Chasing the Prophecy
Page 64
“Go on,” Galloran encouraged.
“The protective lake prevents soldiers from sallying forth out of Felrook and taking the offensive. To compensate, Maldor erected three keeps on high ground around the lake. The three strongholds fortify one another and allow counterattacks in the case of a siege. Taking any of them would be an enormous challenge.”
“And the ferry is protected by a wall,” Galloran said. “It could function as a fortress as well.”
Ferrin nodded grimly. “Maldor could very well trap us between a castle we cannot take and an overwhelming host we cannot fight. The valley is large. He could hide massive reserve forces. He could design any number of ambushes. In short, if I were commander, I would not lead us into that valley.”
“Nor would I,” Galloran agreed. “Not using my own reason. We do not have nearly the manpower to attack the emperor directly. We are apparently marching into a trap that should kill us all. My faith is in the oracle, and in the quest Lord Jason seeks to accomplish. There is a piece missing to this puzzle. When Jason finds it, we must be in position to take advantage.”
Ferrin exhaled slowly. “Such faith.”
Rachel worried that it might be too much faith. Should she speak up? It wasn’t like she had any real experience with battle strategy.
“Do not forget that faith in what the oracle saw is all we have left,” Galloran said. “On our own, no matter how well we fight or how cleverly we strategize, we simply lack the resources to win. Maldor is too strong. Our options are either to walk the path Esmira prescribed or to withdraw and mount a defensive stand that buys us perhaps ten years.”
“Maldor knows we’re coming,” Ferrin said quietly. “He knows what allies will join us. We know our battle strategy is unsound. We suspect he rejoices that we are marching into a trap. We are giving him the chance to eliminate his remaining opponents with a single stroke. What would have taken him years will be over in weeks. Yet it is the only chance to defeat him, so we are going forward.”
“What say you, Rachel?” Galloran muttered. “Are we fools?”
“Maybe,” Rachel said. “Our chances look really bad. The oracle warned us that we would probably lose. So we probably will. But if the prophecy is our only hope, I guess we have to try.” She looked at Ferrin. “The only way to know will be to see it through to the end.”
“I agree with Rachel,” Ferrin said. “We will probably perish. But I can think of worse ways to go.”
“A small chance beats no chance every time,” Tark said. “No matter how small.”
“We have some advantages,” Io said. “Maldor may understand what it means to fight the Amar Kabal, but his soldiers do not. Not really. Not even the eldest of the displacers. It has been too long since the seedfolk last marched to war. There are no finer warriors in Lyrian. No army can confront them casually. And we drinlings do not fall easily. We have built up our numbers larger than our foes could anticipate.”
“Even if we fail,” Galloran acknowledged, “we will make a respectable showing. Knowing there is any hope for success, I would not meet my end another way. Many of those I lead may not properly comprehend how dire the upcoming battle will be. Some of those particulars cannot be confided to the common soldier. Leading these men to probable disaster is my burden, but I am willing to bear it.”
“They know it will be grim,” Ferrin said. “Some of their expectations may be unrealistic, but you lead brave men. Cowards would not have come. The simplest among them know that we will be at a great disadvantage.”
“I am glad to know the four of you stand with me,” Galloran said. “We know by prophecy that only if we stand united can we triumph. Ferrin, the nearer we draw to Felrook, the more I will have to rely on your expertise.”
“I am here to serve as needed,” Ferrin pledged.
“We have confronted some grave realities tonight,” Galloran said. “We must not close our eyes to the hardships ahead, nor should we defeat ourselves by deciding the cause will be lost. We will defy the odds. The path to victory exists. We will find it. That is all.”
Ferrin and Tark returned with Rachel to her tent. Once inside, they sat down together. Rachel felt mildly stunned by the meeting. She had never had such a thorough explanation of why they would probably lose. What information could Jason possibly find to reverse such a doomed situation?
“I appreciated the conversation with Galloran,” Ferrin said.
“It’s good of him to keep us informed,” Tark said. “We have no real claim on that information.”
“Not just for including us in his plans,” Ferrin clarified. “I had already worked out most of what we discussed through my own observations. I was relieved for the confirmation that we are not following a deluded man. Galloran is attacking Felrook with his eyes open, so to speak. He understands the peril. He realizes that our offensive defies common sense. He leads us there for the only acceptable reason—to fulfill the prophecy.”
Rachel frowned. Their strategy made no sense to Galloran or Ferrin. Jason’s quest didn’t make much sense either. They were all ignoring their common sense because of the prophecy. Was that right?
“What if the oracle fooled us?” Rachel asked numbly. “I used to worry about the oracle being mistaken, but what if it was deliberate? What if she was working for Maldor? What if he corrupted her somehow? What if we’re chasing a false hope? What if this is all just a big scheme to trick us into making the dumbest military choices imaginable?”
The tent became silent.
“You heard how vulnerable we’ll be when we attack Felrook,” Rachel said. “Safe in his castle, Maldor just has to sit back and watch his armies destroy us. What could Jason possibly learn that would change any of that? What secret can erase fortresses and armies? What secret could possibly give us an advantage?”
“If we knew,” Tark said, “Lord Jason’s quest would be unnecessary.”
“Is it necessary?” Rachel asked. “Or is it like the hunt for the Word? The magic word that could kill Maldor, protected by trusted guardians for years. The magic word that didn’t work and was just part of a plot to mess up his enemies! What if this is no different?”
Head down, Tark shifted uncomfortably. He would not make eye contact with her.
“The oracle of Mianamon held that office for a long time,” Ferrin said. “She had no reason to love Maldor. Quite the opposite. I have heard no rumors of Maldor holding any sway at Mianamon. Why would the oracle give her life to mislead us?”
