Varia’s gaze switched to Lord Murdoth. He’d reddened angrily, his aura darkening and thickening. As if the Kormehri had somehow wronged Quaie by hating him for his barbarities.
The number of imperial casualties were given, but those of the March militia cohorts were only estimated, their troops having scattered badly.
Docheri then gave an oral report, and when he’d finished, the emperor asked the first question: “How,” he wondered, “did we so drastically underestimate the southern alliance?”
In a sense the question was rhetorical. The evaluations had been made in that room, by himself and this council. But Docheri answered. “Your Majesty, we had no idea that the allies would work so well together. Or coordinate at all; there was no precedent for it. Actually the alliance seemed somewhat of a joke, though neither Colonel Morghild nor Colonel Cearnigh treated it as one. But obviously its commander is an unexpectedly skilled leader and military planner.”
Murdoth snorted, his glance touching Varia on its way to the emperor. “The Sisterhood’s to blame,” he said. “They’ve married sorceresses to every ruler south of the river.” He paused, glaring again at Varia as if adding mentally and one north of it. Then went on, “And controls them like marionettes; I have no doubt that if the light were right, you could see the strings.”
The speaker of the majority Empire Party, spoke next. “If it weren’t for our ill-advised expedition to Kormehr, and the outrages at Ferny Cove, none of this would have . . .”
Murdoth interrupted angrily. “That vile Dynast has lived for more than two centuries, and has dreamed of our destruction the whole time. She—”
The emperor’s light gavel struck the bell in front of him, its brittle clang cutting Murdoth off sharply. “Lord Murdoth, we have rules of courtesy here. Do not interrupt again.” His gaze went to Varia. “Lady Cyncaidh, do you have any comments on the role of the Sisterhood in this?”
“Speculative comments, Your Majesty. The Dynast has always been strongly prejudiced against Your Empire, and taught us to fear and loathe it. But the Rape at Ferny Cove seems clearly to have changed her approach. Previously she’d had a treaty only with the Kormehri, and that only for the use of an area of land, and the protection of the Sisterhood within its boundaries. While giving the Kormehri unique rights in marketing the Sisterhood’s products.”
“May we suppose that the military commander is one of her people? Perhaps the commander of her guard forces?”
“It seems quite possible, Your Majesty.”
At this, Captain Docheri raised his hand.
“Yes, Captain?”
“We know a bit about the commander’s identity, Your Majesty. His name is Makurdi. He’s said to be an Ozman, who somehow came to Tekalos and led a rebellion that overthrew the king there.”
Macurdy! At the name, Cyncaidh’s glance went to Varia, just for a moment. Her bright green gaze had snapped to the captain like a compass needle to a lump of magnetite.
“An Ozman,” the emperor said thoughtfully. “The Ozmen have a considerable military reputation.”
He turned the discussion to how they might respond to the invasion. After consulting briefly during a break, the Empire Party, with its plurality in both the Council and the biennial Great Parliament, kept as close as it could to its isolationist tradition. Its position was that the militias and garrisons should carry the burden of defense, the March taking the major responsibility. The Throne Army should not be involved; the invaders couldn’t possibly fight their way to the border of the empire. However, to reassure the Marches, a senior crown officer, perhaps Lord Cyncaidh, should coordinate the defense.
The A’conal Party—in these days the center party—went a long step further. Lord Finntagh was its official spokesman in the Council, to support the fiction of the Emperor’s neutrality. Finntagh recommended that the 1st Imperial Legion be sent south to the Elmintoss military reservation, ready to enter the Inner Marches if the invaders reached them.
Predictably, Murdoth proposed that the ducal armies be imperialized, and march south with the Throne Army, to crush the invaders utterly so they could never come back.
When he’d sat down, Cyncaidh stood. “Who,” he asked, “do you propose should lead that army?”