The Conqueror's Shadow (54 page)

The regent slammed a fist upon the lectern, and the old wood cracked audibly beneath his blow.

“We've no more time for this!” he shouted. “No more bickering! No more politics!
No more!
We stand as
one! One
army,
one
authority,
one
community!

“Or we die.” Once more, the duke grew quiet, speaking so softly that the assembly now strained to hear. “Mecepheum will fall. We will fall. The Guilds, the nobles, all of us. And Imphallion …” His voice trailed off, then resumed. “Imphallion, too, will fall.

“We survived the Terror of the East almost twenty years ago. We did so
only
because we provided a single, cohesive front. If we are to survive him now, we must do the same.

“I call for a vote of this Assembly. Think hard on your choice here today, my friends. Think very hard. This will be the last time I ask this of you. Choose well, and there will be no need to do so again. Choose poorly, and go to your graves, content with the knowledge you have maintained the ‘sovereign rights' of your Guilds, and your houses—and all it cost you was your homes, your kingdom, and your lives.

“Let us vote.”

“DAMN
him!”

Fingers clenched in impotent fury, Audriss peered through the thinning smoke that hung across the dawn like morning mist. Around him, men tiredly trod from the nearby stream, a line of ants feeding their colony, buckets clasped in white-knuckled grips. Before him, atop a small hillock, lay the charred and sodden remains of what was once his massive tent. From the ashes of the canvas climbed occasional serpents of smoke, spawned of a few smoldering flickers not yet extinguished. Here and there protruded the scorched leg of a table or chair, the blackened corner of the iron maiden. His papers, his plans, his notes-all gone.

/It could have been worse,/
Pekatherosh noted clinically.
/It could just as easily have been you, not merely your furniture./

“Hardly. It takes more than a simple fire …” The Serpent trailed off into dark mutters. “This is
very
upsetting. All the things I'd prepared for him over the next few days … such a waste!”

/So tell Corvis. Send a messenger or something. He's a reasonable fellow. I'm sure he'll come running right back once you've explained the situation to him./

“You saw him, damn it!” Audriss erupted, gesticulating contentiously. “He couldn't
move
, let alone escape! He killed … How many men did he kill?”

/The guards on his tent, another who apparently stumbled over him while he was creeping up on
your
tent, and three more on his way out. Or rather four, since it's unlikely Evral will survive another day./

“Six or seven men. Not to mention stealing his equipment back from
my own tent
and setting the bloody thing on fire!” Behind featureless stone, Audriss scowled furiously. “He had help, Pekatherosh. He must have.

“They lied to me. This is why they wanted him back here in the first place: so he'd be near enough for them to work their magics.”

/You didn't suspect it might be a trick when they made their offer in the first place? You're not exactly the brightest star in the firmament, are you, Twinkles?/

“I underestimated them,” Audriss admitted in a low growl. “Look at everything we've built here, Pekatherosh. Imphallion has never seen an army such as mine, not even during Rebaine's own campaign. No one has come close to what we're about to accomplish.

“But I have no illusions, demon. This isn't about a cause. This is about me, and the fact that I can pay or otherwise compensate those who follow. If I fell on the field of battle tomorrow, this entire army would evaporate like so much steam.”

/And you assumed Rebaine's people were the same. That they would fall apart before they could make any real effort at retrieving him./

“I did. It is not a mistake I intend to repeat.”

/I'm so glad. There are so many new mistakes you've yet to make, I'd hate to see you wasting your time on old ones./

The Serpent glared at the gleaming ring. “I don't suppose you'd care to say something useful for a change, instead of just being a bloody nuisance, would you?”

/That
would
be a novel experience, wouldn't it? Might be interesting./

“Good. I—”

/On the other hand, there's something to be said for consistency./

A pause, punctuated only by the gnashing of teeth and a subaudible murmur that might, or might not, have qualified as speech.

/I'm sorry, I don't believe I caught that./

“Never you mind.” Without warning, Audriss lashed out and grabbed the nearest soldier, dragging the wide-eyed fellow by his collar. “Find my heralds,” the warlord said coldly. “Tell them to call for general assembly and then to break camp. I want to be at Mecepheum before the month is out.”

“Yes, my lord!” the man acknowledged, grateful to have escaped the dozen unnamable dooms that flashed through his head when the Serpent seized him. Except …

“Um, my lord?” he asked tentatively, mouth dry, palms sweating.

From the midnight hood, a gloss black mirror stared at him. “Yes?” The warlord's voice was calm, neutral, inhuman.

“I … I'm sorry, my lord, but you're … that is, you're still …”

“Ah.” Audriss released the soldier's tunic, taking a moment to pat the worst of the wrinkles from the material. “Is this better?”

“I … Yes, my lord, much better.”

“Then I suggest you make haste.”

“At once, my lord!” He all but sprinted into the encampment, knocking over breakfast pans, stepping on feet, and drawing a veritable retinue of curses in his wake.

“As soon as we're fully assembled, Pekatherosh, he's all yours.”

/Really? Not to sound ungrateful, Audriss, but may I ask why?/

“I want my people scared of me, but not so much so that they can't function. Any man that nervous around me is useless.”

