“Your Majesty’s wishes are my command,” he said. “But Your Majesty must remember that our armies will need time to accomplish what I have outlined. Even moving with lightning speed, to do what I have described is the work of a full campaign season. After that, we will need rest and, above all, reinforcement. Also, there is the matter of the political consolidation of the conquered—”
“That need not detain the legions,” Valdaimon chimed in. “His Majesty has wisely delegated political responsibility to the League of the Black Wing. We will have the territories organized sufficiently to support your continued northward drive.”
Culdus scowled deeply and felt, the first pangs of fear clutch at his warrior’s heart. This damnable wizard would talk the king into a program that would lead to disaster!
“I appreciate that the army is not involved in political matters and am certain that the efforts of the League will be... successful,” Culdus stammered, almost choking on the last word. “But I beg Your Majesty to consider that time, supplies, and above all numbers are against an extended campaign this year. Once we attack the Elven Preserve, the terms of the Covenant will be invoked. Parona will enter the war long before we are ready to strike at her with lightning blows, and we cannot expect—”
“We cannot expect anything less than victory because of certain matters of which you are not aware,” the young king interrupted. A smile formed on the king’s thin lips as Culdus’s face began to grow white with apprehension. “Relax, Culdus,” he said, leaning forward and patting the old warrior on the forearm. “You have done well. But Valdaimon should now enlighten you concerning certain additional forces that will be at your disposal.”
“No!” the baron thundered, slamming his fist on the table so that the sound of both his shout and the blow echoed in the vastness of the great hall. “Your Majesty, with all respect, you know I am your loyal servant and will obey your commands, whatever they may be. But in conscience, I would not be doing my duty if I did not protest and beg you to reconsider this rash and dangerous course.”
The old man began pacing the length of the hall, turning and jabbing at the air to emphasize his points. “I have trained for you the mightiest army—not in numbers but in tactics, skill, and sheer cruelty—that this world has ever seen. You think I do not know of this wizard’s surprises, but I do. Yes. And I say there is no need to add the forces of dead, stinking things to those of the fine army I have provided you. What warrior would willingly march next to zombies, wights, and other obscene things of the night? I’d sooner die in battle, fighting honorably, than wrest victory from my foes by using the dead hands this villain would animate.”
“Then,” Valdaimon said, smiling his hideous smile that revealed his few remaining yellowed teeth, “you will no doubt be uncomfortable in command of such forces.”
“Aye, that I would,” Culdus stormed, falling into the trap. “I beg Your Majesty to—”
“I have already given this matter much thought, Culdus,” the young king said, rising to emphasize his point. “You will command our human forces. Valdaimon himself will support you with his... special forces. As for your fears about the elves and Parona—Valdaimon, you will address these points.”
The old wizard hoisted himself slowly from his seat.
“Your Majesty is well aware of the terms of the Covenant that ended the elf-human wars some three hundred years ago and that have been honored without notable breach since that time. The elves, reduced in numbers to a mere handful, nevertheless held it in their power to wreak magical destruction upon the human powers on such a scale that a settlement seemed advisable to all the human rulers. Under the terms of that Covenant, all human rulers of the time pledged that any attack upon the Elven Preserve,
“That need not detain the legions,” Valdaimon chimed in. “His Majesty has wisely delegated political responsibility to the League of the Black Wing. We will have the territories organized sufficiently to support your continued northward drive.”
Culdus scowled deeply and felt, the first pangs of fear clutch at his warrior’s heart. This damnable wizard would talk the king into a program that would lead to disaster!
“I appreciate that the army is not involved in political matters and am certain that the efforts of the League will be... successful,” Culdus stammered, almost choking on the last word. “But I beg Your Majesty to consider that time, supplies, and above all numbers are against an extended campaign this year. Once we attack the Elven Preserve, the terms of the Covenant will be invoked. Parona will enter the war long before we are ready to strike at her with lightning blows, and we cannot expect—”
“We cannot expect anything less than victory because of certain matters of which you are not aware,” the young king interrupted. A smile formed on the king’s thin lips as Culdus’s face began to grow white with apprehension. “Relax, Culdus,” he said, leaning forward and patting the old warrior on the forearm. “You have done well. But Valdaimon should now enlighten you concerning certain additional forces that will be at your disposal.”
“No!” the baron thundered, slamming his fist on the table so that the sound of both his shout and the blow echoed in the vastness of the great hall. “Your Majesty, with all respect, you know I am your loyal servant and will obey your commands, whatever they may be. But in conscience, I would not be doing my duty if I did not protest and beg you to reconsider this rash and dangerous course.”
The old man began pacing the length of the hall, turning and jabbing at the air to emphasize his points. “I have trained for you the mightiest army—not in numbers but in tactics, skill, and sheer cruelty—that this world has ever seen. You think I do not know of this wizard’s surprises, but I do. Yes. And I say there is no need to add the forces of dead, stinking things to those of the fine army I have provided you. What warrior would willingly march next to zombies, wights, and other obscene things of the night? I’d sooner die in battle, fighting honorably, than wrest victory from my foes by using the dead hands this villain would animate.”
“Then,” Valdaimon said, smiling his hideous smile that revealed his few remaining yellowed teeth, “you will no doubt be uncomfortable in command of such forces.”
“Aye, that I would,” Culdus stormed, falling into the trap. “I beg Your Majesty to—”
“I have already given this matter much thought, Culdus,” the young king said, rising to emphasize his point. “You will command our human forces. Valdaimon himself will support you with his... special forces. As for your fears about the elves and Parona—Valdaimon, you will address these points.”
The old wizard hoisted himself slowly from his seat.
“Your Majesty is well aware of the terms of the Covenant that ended the elf-human wars some three hundred years ago and that have been honored without notable breach since that time. The elves, reduced in numbers to a mere handful, nevertheless held it in their power to wreak magical destruction upon the human powers on such a scale that a settlement seemed advisable to all the human rulers. Under the terms of that Covenant, all human rulers of the time pledged that any attack upon the Elven Preserve,
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