Blackveil
Page 156
Estora sat back, horrified. “Birch—he’s attacking our boundary?”
“Dodgy bastard,” Harborough grumbled. When he realized what he’d said and to whom, he cleared his throat. “My apologies, Your Highness, for my coarse words. I’m used to speaking with the king.”
To another man, she thought. “Never mind that. You were saying?”
“Yes, Your Highness. The boundary folk who settled in the wilderness up there. They’re self-sufficient people, but certainly not prepared for military style raids like the ones Birch has been conducting. The reports are that the attacks and subsequent torture, rapes, and executions were methodical. Isn’t that correct, Rider?”
“Yes, sir,” Connly replied.
“Birch must be training his renegades for true battle, hardening them, by hitting weak targets first. He’d also know that despite the fact these settlers aren’t technically in Sacoridia, that his actions would infuriate the king. The evidence Lieutenant Connly here mentioned that Birch left behind was definitely meant to provoke. Birch is thumbing his nose at us.”
Estora licked her lips, fought her own fear at the realization that she was responsible for deciding how the realm would respond, that she was responsible for the lives of the boundary folk and the soldiers who would eventually engage with Birch.
She knew the general probably wanted to delve immediately into discussion of what the response should be, but first she asked Connly, “What of those people, the settlers not yet attacked?”
“Word has gotten around,” he replied, “and most are seeking refuge this side of the border as they did during the groundmite raids.”
Estora remembered. Some provinces, like Adolind, had been welcoming to the refugees, while others, like D’Ivary, had not. D’Ivary had, in fact, abused the refugees. As a result, D’Ivary had, by the king’s decree and agreement among the other lord-governors, a new lord-governor.
She turned to Colin. “Ensure there are no problems with the lord-governors accepting refugees into their provinces. The king, as well as I, would wish for their safety. If problems arise, remind them of D’Ivary.”
Colin bowed. “Yes, my lady.”
“Rider, have you any more to report?”
“No, Your Highness.”
“Then you may be excused with my thanks.”
He bowed and hastily departed, with a quick glance at the doors that led to Zachary’s bedchamber. He must be desperate to know about his king’s condition, and what was going to happen to his captain. If things were different, Captain Mapstone would be here advising Estora. And if the captain were not able to be here, Estora would have asked the lieutenant to stay. But things were what they were. Connly had been briefed on the captain’s suspension, and about his added responsibilities. To him it must appear a very threatening situation and she had no misapprehension about where his loyalties lay—with the king and his captain. He was unsure of her, not ready to trust, despite the past relationship she’d had with the Riders. Gradually she would try to bring him into her confidence, win his trust, but there were more pressing problems to attend to at the moment.
And she must act decisively.
“We need to hit back at Birch,” General Harborough said, “and hit hard. I can assemble a force to march north and—”
“What about the towers?” she asked.
“They are not an immediate threat.”
“How do you know?”
Harborough looked a little flustered, glancing at Colin for support. Colin remained neutral, did not speak. It was clear the general expected her to acquiesce to whatever he suggested. She was, after all, an untried woman with no warcraft behind her.
“We do not know,” the general finally admitted. “But you heard the Rider. That Sleeper could have been in the tower for years, and there may be no others. No others that will awaken, or do whatever it is they do. Let Lord D’Yer handle it. Birch is actually attacking us. He’s the bigger threat.”
“If I may interject,” Colin said, “Lord D’Yer has rotated his troops at the wall now for three years with only minimal support from the royal army. They are stretched thin. It seems to me more of our regulars could be assigned duty at the wall. It is a border that has been long neglected, and you see what neglect has wrought at the breach.”
Lines of barely contained anger furrowed across Harborough’s broad forehead. “The D’Yers were supposed to be responsible for that wall. I don’t like the idea of splitting our forces on two fronts like that. We take out Birch and his renegades, then we can worry about the wall.”
Colin and Harborough went back and forth, each emphasizing his point. Estora wished ever more fervently Zachary would wake up, recover. How was she to know what she should do? Zachary would know. Karigan would, too, she was sure. Karigan was the one who, after rescuing Estora from abductors, figured out how to further distract the brigands from hunting her and allow her to escape. It had been a dangerous plan, but clever. Karigan had made herself a decoy by dressing up as Estora and led the brigands away in a chase.
It gave Estora a thought.
“Gentlemen,” she said, interrupting what was fast escalating into an argument. The two looked at her as if they’d forgotten she was even there. “Birch attacks with stealth, does he not?”
“Yes,” Harborough began, “but—”
“And our scouts and spies have had difficulty finding and tracking his movements.”
