Mickey Reichert - Flight of the Renshai

"Well, Jaxon. Perhaps after you've cleaned this mess and are prepared to bring us more food, you'll have the wisdom to make two trips."

That's it? The Kjempemagiska did not seem nearly as cruel as the imprisoned alsona had suggested. I don't suppose they can punish every infraction with death. Otherwise, they would lose their servants: if not to murder, then to paralyzing fear, escape, or mutiny. "Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord. How wise of you, my lord."

Tae set to the task of cleaning, attempting to appear eagerly efficient while actually lingering over the task.

The standing generals retook their seats.

The Kjempemagiska went back to business. "They have armies on how many beachfronts currently?"

The general Tae now knew as Fallon responded. "We believe three, my lord. Two on the south coast, with mountains between them, and one on the west coast."

"None on the east?" someone asked incredulously.

Tae casually turned his head toward the table to see one of the generals tracing the coast of his own realm.

"It's wide open."

Another man spoke as Tae returned to picking up the largest shards of glass and laying them in the basket. He had known bringing the Eastern forces westward would open his coast to attack. The alsona could take the entire country with little resistance, but the same geographical concerns that kept the East separated from the West most times would come into play.

Another of the generals pointed out what Tae already knew. "Wide open, but essentially useless. This band of mountains cuts the eastern part of the continent off from every other place. There's only one workable pass, and that's guarded by a large force here."

Tae did not have to look to know where "here" was. The East's only connection to the remainder of their world was the pass onto the barren Western Plains, where the Eastern army now massed. He set to gathering the smaller shards of glass. He appreciated the cloth lining the basket; he would not need to go above decks looking for rags to sop up the spillage.

"That could also work as an advantage." A new voice this time. "If we take the eastern quarter of the continent, we can fortify it. So long as we protect that pass, we're safe.Then, once we have magical forces, we can go over the mountains and attack from every direction."

Firuz' voice was ice. "You're awfully free with the lives of your masters, Kalka."

Kalka apologized as profusely as Tae had. "You're right, of course, my lord. I wasn't thinking."

A tense silence settled over the group. Tae paid them no obvious attention, trying to look absolutely absorbed in his work. He could only guess at the details. Apparently, they intended for the alsona to fully front the battle, keeping the Kjempemagiska safely home until needed. That boded well for the allies, at least until the war reached that critical stage.

Apparently trying to defuse the situation, Fallon cleared his throat. "We haven't checked the northern shores, my lord. North of these mountains…"

Northern Weathered Range, Tae filled in, still on the floor working to clean up the mess.

"… it's uninhabitably cold, by our reckoning."

Except to Northmen, Tae finished. And they're just crazy.

"Where, exactly, are the beachfronts?" someone asked. "Here, I assume, for one. And here."

Tae wished he could see where they indicated, but looking too often posed an unaffordable risk.

"Correct," Fallon said. "And the third one's here, on the west side. They have the largest army concentrated here."

Tae knew that corresponded to Bearn.

"They only have about a third as many men here and even fewer here."

The Western Plains and the open west coastline. Tae used the lining cloth, and the napkins, to mop up the spilled wine.

"I'm thinking," Fallon continued, "we could send a diversionary force toward their main body, then hit them hard on the west coast. It might take a week or so for their main force to reach us."

Tae dropped the soaked cloth into the basket, using the remaining napkins to dry up the last of the liquid and the tiniest pieces of glass. He glanced up in time to see Firuz' face locked in a tight grimace.

"No," the Kjempemagiska finally said. "We will attack them at their strongest point. If we can't best them there, we will never win this war. And, if we can, we will have won it in a single battle." He added with an actual hint of compassion, "And, in the long run, we will lose fewer soldiers by not splitting our ranks, diversionary or otherwise."

Tae tossed the butter crock and bread into the basket, on top of the sodden linens. If the alsona sailors were like his own people, Tae knew they would not worry about the condition of the ruined food, only about the taste. They would snack well on what the generals would no longer touch, so long as they avoided the glass shards.

The generals' conversation descended into strategic details involving the commanders and battalions; and, with his cleaning finished, Tae found it safest to leave. As the discussion became more finely honed, he understood fewer words, especially punctuated by given names, ship names, and titles.

Swiftly, Tae headed up the stairs, through the hatch, and onto the deck, quickly lowering the door behind him. The instant it closed, something bumped against it. Fear seized him. Did they figure me out? Is someone coming after me? He drew back into the shadows, watching and waiting, but no one came.

Tae set the basket down as his heart rate subsided to normal. "Imorelda," he whispered, glad the cat had followed his orders to hide. She had been right to brag about her stealthiness; even in broad daylight, knowing she was aboard, he could not find her.

The cat did not reply, with presence or mental voice.

"Imorelda," Tae called, a bit louder.

A sailor appeared from around the mainmast and studied Tae quizzically. "Did you say something?"

Tae shook his head, frowning. "No. Did you hear something?"

The sailor did not reply, only studied Tae more carefully in the full sunlight. "Who are you?"

Tae thought it best to stick with as much of his story as possible. "Jaxon. I came with General Fallon." He peered about cautiously, hoping he would spot Imorelda, and the sailor would not.*Imorelda,* he mind-called carefully, worried she might still have him attuned to the alsona's level. She would hear him, but they would also.

The sailor continued to stare. He did not seem to notice Tae's call. Yet, suddenly, his expression changed from curious to suspicious. He drew a wicked-looking knife from his belt, its blade curved and serrated. "Answer my question… Jaxon."

"I did," Tae insisted. "I told you-" It occurred to him abruptly that the man had asked something mentally. And he had not heard. Which meant Imorelda had dropped the alsona's communication level, she had passed beyond range of their connection, or she was dead. No. Tae refused to accept the latter possibility. Then, little things came back to haunt him: the light touch as he descended to the captain's quarters, the lost footing, the bang against the hatch as he closed it. She followed me down. A worse realization struck him. And she's still stuck there.

Knife leading, the sailor lunged for Tae so suddenly he dodged more from instinct than intent. As he whirled to run, Tae seized the handle of the basket and hurled it toward the sailor. He did not pause to see if it hit. Though he had lost his mental connection, Tae could imagine the call of "intruder" touching every mind above decks.

A grunt reached him, then a cry, followed by the pounding of many footfalls on the deck. Tae risked a glance back as he rounded on the hatch. Men raced toward him from the fore, sailors with knives, soldiers with swords, and even a few dragging out small bow-like weapons to which they were fitting strange, metal arrows. He could scarcely believe they had mobilized so fast.