Killingford. Robert Reginald
you, Highness,” Gorázd Lord Aboéty said. “Are there any questions?”
The king motioned with his hand, and looked suspiciously around the room with his good eye.
“I want to know who’s behind this. And I want him stopped. Now!”
Arkády just stared at his father.
“Sire,” he said, picking his words carefully, “I’m sure we all share your sentiments, but what do you propose we do? We’ve exhausted our resources.”
“I don’t want excuses,” Kipriyán shouted back, glaring at each one of his ministers in turn. “I don’t want to hear excuses from any of you. Someone’s been tampering with the minds of my men. It’s the Dark-Haired Man, I’ll warrant. And if you’re not capable of finding him, maybe I’d better get someone who can. Well, I know what to do, even if you don’t. All of my ministers and all of my men must be checked regularly again for signs of mental interference.”
“What?” several of the council members shouted in unison.
“Who’ll do it?” asked another.
“Since we can’t trust any of your minds,” the king said, looking furtively around the room, “Melanthrix can validate each of you.”
“That charlatan!” Lord Vydór said. “He’s not even Psairothi. I can’t agree to this.”
“You’ll do what you’re ordered to do,” Kipriyán said.
Vydór slumped in his chair, his skin pale. Finally, he raised his head and looked the king straight in his good eye.
“No, sire, I shall not. I will not continue to participate in this charade, which is contrary both to the laws of God and the laws of man. If that doesn’t meet with your royal approval, then you can have my resignation from this council, effective immediately.”
He rose from his chair, threw his badge of office on the table, and headed toward the door.
“Arrest that man!” Kipriyán thundered.
Two guards surrounded the baron, who shook off their arms. He turned back to the table.
“So,” he said, “now it’s come to this. Those who render their advice honestly are to be called traitors. My king, I have followed you loyally for these past twenty years, through battles and tempests and even the thickets of political strife. Twice I saved your life on the field, once in the Åvarswood, once in Tretélgia. No one has been more steadfast than I. No one. And you’ve had no truer friend, my lord. But I’ll not have my mind tampered with by a non-Psairothi.”
Arkády rose in his place.
“Sire,” he said, seeking a compromise, “surely there must be another way to settle this. Let Fra Jánisar and his trained associates do the checking. They’ve investigated all of these recent deaths, they’re familiar with the hazards, and they’ll do an excellent job.”
Metropolitan Timotheos hurriedly broke in to second Arkády’s proposal.
“A sound idea, sire,” he said. “I assure you that the Church would frown on a non-Christian being involved in such a delicate procedure, particularly when it might affect the innermost workings of the government.”
As others around the council room began to chime in with their agreements, Kipriyán was forced to back down.
“Very well, I can see the wisdom of having more than one person involved in the scanning,” the monarch said, “although Jánisar himself could also be tainted. Therefore, to provide security against that possibility, Doctor Melanthrix will be present as an observer. That’s my final word on the subject. Lord Gorázd, order it done. Father Athanasios, record my words. Guards,” gesturing to the hapless Lord Vydór, “take the prisoner away.
“Now, let us turn to more positive matters,” Kipriyán continued in a more normal voice. “I have confirmed Commander Rónai as General of the Army ad interim, pending your recommendations on a possible replacement. We should probably appoint a high-ranking nobleman as a titular leader, since Rónai comes from common stock. I’ll expect some suggestions before our next meeting. What I need to know now is the general readiness of our forces to meet the May deadline.”
Prince Arkády had been preparing for this moment. Once more he rose in his seat, cleared his throat, and began his summation.
“As of today, sire,” he said, “we have approximately five thousand infantry and cavalry gathered west of the city, with another two thousand troops and mercenaries in Bolémiagrad, and perhaps a thousand men each at Myláßgorod and Aszkán. I expect these forces to double within the next two weeks. Equipment has been harder to assemble, given the state of the roads; I would guess we’re at one-third complement. Another third may arrive by the first of the month, or it may not. I doubt whether we’ll be able to reach our overall target of fifteen to twenty thousand soldiers by then.”
He wet his lips with a sip of water.
“The core of the army,” he said, “about eight thousand men, consists of the battle-hardened remnants of the forces that fought the northerners over the last two decades. These soldiers are both well-trained and -disciplined, and should provide us with very few problems. We have a similar corps of highly experienced line officers. The remainder of the troops, perhaps half, consists of raw recruits who have never fought an engagement, and who only have a barest idea of which end of the sword to grasp. We’re in the process of providing some semblance of instruction to these men, but it’s minimal at best.”
The prince looked up from his notes.
“I have personally examined all of the major units over the last month, and I worked closely with Lord Feognóst in assessing their effectiveness. His recommendation to you today—I know this for a fact—would have been either to postpone the enterprise, for lack of readiness, or to cancel it altogether. I must concur with his evaluation.”
There was a gasp from around the table as the councilors realized what the prince was saying.
“No!” the king roared, rising in his seat. “Never! I won’t hear of it. We haven’t come this far just to retreat. Whatever problems we face are nothing to what the Walküri must be experiencing. This is our best chance in a hundred years. I’m determined to go forward with the expedition as quickly as possible, proceeding with our grand exit from Paltyrrha, as planned, on the first day of May.”
Arkády lowered his head and looked at the pattern of the growth rings on the oaken table. He traced one of the whorls with his finger tip, as he pondered his next move.
“Father,” he said, looking up again, “I beg you to reconsider. The Walküri may indeed be having similar problems in readying their forces; in fact, I’m sure they are, because I’ve been receiving assessment reports from our scouts and spies in Pommerelia. But there’s a difference.
“When the barbarians invaded Kórynthia,” he continued, “our nation was rightfully outraged at the burning of Sevyerovínsk and the murder of thousands of innocent merchants and farmers there and in Arrhénë. They responded with an outpouring of men and materiel that was unprecedented in our history, because they realized that the very existence of the land was at stake. We waged war for an entire generation, finally destroying the barbarians at Åvargorod.”
The prince sipped again from the cup of water in front of him.
“But this is our enterprise, our doing, and we can expect the people of Pommerelia to react in the same way as we did years ago. Every farmer will be our enemy, every merchant a spy, every boy who can lift a pitchfork will dream of becoming a hero. Every hand will be turned against us, and they will nibble at our heels like a pack of mad dogs. And when we turn to kick them back, they’ll scamper away just out of our reach. Sire, I have no doubts about the bravery of our men. I have no doubts about the courage of our leadership. But I do doubt the justice of our cause. The signs are not good. The morale of our men has