The Shadowmage Trilogy (Twilight of Kerberos: The Shadowmage Books) (89 page)

BOOK: The Shadowmage Trilogy (Twilight of Kerberos: The Shadowmage Books)
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“My Lords, it is apparent to me that if we can find a way to take action against Vos, we should. The question remains, do we have that way? There are those among you better skilled in the ways of war, I have no doubt, but it seems to me that we have the perfect base of operations here, in my city of Turnitia. It is well-positioned to Vos’ weak southern frontiers and avoids the mess of the Anclas Territories.”

He saw Count Fournier smiling at him then, and had to stop himself returning it.
The old rascal has guessed exactly what I am going to say
, he thought. However, if the count had not interrupted him then maybe, just maybe, he could depend on a further favour. Or perhaps the count saw an advantage for himself in the idea – it amounted to the same thing, regardless.

“I have a large military force, twelve companies and still expanding,” de Sousse continued. “You all have large complements too. Together, we can form a credible army. As you all know, I have the wizard Tellmore in my keeping, a mage as learned as he is powerful. At this moment, he is in the Anclas Territories, retrieving an artefact of immense power, said to have been forged by the Old Races.”

That raised a few eyebrows, but it was Baron Durand that voiced the question they all had.

“And what does this great artefact do?”

De Sousse favoured him with a smile. “The tinkerings of wizards are far beyond a simple knight such as myself. However, this is something Tellmore has been working towards for a very long time, and if he tells me it contains enough power to decimate an army, I tend to believe him. As should all of you.”

He stopped for a moment to take a sip of wine, letting the vague implications of magical power settle on all of them.

“However, in truth, I would never bear total reliance on magic,” de Sousse said, setting down his cup. “Maybe the artefact is not everything Tellmore hopes, or perhaps he will be unable to unlock its secrets as quickly as we require. The mere fact that we have it will be enough to send shockwaves through both Vos and Pontaine. What will make this venture succeed for us is force of arms, and that we have between us in abundance. My soldiers, Fournier, your knights, de Biot, your archers – just think of the power we would wield on the field of battle if we combine our efforts!”

“So what is your plan?” de Biot asked.

“Speed is the essence. We strike fast, before Vos can mount a viable response. That way, we will face little more than house guards and militia, not a grand army.”

“All well and good, de Sousse,” said Rousseau, “but sooner or later, we
will
face a grand army. Vos will mobilise quickly.”

“Which makes the target so important,” de Sousse said smoothly, anticipating the argument. “We already have Turnitia, and that has gained me a lot of attention in Pontaine. Join me, and that attention becomes yours. Whatever we do after that magnifies our achievements – especially if we take something from Vos that is both close and highly visible.”

Rousseau stared at him in something approaching horror. “My God, man. You are talking about Scholten!”

Others round the table looked equally aghast. Count Fournier barked a laugh, apparently pleased with the audacity of the plan.

De Biot shook his head. “You are talking about a lot more than a few house guards and militia. Scholten is effectively the capital of the Final Faith. We’ll be going up against the Anointed Lord herself.”

“Which is what makes the city the perfect target,” de Sousse said. “We need to make meticulous plans, of course, but if we can move our armies together and with speed, we can be at that city and in its streets before any response can be made. The main bulk of the Vos army is kept at Vosburg. The fact that the Final Faith is responsible for the defence of Scholten will be its downfall. And the Anointed Lord will be almost as grand a prize as the city itself.”

“At which point, Vos mobilises, surrounds Scholten and crushes us,” said de Biot.

Again, de Sousse smiled. “That is the beauty of it. Think for a moment. Suppose you were a tired old noble in Andon or Volonne. One day, you hear that a bunch of young upstart nobles of no real political power or name in the south have risen up and snatched one of the greatest Vos cities, overnight. What would you do?”

It was Count Fournier’s turn to smile.

“I would order my squire to fetch my armour and summon as many fighting men as I could muster to cross the Anclas Territories and join them.” He shook his head, smiling. “Lord above, de Sousse, I had no idea you had the balls for something of this magnitude. If you can convince these other fine gentlemen – all of them, mind – you will have my knights and much more for this adventure.”

“Are you serious?” de Biot asked the count.

“If we can take Scholten, and take it quickly, then we will have every armed man in Pontaine at our beck and call in as much time as it takes them to get to the city,” de Sousse said. “With that momentum, we can crush the Vos grand army. One battle, that is all it will take.”

“That is a bloody great
if
,” said de Biot.

“True,” said Rousseau. “And I do have my doubts. But we can plan every detail over and over until we are happy, right, de Sousse?”

De Sousse shrugged. “There is no great pressing need on time. I would not want to waste any advantage we get from taking Turnitia, but that will last a while yet. Better to go in prepared, I always say.”

“Then, dependent on the actual planning,” said Rousseau slowly. “I am in too.”

De Biot looked at him as if he were mad.

“Durand, Fremont,” de Sousse addressed the two other barons. “These two fine gentlemen are with me. What will it take to get your support?”

Close political allies, the two barons looked at one another before Fremont spoke.

“I suppose, in all of this, you would be, what, the general of this combined force?”

“Given my hold on Turnitia, I believe I would be the logical choice,” de Sousse said.

“Well, that is fine, that is fine,” Fremont said. “And when every fighting man in Pontaine is under the banner, you will still be the overall commander?”

“I can foresee several older nobles wanting to displace me, but I would naturally look to my closest friends to assist me in retaining the position.”

“And there we have the central problem,” Fremont said.

“Which is?” de Sousse asked, trying very hard not to look as if he were baiting the baron.

“Let us suppose that, against all sane odds, this enterprise of yours works. There will be no more Vos or, at least, no more Vos Empire. The peninsula will be united. Under one rule. Yours? The Emperor de Sousse?”