“Dodgy bastard,” Harborough grumbled. When he realized what he’d said and to whom, he cleared his throat. “My apologies, Your Highness, for my coarse words. I’m used to speaking with the king.”
To another man, she thought. “Never mind that. You were saying?”
“Yes, Your Highness. The boundary folk who settled in the wilderness up there. They’re self-sufficient people, but certainly not prepared for military style raids like the ones Birch has been conducting. The reports are that the attacks and subsequent torture, rapes, and executions were methodical. Isn’t that correct, Rider?”
“Yes, sir,” Connly replied.
“Birch must be training his renegades for true battle, hardening them, by hitting weak targets first. He’d also know that despite the fact these settlers aren’t technically in Sacoridia, that his actions would infuriate the king. The evidence Lieutenant Connly here mentioned that Birch left behind was definitely meant to provoke. Birch is thumbing his nose at us.”
Estora licked her lips, fought her own fear at the realization that she was responsible for deciding how the realm would respond, that she was responsible for the lives of the boundary folk and the soldiers who would eventually engage with Birch.
She knew the general probably wanted to delve immediately into discussion of what the response should be, but first she asked Connly, “What of those people, the settlers not yet attacked?”
“Word has gotten around,” he replied, “and most are seeking refuge this side of the border as they did during the groundmite raids.”
Estora remembered. Some provinces, like Adolind, had been welcoming to the refugees, while others, like D’Ivary, had not. D’Ivary had, in fact, abused the refugees. As a result, D’Ivary had, by the king’s decree and agreement among the other lord-governors, a new lord-governor.
She turned to Colin. “Ensure there are no problems with the lord-governors accepting refugees into their provinces. The king, as well as I, would wish for their safety. If problems arise, remind them of D’Ivary.”
Colin bowed. “Yes, my lady.”
“Rider, have you any more to report?”
“No, Your Highness.”
“Then you may be excused with my thanks.”
He bowed and hastily departed, with a quick glance at the doors that led to Zachary’s bedchamber. He must be desperate to know about his king’s condition, and what was going to happen to his captain. If things were different, Captain Mapstone would be here advising Estora. And if the captain were not able to be here, Estora would have asked the lieutenant to stay. But things were what they were. Connly had been briefed on the captain’s suspension, and about his added responsibilities. To him it must appear a very threatening situation and she had no misapprehension about where his loyalties lay—with the king and his captain. He was unsure of her, not ready to trust, despite the past relationship she’d had with the Riders. Gradually she would try to bring him into her confidence, win his trust, but there were more pressing problems to attend to at the moment.
And she must act decisively.
“We need to hit back at Birch,” General Harborough said, “and hit hard. I can assemble a force to march north and—”
“What about the towers?” she asked.
“They are not an immediate threat.”
“How do you know?”
Harborough looked a little flustered, glancing at Colin for support. Colin remained neutral, did not speak. It was clear the general expected her to acquiesce to whatever he suggested. She was, after all, an untried woman with no warcraft behind her.
“We do not know,” the general finally admitted. “But you heard the Rider. That Sleeper could have been in the tower for years, and there may be no others. No others that will awaken, or do whatever it is they do. Let Lord D’Yer handle it. Birch is actually attacking us. He’s the bigger threat.”
“If I may interject,” Colin said, “Lord D’Yer has rotated his troops at the wall now for three years with only minimal support from the royal army. They are stretched thin. It seems to me more of our regulars could be assigned duty at the wall. It is a border that has been long neglected, and you see what neglect has wrought at the breach.”
Lines of barely contained anger furrowed across Harborough’s broad forehead. “The D’Yers were supposed to be responsible for that wall. I don’t like the idea of splitting our forces on two fronts like that. We take out Birch and his renegades, then we can worry about the wall.”
Colin and Harborough went back and forth, each emphasizing his point. Estora wished ever more fervently Zachary would wake up, recover. How was she to know what she should do? Zachary would know. Karigan would, too, she was sure. Karigan was the one who, after rescuing Estora from abductors, figured out how to further distract the brigands from hunting her and allow her to escape. It had been a dangerous plan, but clever. Karigan had made herself a decoy by dressing up as Estora and led the brigands away in a chase.
It gave Estora a thought.
“Gentlemen,” she said, interrupting what was fast escalating into an argument. The two looked at her as if they’d forgotten she was even there. “Birch attacks with stealth, does he not?”
“Yes,” Harborough began, “but—”
“And our scouts and spies have had difficulty finding and tracking his movements.”
