useless legend.”
“I felt myself in need of an impartial advisor,” Isaiah said, moving to a table where
several maps and sheaves of documents were spread out. “One who could step into any of your
shoes”—his eyes slipped over the five generals—“should I be so unfortunate as to lose any one
of you. You are all, naturally, aware of Axis” stunning prowess as a military commander.”
Stars, thought Axis, now I shall have to look out for the knife in my back, as well!
He happened to catch Ezekiel”s glance, and was surprised to see amusement dancing
there. Axis instantly revised his earlier estimation of him, thinking that the man might prove a
worthwhile ally one day.
Ezekiel was true to Isaiah and would support no rebellion against the tyrant.
“To matters at hand,” Isaiah said, waving the generals forward to the table. “We need to
discuss our preparations for invasion. Reports?”
For the next half an hour each general gave a terse summary of the current state of
readiness. At this point, approximately a year away from actual invasion, the emphasis was on
gathering new recruits, training, and stockpiling equipment and supplies.
Axis was stunned by the size of the army that Isaiah was gathering—it would be at least
half a million men, and probably much, much larger.
“I would also like to raise the subject of resettlement at this time,” Isaiah said.
“Resettlement?” Axis said, then apologized for his interruption.
“Whenever a tyrant gathers to himself a new dependency,” Ezekiel said, “he ensures its
„loyalty” by moving into its territories large numbers of Isembaardians to settle the new lands.”
He looked at Isaiah. “But this is not normally something we plan until our victory is assured.”
“Consider my victory assured,” Isaiah snapped, “and consider it time to begin the
planning for resettlement now.” He pulled a map toward him, then tapped the upper corner of it.
“The northwest of the Tyranny—the FarReach and En-Dor Dependencies—are poor and their
peoples struggling,” he said. “They shall be happy to remove themselves to the gentler and more
fertile pastures of the Outlands or the Central Kingdoms above the FarReach Mountains.”
The five generals just stared at him.
“But—” Morfah began.
“You will be responsible for their organization, Morfah,” said Isaiah, “together with
Ezekiel. Unless you both feel yourselves incapable.”
No one said anything, but again there were hurried glances among the generals.
“Or unless you wish me to bring someone else back from death to deal with it for you,”
Isaiah said.
“Your order,” said Ezekiel in a smooth, calm voice, “is as always my command. Let us
not disturb the dead any more than we need to. Morfah and I will see to it, Excellency. At what
point after the invasion do you wish the peoples of En-Dor and the FarReach dependencies to
begin the long trek north into—”
“They shall move with the invasion,” Isaiah said. “Thus they shall need to be informed
now that new lands await them and they need to begin making preparations for their journey
north.”
“With the invasion?” Lamiah said, adding almost as an afterthought, “Excellency?”
“The Outlands and Central Kingdoms are very far away from the main bulk of the
Tyranny,” said Isaiah. “They need to be settled as rapidly as possible. The peoples of the En-Dor
and FarReach Dependencies shall follow directly behind the main military convoy.”
“They are not going to be happy to be ordered from their homelands,” Morfah muttered.
“Then your silver tongue shall be needed to persuade them,” Isaiah said. “And persuade
them you will, Morfah…Ezekiel.”
They both gave small, stiff bows of acquiescence.
“Together with the army and the settlers,” Axis said once the five generals had left, “how
many people will there be in the convoy, Isaiah?”
“A million, maybe a little more.”
Axis could say nothing for a moment. A million people? “The logistics…” he said.
“Are a nightmare,” said Isaiah. “No wonder I needed you back from death to advise and
aid me, eh? I cannot be everywhere at once.”
Axis just shook his head. A million people. He couldn”t escape the feeling that Isaiah was
heading directly for his second military fiasco.
Stars alone knew what the generals were thinking.
