Read Online Moontide 02 - The Scarlet Tides by David Hair - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: David Hair
Ads: Link
in what strength.’
‘What is your source?’ Piero Inveglio asked.
‘A good spymaster doesn’t reveal their source,’ responded Cera quickly, a glance at Elena hinting it was her.
Good girl, well deflected
. Gyle was the real source of that
false
intelligence.
‘They are expecting a fleet of windships to land a single legionwest of Hytel in the desert at the end of this month and march immediately to Hytel,’ Cera went on.
‘Why only one legion?’ Luca Conti wondered.
‘Windships have a small capacity. The Empire cannot divert more from the main invasion force going into Hebusalim,’ Cera replied smoothly, just as Gyle had coached her. ‘Only a third of a legion are expected in the first wave: less than two thousand men, and only half-a-dozen battle-magi at most. Those magi will be exhausted from the flight and their landing site has insufficient water.’
Seir Luca frowned. ‘It seems foolish of them. Are they so stupid? Why would they not fly all the way to Hytel and land where they are secure?’
Silence him
, Gyle urged silently.
‘The Dorobon never bothered to learn about this kingdom,’ Rutt-Elena interrupted in a snarky voice. ‘They think all they have to do is arrive.’ Sordell had never learnt to deal with debate civilly. Gyle winced again.
Can they sense that this is not Elena?
He thanked Kore that this was only a temporary situation. By month’s end, the Dorobon would be here and he’d be able to move openly and finally find Rutt a new body to inhabit.
Seir Luca scowled, glanced sideways at Piero Inveglio and closed his mouth. No one else spoke.
‘They will be vulnerable,’ Cera said, repeating what he’d told her to say. ‘Trapped in the desert, newly landed, their magi drained – we could field ten thousand Nesti, that’s five to one odds, and crush the invasion before it’s begun.’
‘What of the Gorgio?’ Seir Luca asked. ‘They have as many men as us.’
‘Trapped in Hytel by the northern Jhafi tribes,’ Piero Inveglio replied briskly.
Acmed visibly brightened at this mention of his people’s military prowess. ‘The northern tribes stand ready to aid you. Twenty thousand riders to ensure the victory,’ he growled.
It took time, but the men slowly began to nod. Gyle listened in silence as they first accepted the concept, and then moved on to thedetail: logistics, supplies, transport, which units to field and who to put in charge. By then the deal was done, with just one thing left to throw in …
‘I will accompany the army north,’ Cera told them in a firm voice.
‘No!’ protested the whole table.
‘A battlefield is no place for a woman!’ Seir Luca added. The rest exclaimed agreement. ‘You cannot, Princessa. Your place is here. We cannot afford to lose you if aught goes wrong.’
‘If I am to be seen as fit to fulfil the regency through this time of war, then I must be there. This is not a debating point, gentlemen,’ she said, slapping the table. ‘It is a decision.’ She glared about her, as if daring them to disagree. ‘Timori will be here, safe from danger.’ Gyle could sense the pang of guilt that accompanied those words: she knew Timori was anything but safe, and longed to say so. But she didn’t.
The men grumbled and mumbled, but she got her way.
Well done, girl. You’ve put your head into the trap, just as instructed.
The meeting wrapped up, the men dispersing with much low conversation and no little shaking of the head. He strained to listen, heard the way they made excuses for her: ‘She’s been unwell,’ ‘She’s just lost her sister,’ ‘That night must have been awful for her.’ They had learned to love her during the past year; they could forgive a little erratic behaviour.
Soon the room was empty except for Rutt–Elena. Gyle stared at ‘her’ as she turned slowly, her eyes penetrating his illusion and focusing on the spy-hole. ‘She’ pouted sullenly. ‘Well?’
Gyle inhaled, pulled a lever, shoved the
‘What is your source?’ Piero Inveglio asked.
‘A good spymaster doesn’t reveal their source,’ responded Cera quickly, a glance at Elena hinting it was her.
Good girl, well deflected
. Gyle was the real source of that
false
intelligence.
‘They are expecting a fleet of windships to land a single legionwest of Hytel in the desert at the end of this month and march immediately to Hytel,’ Cera went on.
‘Why only one legion?’ Luca Conti wondered.
‘Windships have a small capacity. The Empire cannot divert more from the main invasion force going into Hebusalim,’ Cera replied smoothly, just as Gyle had coached her. ‘Only a third of a legion are expected in the first wave: less than two thousand men, and only half-a-dozen battle-magi at most. Those magi will be exhausted from the flight and their landing site has insufficient water.’
Seir Luca frowned. ‘It seems foolish of them. Are they so stupid? Why would they not fly all the way to Hytel and land where they are secure?’
Silence him
, Gyle urged silently.
‘The Dorobon never bothered to learn about this kingdom,’ Rutt-Elena interrupted in a snarky voice. ‘They think all they have to do is arrive.’ Sordell had never learnt to deal with debate civilly. Gyle winced again.
Can they sense that this is not Elena?
He thanked Kore that this was only a temporary situation. By month’s end, the Dorobon would be here and he’d be able to move openly and finally find Rutt a new body to inhabit.
Seir Luca scowled, glanced sideways at Piero Inveglio and closed his mouth. No one else spoke.
‘They will be vulnerable,’ Cera said, repeating what he’d told her to say. ‘Trapped in the desert, newly landed, their magi drained – we could field ten thousand Nesti, that’s five to one odds, and crush the invasion before it’s begun.’
‘What of the Gorgio?’ Seir Luca asked. ‘They have as many men as us.’
‘Trapped in Hytel by the northern Jhafi tribes,’ Piero Inveglio replied briskly.
Acmed visibly brightened at this mention of his people’s military prowess. ‘The northern tribes stand ready to aid you. Twenty thousand riders to ensure the victory,’ he growled.
It took time, but the men slowly began to nod. Gyle listened in silence as they first accepted the concept, and then moved on to thedetail: logistics, supplies, transport, which units to field and who to put in charge. By then the deal was done, with just one thing left to throw in …
‘I will accompany the army north,’ Cera told them in a firm voice.
‘No!’ protested the whole table.
‘A battlefield is no place for a woman!’ Seir Luca added. The rest exclaimed agreement. ‘You cannot, Princessa. Your place is here. We cannot afford to lose you if aught goes wrong.’
‘If I am to be seen as fit to fulfil the regency through this time of war, then I must be there. This is not a debating point, gentlemen,’ she said, slapping the table. ‘It is a decision.’ She glared about her, as if daring them to disagree. ‘Timori will be here, safe from danger.’ Gyle could sense the pang of guilt that accompanied those words: she knew Timori was anything but safe, and longed to say so. But she didn’t.
The men grumbled and mumbled, but she got her way.
Well done, girl. You’ve put your head into the trap, just as instructed.
The meeting wrapped up, the men dispersing with much low conversation and no little shaking of the head. He strained to listen, heard the way they made excuses for her: ‘She’s been unwell,’ ‘She’s just lost her sister,’ ‘That night must have been awful for her.’ They had learned to love her during the past year; they could forgive a little erratic behaviour.
Soon the room was empty except for Rutt–Elena. Gyle stared at ‘her’ as she turned slowly, her eyes penetrating his illusion and focusing on the spy-hole. ‘She’ pouted sullenly. ‘Well?’
Gyle inhaled, pulled a lever, shoved the
Similar Books
