mercenary to me?"

"Because I can win this battle for you."

"What makes you think I can't win it?"

"The fact that you're still in this farmhouse instead of the city. You are very likely a good manager and quartermaster, and I am certain a wonderful bookkeeper, but war is more than numbers and ledgers. With Gaunt gone, you might be a bit unsure of what to do next. That's where I can help you. As it happens, I have a great deal of combat experience."

"So you know about Gaunt's disappearance."

Hadrian did not like the tone in his voice. There was something there, something coy and threatening. Aggression was still his best approach. "This army has been camped here for days, and you've not launched a single foray at the enemy."

"It's raining," Parker replied. "The field is a muddy mess."

"Exactly," Hadrian said. "That's why you should be attacking. The rain will give you the upper hand. Call in your captains and I can explain how we can turn the weather to our advantage, but we must act quickly-"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" There was that tone again. This time more ominous. "I have a better idea, how about you explain to me why Arista Essendon would betray Degan?"

"She didn't. You don't understand, she's-"

"Oh she most certainly did!" Parker rose to his feet and threw his napkin to the floor as if it were a gauntlet of challenge. "And you needn't lie any further. I know why. She did it to save her miserable little kingdom." He took a step forward and bumped the table. "By destroying Degan, she hopes to curry favor for Melengar. So what are your real orders?" He advanced pointing an accusatory finger. "To gain our confidence? To lead this army into an ambush like you did with Gaunt? Was it you? Were you there? Were you one of the ones that grabbed him?"

Parker glanced at Hadrian's swords. "Or is it to get close enough to kill me?" he said, staggering backward. The commander knocked his head on a low-hanging pot that fell with a brassy clang. The noise made Parker jump. "Simms! Fall!" he cried, and the two sentries rushed in.

"Sir!" they said in unison.

"Take his swords. Shackle him to a stake. Get him out of-"

"You don't understand, Arista isn't your enemy," Hadrian interrupted.

"Oh, I understand perfectly."

"She was set up by the Empire just as Gaunt was."

"So she's missing too?"

"No, she's in Ratibor right now planning a rebellion to aid your attack."

Parker laughed aloud at that. "Oh please, sir! You do need lessons in lying. A princess of Melengar organizing an uprising in Ratibor? Get him out of here."

One of the soldiers drew his sword. "Remove your weapons now!"

Hadrian considered his options. He could run, but he would never get another opportunity to persuade them. Taking Parker prisoner would require killing Simms and Fall, and destroying any hope of gaining their trust. With no other choice, he sighed and unbuckled his belt.

"Exactly how confident are you that Hadrian will succeed in persuading the Nationalists to attack tomorrow morning?" Polish asked Arista as they sat at the Dunlaps' table, while outside it continued to storm.

"I have the same level of confidence in his success as I do in ours," Arista replied.

Polish smirked. "I keep forgetting you're a diplomat."

Eight other people sat around the little table where the city lay mapped out using knickknacks borrowed from Mrs. Dunlaps' shelves. Those present were handpicked by Hadrian, Doctor Gerand, Polish, or Emery, who was back on his feet and eating everything Mrs. Dunlap put under his nose.

With Royce and Hadrian gone, Arista spent most of her time talking with the young Mr. Dorn. While no longer stumbling over using her first name, the admiration in his eyes was unmistakable, and Arista caught herself smiling self-consciously. He had a nice face-cheerful and passionate, and while he was younger even than Alric, she thought him more mature. Perhaps that came from hardship and struggle.

Since he regained consciousness she had babbled on about the trials that brought her there. He told her about his mother's death giving him life and growing up as a soldier's son. They both shared stories of the fires that robbed them of the ones they loved. She listened as he poured out his life's story of being an orphan with such intensity that it filled her eyes with tears. He had such a way with words, a means of inciting emotion and empathy. She realized Emery could have changed the world if only he were born noble. Listening to him, to his ideals, to his passion for justice and compassion, she realized this was what she could expect from Degan Gaunt. A common man with the heart of a king.

"You must understand it is not entirely up to me," Polish told them. "I don't issue policy in the guild. I simply don't have the authority to sanction an outright attack, particularly when there is nothing to be gained. Even if victory were assured, instead of a rather wild gamble, my hands would still be tied."

"Nothing to be gained?" Emery said stunned. "There is a whole city to be gained! Furthermore, if the Imperial Army is routed from the field, it is possible that all Rhenydd might fall under the banner of the Delgos Republic."

"I would also add," Arista said, "that defeating the Imperials here would leave Aquesta open for assault by the remainder of the Nationalists, Melengar, and possibly even Trent-if I can swing their alliance. Once Aquesta falls, Colnora will be a free city and certain powerful merchants could find themselves in legitimate seats of power."

"You are good. I'll grant you that, my lady," Polish replied. "But there are many ifs in that scenario, and the Monarchists won't allow Colnora to be ruled by a commoner. Lanaklin would assume the throne of Warric and likely appoint his own duke to run the city."

"Well, the Diamond's position will certainly continue to decline if you fail to aid us and the Empire's strength grows," Arista shot back.

Polish frowned and shook his head. "This is far beyond the bounds of my mandate. I simply can't commit without orders from the Jewel. The Imps leave the Diamond alone, for the most part. They see us as inevitable as the rats in any sewer. As long as we don't make too much of a nuisance, they leave us to our scurrying. But if we do this, they will declare war. The Diamond will no longer be neutral. We'll be a target in every Imp city. Hundreds could be imprisoned or executed."

"We could keep your involvement a secret," Emery offered.

Polish laughed. "Even if that were possible-which it's not-as the winner chooses which secrets are kept, you would have to prove you are going to win before I could help you and, clearly by then you would not need my assistance. I am sorry, my rats will do what we can, but joining in the assault is not possible."

"Can you at least see that the armory door is unlocked?" Emery asked.

Polish thought a moment and nodded. "That I can do."