“The protective lake prevents soldiers from sallying forth out of Felrook and taking the offensive. To compensate, Maldor erected three keeps on high ground around the lake. The three strongholds fortify one another and allow counterattacks in the case of a siege. Taking any of them would be an enormous challenge.”
“And the ferry is protected by a wall,” Galloran said. “It could function as a fortress as well.”
Ferrin nodded grimly. “Maldor could very well trap us between a castle we cannot take and an overwhelming host we cannot fight. The valley is large. He could hide massive reserve forces. He could design any number of ambushes. In short, if I were commander, I would not lead us into that valley.”
“Nor would I,” Galloran agreed. “Not using my own reason. We do not have nearly the manpower to attack the emperor directly. We are apparently marching into a trap that should kill us all. My faith is in the oracle, and in the quest Lord Jason seeks to accomplish. There is a piece missing to this puzzle. When Jason finds it, we must be in position to take advantage.”
Ferrin exhaled slowly. “Such faith.”
Rachel worried that it might be too much faith. Should she speak up? It wasn’t like she had any real experience with battle strategy.
“Do not forget that faith in what the oracle saw is all we have left,” Galloran said. “On our own, no matter how well we fight or how cleverly we strategize, we simply lack the resources to win. Maldor is too strong. Our options are either to walk the path Esmira prescribed or to withdraw and mount a defensive stand that buys us perhaps ten years.”
“Maldor knows we’re coming,” Ferrin said quietly. “He knows what allies will join us. We know our battle strategy is unsound. We suspect he rejoices that we are marching into a trap. We are giving him the chance to eliminate his remaining opponents with a single stroke. What would have taken him years will be over in weeks. Yet it is the only chance to defeat him, so we are going forward.”
“What say you, Rachel?” Galloran muttered. “Are we fools?”
“Maybe,” Rachel said. “Our chances look really bad. The oracle warned us that we would probably lose. So we probably will. But if the prophecy is our only hope, I guess we have to try.” She looked at Ferrin. “The only way to know will be to see it through to the end.”
“I agree with Rachel,” Ferrin said. “We will probably perish. But I can think of worse ways to go.”
“A small chance beats no chance every time,” Tark said. “No matter how small.”
“We have some advantages,” Io said. “Maldor may understand what it means to fight the Amar Kabal, but his soldiers do not. Not really. Not even the eldest of the displacers. It has been too long since the seedfolk last marched to war. There are no finer warriors in Lyrian. No army can confront them casually. And we drinlings do not fall easily. We have built up our numbers larger than our foes could anticipate.”
“Even if we fail,” Galloran acknowledged, “we will make a respectable showing. Knowing there is any hope for success, I would not meet my end another way. Many of those I lead may not properly comprehend how dire the upcoming battle will be. Some of those particulars cannot be confided to the common soldier. Leading these men to probable disaster is my burden, but I am willing to bear it.”
“They know it will be grim,” Ferrin said. “Some of their expectations may be unrealistic, but you lead brave men. Cowards would not have come. The simplest among them know that we will be at a great disadvantage.”
“I am glad to know the four of you stand with me,” Galloran said. “We know by prophecy that only if we stand united can we triumph. Ferrin, the nearer we draw to Felrook, the more I will have to rely on your expertise.”
“I am here to serve as needed,” Ferrin pledged.
“We have confronted some grave realities tonight,” Galloran said. “We must not close our eyes to the hardships ahead, nor should we defeat ourselves by deciding the cause will be lost. We will defy the odds. The path to victory exists. We will find it. That is all.”
Ferrin and Tark returned with Rachel to her tent. Once inside, they sat down together. Rachel felt mildly stunned by the meeting. She had never had such a thorough explanation of why they would probably lose. What information could Jason possibly find to reverse such a doomed situation?
“I appreciated the conversation with Galloran,” Ferrin said.
“It’s good of him to keep us informed,” Tark said. “We have no real claim on that information.”
“Not just for including us in his plans,” Ferrin clarified. “I had already worked out most of what we discussed through my own observations. I was relieved for the confirmation that we are not following a deluded man. Galloran is attacking Felrook with his eyes open, so to speak. He understands the peril. He realizes that our offensive defies common sense. He leads us there for the only acceptable reason—to fulfill the prophecy.”
Rachel frowned. Their strategy made no sense to Galloran or Ferrin. Jason’s quest didn’t make much sense either. They were all ignoring their common sense because of the prophecy. Was that right?
“What if the oracle fooled us?” Rachel asked numbly. “I used to worry about the oracle being mistaken, but what if it was deliberate? What if she was working for Maldor? What if he corrupted her somehow? What if we’re chasing a false hope? What if this is all just a big scheme to trick us into making the dumbest military choices imaginable?”
The tent became silent.
“You heard how vulnerable we’ll be when we attack Felrook,” Rachel said. “Safe in his castle, Maldor just has to sit back and watch his armies destroy us. What could Jason possibly learn that would change any of that? What secret can erase fortresses and armies? What secret could possibly give us an advantage?”
“If we knew,” Tark said, “Lord Jason’s quest would be unnecessary.”
“Is it necessary?” Rachel asked. “Or is it like the hunt for the Word? The magic word that could kill Maldor, protected by trusted guardians for years. The magic word that didn’t work and was just part of a plot to mess up his enemies! What if this is no different?”
Head down, Tark shifted uncomfortably. He would not make eye contact with her.
“The oracle of Mianamon held that office for a long time,” Ferrin said. “She had no reason to love Maldor. Quite the opposite. I have heard no rumors of Maldor holding any sway at Mianamon. Why would the oracle give her life to mislead us?”