“That is a lovely thought,” de Sousse said, chuckling to himself to lend some levity to the notion. “And it would be another logical choice – I would have initiated Pontaine’s path back to greatness. But I instead make you this promise. Who sits in the emperor’s throne, if we end up calling it that, will be decided on the field of battle. Whosoever distinguishes himself most in the war, who gathers the most honour and glory... he shall be emperor.”

“You’ll stand by that?” de Biot asked, clearly surprised.

De Sousse shrugged. “Just by attempting this, every one of us round this table will be guaranteed honour and glory for centuries to come – maybe forever! If we succeed, then we will have all the wealth we ever dreamed of. So what is left? Raw power? I have as much interest in that as all of you, but if it is someone else who sits on the throne, we will have their eternal gratitude. And that, as a power behind the throne, is almost as valuable, without making yourself such a visible target. Yes, de Biot, I am tickled by the notion of being emperor, but I do not burn for it. At least, not yet. Thus, I am happy to let a man’s sword determine his right to take the throne.”

Fremont grinned. “I’ll hold you to that, de Sousse. So long as it remains true, though, I am in.”

“I also,” growled Durand, looking eager to start hacking apart Vos knights that minute.

“And so it comes to you, de Biot,” de Sousse said. “What say you?”

De Biot looked at the others, conscious they all now waited for his answer.

“I will say now that this plan is madness, it’s foolish, it’s... ill-conceived.” He sighed, deeply. “But if you think I am going to let one of you become emperor of the entire peninsula without me having a fair shot at it, you have another think coming.”

“You are with us?” Count Fournier asked.

De Biot shook his head slightly, as if he could not believe his own words. He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it. Rubbing his forehead, he sighed again.

“I believe I am,” he finally said. “May the good God help us all.”

 

 

O
NE OF THE
Citadel’s countless servants had provided a seat for Tellmore as he waited outside the baron’s study. He had been patient to begin with, but had steadily grown concerned as first the minutes and then the hours passed. While he did not relish the news he was to deliver, Tellmore could not help but wonder what kept the baron’s attention over news from an expedition in the Anclas Territories to uncover the most powerful magical artefact of recent times.

Tellmore sighed. It was the nature of his position that warriors could rarely understand the import of matters magical.

The servant had offered to prepare new clothing for Tellmore, but he had declined. His cloak was ruined, while his tunic was dirty and ripped in several places. He had thought that his appearance might draw some sympathy from the baron, an acknowledgement that, despite his failure to retrieve the Guardian Starlight, best efforts had been made.

Now he was starting to regret that decision and even doubting its efficacy. The thought of a long soak in a rose-scented bath, followed by a good meal and clean clothing, had taken seed and was starting to bear fruit.

The baron was certainly giving him plenty of time for such welcome luxuries.

“My dear Tellmore, my deepest apologies for having you kept waiting,” the baron said as he appeared at the end of the corridor. He was positively beaming, which made Tellmore suspect the man had been enjoying the attentions of one of his many women; but the baron had always let such worldly matters fall to the side when Tellmore had something important to discuss.

As the baron approached, his smile slipped a little as Tellmore stood.

“Tellmore, you look an absolute wreck,” he said, as he withdrew a key from his belt pouch and unlocked the study door. “Oh, dear, something tells me you have not got the best news for me. Well, don’t stand on ceremony, come on in and tell me all about it.”

Following the baron in, Tellmore watched as he flopped down into his chair with a satisfied sigh, before pulling off his boots and settling down comfortably.

“My Lord,” Tellmore began, then hesitated.

“Sit, sit, sit, man,” the baron said, waving his hand in irritation at Tellmore. “And out with it. You tell me your news, then I’ll tell you mine.”

Tellmore frowned as he did as he was instructed. He had feared his failure would have serious repercussions, possibly being dismissed from the baron’s service and a return to the Three Towers. Such a prospect was not wholly bad in Tellmore’s eyes, as he would be able to return to pure academic study. He had to admit though, he would miss the baron’s patronage. He had a great deal of autonomy here and the pay was very good.

“The expedition is lost, my Baron,” Tellmore said. “I was not able to retrieve the Guardian Starlight.”

“Ah, well,” said de Sousse. “Your information was bad?”

“No, not at all, I am very sure we found the right site. Everything matched – geography, topography, the few ruins we were able to unearth.”

“What then?”

Tellmore took a deep breath before continuing. “We were attacked. Looked like a Vos force.”

The baron raised his brow at that.

“We lost everyone. I was knocked out during the fighting, and would still be there now, captured or dead, if it were not for Sir Renauld.”

“Renauld got out alive too?”

“He did, my Baron.”

“Oh, well thank the heavens for that at least,” said the baron, and his relief seemed genuine. “I would not have liked to explain to his father just how I got him killed. Add to that, he
is
a good knight. Young, but with potential enough, and I’ll have need for him in the near future.”

“Pardon, my Baron,” Tellmore said. “You do not seem overly concerned about this turn of events.”

“Well, you know me, my dear Tellmore,” the baron said, rather grandly. “I don’t like leaving important matters to chance. I dispatched some additional help for you some time ago.”

“Additional help?”

“Our grateful friend, Lucius.”

“You did not trust me, my Baron?”

“Oh, Tellmore, don’t be so jealous. When it comes to all things arcane, there is none in this world I would listen to more than you. However, delving in ancient ruins? You never know what you might find. I thought a thief would serve you well for anything... beyond your normal experiences.”

Tellmore thought for a moment. “What about the other Shadowmage, Adrianna?”

De Sousse chuckled. “Well, I summoned her, but she did not appear. So, I gave the job to Lucius. However, I now hear from my men in the city that our facially challenged Adrianna ... disappeared. Right about the same time Lucius left to join you.”

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