/If you say so./

“I do indeed. I say, too, that it's about time we began the last phase of this little endeavor, Pekatherosh. We'll be standing at the gates of the capital in two weeks. It wouldn't do to be unprepared. Contact our friend; tell him it's time.”

/Are you sure? You yourself said it might raise unfortunate questions./

“Doesn't matter anymore, Pekatherosh. It doesn't matter at all. In two weeks, the Serpent's army will be camped outside the walls of Mecepheum.

“At that point, let Rebaine question whatever he wants. It won't help him now. And if he shows up at Mecepheum, well, he was the first to go after Selakrian's spellbook. Since it means so much to him, I'll be happy to show him what it can do.”

CORVIS REBAINE WAS CLAD
in
most
of his infamous armor. The confining helm leered at him from atop the table, along with the heavy gauntlets, and the missing spaulder had been replaced from a standard suit, transforming his left shoulder into a single spot of bright and burnished silver amid the unrelenting black. He sat on a heavy stool and stared at the parchment reports scattered across the table without really seeing them. As had become unconscious habit, he rubbed absently at the fresh scar that pulled at the skin of his left cheek.

“Are these numbers accurate?”

“As best we can determine, my lord,” Losalis told him. “I have only the scout's estimation to work with, but I've known the man for years. If he told me the grass was purple over the next rise, I'd be inclined to believe him.”

The warlord grimaced, the fingers of his right hand drumming miniature hoofbeats on the wood. “Then Lorum's finally done it. He's forced the Guilds and the houses to cooperate.”

“So it would seem. I don't see any other way he could have fielded a force that size.” The looming man grinned through his beard. “And all it took was an army camping on the doorstep. Threaten a man's home, it always brings out the protective instincts.”

“You've seen Audriss's army in action. How do you see it playing out?”

Losalis frowned thoughtfully. “Without our interference, it'll be close. Once the Guilds finally hopped on board, they held nothing back. As it says there,” he gestured at the report, “our best guess is that the regent can muster thirty thousand men. He won't field them all—he'll want to keep a good many back to defend the walls. Between numbers and fortifications, if all else was equal, I'd say Mecepheum could hold.

“But Audriss cheats. Considering the
types
of soldiers he can call on … well, he may find Lorum the toughest nut he's ever cracked, but he'll still come out ahead.”

“Then we'll just have to intervene, won't we?” Corvis observed. “We wait until the battle's joined, and then hit their flank. Hard.”

“Umm, my lord, you
do
remember what I told you about Pelapheron, don't you?”

Corvis laughed. “Relax, Losalis. I've been through a lot, but I haven't gone insane or senile. Not quite, anyway. Yes, I know it's the same tactic you utilized at Pelapheron. Audriss may even be expecting it. But so what? If our numbers are accurate, he can't afford to hold anything more than a token force back from the main battle. Even if he knows we're coming, he can't throw much at us to stop us. He doesn't have the manpower.” His smile grew tight. “Go get some sleep. It's midnight, and I doubt Audriss plans to spend any longer camped on Lorum's doorstep than he has to. I imagine we'll see the first attack tomorrow morning. I want to be ready the instant our opportunity presents itself.”

Losalis departed with a swift salute.

“Well,” Corvis said to the empty room, “you've been awfully quiet tonight. What's the matter? Not feeling well?”

/I feel like hell./

“Oh, ha. Ha, ha. And, in case I forget to mention it later, ha.”

/You're the one who asked the question./

“Seriously, Khanda. You didn't make a single comment the entire time Losalis and I were talking. For that matter, you haven't said much since we escaped from Audriss.” Corvis absently tapped a finger on the breastplate, close to where the pendant rested against his chest. “If I didn't know any better, I'd think something was bothering you.”

/And what, my porcine-brained companion, could have given you the impression that you
do
know better?/

The warlord blinked and leaned back slightly in his chair.

“You mean something
is
bothering you? I thought you didn't let
anything
get to you.”

/I doubt that./

“You doubt that I thought nothing got to you?”

/That you thought./

Corvis scowled. The demon was, if anything, even more pugnacious than usual. Utterly alien as the idea sounded, something really had upset Khanda. But it seemed unlikely that he'd admit it, and even less that he'd talk about it.

The Eastern Terror decided, reluctantly, to let it go. What else could he do?

So what he said instead was, “Well, as utterly stupefying as the notion may be to you, Khanda, I've got another idea.”

/Will wonders never cease? Or will I merely cease to wonder?/

“Right. Anyway, after what I've been through for the past few months, I think it best to minimize the possibility of us being separated again.”

/You enjoy having me around. I'm touched./

“You're not going to make this easy, are you?”

/If I was easy, you wouldn't respect me in the morning./

Corvis, who felt as if he'd just danced six or seven times around the tent, sensed that he was rapidly losing control of the situation. Determined to stay on track, he cleared his throat. “My point,” he said firmly, “is that it's too easy to lose a necklace, or to have it taken off. I think it's time we—and by ‘we,' of course, I mean you—expand our options.”