CHAPTER TWELVE
West of Pelemere, Central Kingdoms
They had been on the road for weeks, and Maximilian was enjoying the freedom. He
appreciated the chance to catch up with old friends. He knew all the kings of the Central
Kingdoms, some better than others. Malat, who ruled over Kyros, was a good friend, and his son,
Borchard, an even better one. Maximilian had enjoyed his four-day stay in Kyros immensely,
although the good-natured prenuptial ribbing of Borchard was something he was thankful to
escape.
He worried a little about leaving Escator, but that worry was mainly engendered by guilt
at enjoying his freedom so greatly. The Privy Council were capable enough of managing the
kingdom”s daily affairs, and all would manage nicely without him.
Some of Maximilian”s enjoyment began to pall as they drew closer to Pelemere. Ishbel
was near, an equal distance to the east of Pelemere, according to the report of a passing Icarii, as
he was to the west, and now all of Maximilian”s attention was focused on their meeting.
What would she truly be like, this serpent bride? What was her purpose: to become his
wife and bear his children, or to deliver a darker message into his life?
Together with his increasing anxiety about Ishbel, Maximilian was also growing a little
irritable with the constant company. Garth and Egalion were his close friends, and he knew the
men of the Emerald Guard intimately. While he enjoyed their company, Maximilian was so
solitary by nature, a trait exacerbated by his seventeen-year imprisonment, that he found the
constant company trying. He found himself dreaming about pushing his horse into a gallop
across a vast plain, seeing nothing but the gently rolling grasslands ahead of him, enjoying no
company save that of his horse, having to respond to nothing more than the sun on his face and
the wind in his hair.
And soon he would have a wife.
Six days out of Pelemere, Maximilian”s rising anxiety and irritation combined to push
him to a sudden decision.
“Egalion,” he said, as they dismounted for the evening, “I am going to take a few stores,
and a bedding roll, and ride off by myself for a few days.”
“Maximilian—”
“I need to get away, Egalion. Just by myself. Just for a few days. You know how…”
Maximilian”s voice drifted away, and Egalion nodded. Yes, he knew “how.” Maximilian
had spent seventeen years chained to a gang of men, and Egalion knew that sometimes it seemed
to Maximilian as if those chains had never vanished.
“You need to keep safe,” Egalion said.
“I don”t need a guard.” Maximilian”s voice was sharp.
“I won”t send men to shadow you, Maximilian. But keep safe.”
Maximilian tried a small smile, which didn”t quite manage to warm into life. “What part
of the world can be more boring, more safe, than the western plains of Pelemere, my friend?”
Garth had wandered over and had heard enough of the conversation to know what was
happening. “Maxel?”
“The hanging wall,” Maximilian said, referring to the ceiling of rock that had hung over
him for so much of his life, “is bearing down on me, just a little too much. Let me go, Garth.”
Garth and Egalion exchanged a glance, then Garth nodded. “Keep safe, Maxel.”
“I will rejoin you a day outside of Pelemere.”
Maximilian stepped back, his eyes holding those of Egalion and Garth for just a moment;
then he vanished into the gloom of dusk.
Maximilian pushed his horse for five hours into the night, angling a little northeast of the
route Egalion, Garth, and the Emerald Guard would take, until the animal was almost dropping
from weariness. He halted in the shelter of a small grove, made his horse comfortable, then
gathered enough dry wood for a fire.
Maximilian felt exhausted himself, but he knew he would not sleep.
There was something he wanted to do.
He just didn”t know what Ishbel represented. Contentment, or the ruination of peace?
Maximilian wasn”t even sure that meeting her would solve the puzzle: Ishbel was likely to be an
enigma not easily explained within the first five minutes of acquaintance.
Once the fire was blazing, Maximilian set out some food…then ignored it.
He would eat once he was finished.
Pushing the food to one side, he slid the Persimius ring from his left hand, then took the
queen”s ring from his cloak pocket. Holding them loosely in his hand for a moment, Maximilian
took a deep breath, then set them down, slightly apart from each other, before the fire. The
Whispering Rings could do more than just set his day on edge with their irritating chat.
Trying not to think too much about what he was about to do, Maximilian took a long