Richard Parker - Elsewhere

“She never knew,” Gwaynn repeated and sat back down at the table. Monde looked at him, still breathing rapidly.

“And yes, Tar Nev can Travel,” he admitted softly, finally tired of evading her questions. Nev would just have to forgive him.

“I’m hungry,” Gwaynn added and looked about for food.

ǂ

“We cannot give them time to build greater strength!” Arden, the newly crowned King of the Deutzani said. “We have to attack…soon.”

High King Mastoc smiled slightly and glanced at Low Hothgaard, Captain of the Temple Knights. “So attack,” Mastoc said simply.

Arden glared at the High King for a moment, but kept his cool and sat down.

“I was not jesting,” the High King added after a moment. “Take back Solarii and then move down the finger of Massi and threaten Lynndon.”

Arden frowned and looked to Ja Brude, whose face remained infuriatingly blank.

“We do not have the men,” Arden finally said, looking away from his chief advisor. Perhaps it was time to replace the man. Brude had a tendency to disappear when truly tough decisions had to be made.

Mastoc shrugged. Hothgaard and King Weldon of the Palmerrio smiled at Arden’s discomfort, only King Donnish Rhondono showed the slightest sympathy for the young Deutzani King’s position. “You will attack Lynndon in two weeks time,” the High King commanded. “If you do not have the strength to take the town, you obviously do not have the strength to rule the Massi.”

Arden was about to speak when Ja Brude reached out and placed a hand on his forearm. “To what end do we attack?” he asked and nodded for his young King to be seated. After a moment Arden complied and looked to Mastoc for an answer.

“We’ll attempt to draw Prince Gwaynn out of Manse,” Mastoc said. “My spies tell me the Scar city will not be easy to take. We’ll need to outthink the Massi, force them out onto the plains, or better yet face them on the flats of the Plateau.”

“And if he comes for me,” Arden asked boldly. “Where will you be?”

Ja Brude held his breath at such recklessness. Arsinol was never so, not even when he was young. The High King however, laughed and moved to a large map showing all the lands of the Inland Sea. The map dominated the western wall of the great hall and everyone in the room stood and moved with the King to study it closer.

“I will be here,” the King said and pointed to the King’s Island. He laughed again, nothing it seemed could touch his good mood now that the majority of the Toranado fleet was at the bottom of the sea, “but Captain Hothgaard and my Temple Knights will be on troopships…here,” Mastoc explained, “ready to land on the plains northeast of Cape and move against the Massi rear if they are foolish enough to move against Lynndon.”

“We must not underestimate the Toranado navy at Cape,” Admiral Blakely of the Palmerrio cautioned while studying the map. He did not relish the thought of trying to get nearly a hundred troop ships passed the enemy triremes. Diminished or not, surprised or not, the Toranado navy was yet a threat. For centuries the Toranado were the finest, most well trained sailors on the Inland Sea and such a distinction did not disappear with one defeat.

Mastoc turned to the Admiral annoyed. “You have two weeks to deal with them.”

The Admiral frowned slightly. “They’ll not be surprised again.”

The High King suddenly turned an angry red. “You captured three dozen Toranado Triremes and sent double that to the bottom of their harbor. They are beaten. You will finish them quickly before they have time to regroup and cause us trouble.”

Blakely nodded, thinking perhaps he was being superstitious. The planning for the Battle of Eno had been his after all, and the victory though not decisive, was somewhat unexpected. The Toranado had not lost a sea battle in nearly two hundred years. And though the combined navies of the Palmerrio, the Rhondono and the High King lost more ships than they captured or sunk, they still came out of the battle in a much better position than the Toranado.

“You must not underestimate the Massi Prince or his army,” Ja Brude suddenly interjected.

All eyes turned to him, but for a moment the room was quiet.

“The Deutzani army he destroyed was seasoned and outnumbered the Massi by more than two to one,” Brude continued.

The High King smiled and nodded at the Deutzani advisor. “We will not allow the Massi brat to become comfortable in his hole at Manse. We’ll draw him out, even if the feint on Lynndon does not do the trick. Weldon will attack the Gap with several thousand men, but move the bulk of his force up to the Aleria Pass. He will threaten the Plateau from the south. With the Deutzani threatening Lynndon to the east, and the Palmerrio the Plateau from the south, Gwaynn will be forced to make a choice. If he goes for Lynndon, the Knights will be waiting on the plains to pounce, and if he chooses the Aleria Pass, I’ve full confidence in the Palmerrio to crush him on the open flats of the Massi Plateau. And while the Massi are engaged on the Plateau, the Knights will move against Manse and eliminate their sanctuary. Prince Gwaynn will not be able to just sit and hide in his new fortress city; if he does we will hit him from three sides. The young prince is trapped already, though he does not yet know it. Whatever decision he makes it will be the wrong one, and lead to the destruction of the Massi people.”

Arden smiled, as did Ja Brude. It was a thoughtful plan, designed to put pressure on the Massi from all sides, unlike the lumbering attack of Arsinol’s method of warfare. It could work. Ja’s disquiet eased some, but he still remembered the tenacity of the Massi fighters. Even in victory he felt sure the High King and his allies would pay dearly for the land of Massi.

III

The Executioner Lacombe left the home of Paulo Carnetti eager to be on his way. In his breast pocket he had a letter of recommendation signed by Paulo himself. It only took two days to convince the man of his Massi heritage and his good name.

‘Fools,’ Lacombe thought, but he could not truly blame them. The Massi army would need every strong-armed young man on their side if they were to face the Temple Knights, even then most would be slaughtered. Lacombe felt no sorrow or disappointment at the thought of so many Massi dead. He’d never been loyal to this country or its people, still for some odd reason he hoped the young ‘Prince’ gave the High King a challenge. If the Temple Knights were severely weakened it would put the Executioners of Sinis in a much greater position of power. After the naval engagement at Eno, the High King should realize what a powerful force the Executioners could be in battle, on land or at sea. The Tars of Sinis were a huge asset to the Palmerrio and Rhondono fleets. It would be good for Sinis if the High King grew ever more reliant on the special skills of the Executioners.

Paulo tried to persuade Lacombe to wait a bit longer before moving on to Manse. For some reason the merchant wanted to send large groups of men to the new city all at once, rather than have them trickle in one at a time. The merchant claimed to have nearly a dozen men waiting and the number should climb to about twenty if a few days time, but Lacombe would not be delayed and begged out, eager to get to Manse and kill the traitor. de Baard was giving Executioners a bad name and that was something he could not abide, after all it would only be a few short years before he was the High Tar of Sinis Island. He would challenge Nacht soon…perhaps when he was finished with this beautiful turncoat.

Though it was still hours before midday, Lacombe was already twenty miles down the finger of Massi and traveling at an easy but steady pace. He was happy with his choice of Sunwind, she might not be much to look at, but she was strong and had great stamina. If the weather held, he was positive he could make Manse in perhaps three more days, four at the most and five if he ran into trouble and was forced to kill someone slowly. Lacombe smiled at the thought, killing was always such a pleasant diversion.