Garranon shook his head. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I doubt you'd get more than a tenth of the Oranstonian lords who would be willing to send armies to fight in Tallven. It leaves us too vulnerable to attack from the Vorsag on our southern border."
Revenell shifted forward on his seat and said, "If we split our forces and left half the army to defend our homes …"
Beckram shook his head. "Jakoven's men already outnumber us. If we spread out our troops like that, he'll cut a swath right through the Oranstonian armies while the Shavig are busy fighting the Avinhelle armies—which will be defending their homes, not just obeying orders to fight. Then when Oranstone is cowed, he'll come back and support Avinhelle, and they'll sweep back over Shavig before spring. The Avinhelle have their mountain folk who know how to wage war in winter as well as we." Duraugh nodded. "He's right."
"Tallven is all grasslands," said Farrawell. He was strangely hairless except for the salt-and-ginger moustache that covered his upper lip. "There are only two or three cities of any size. The keeps can't protect the land, just the people. Easy to run over that with an army. That's why the Tallvenish worked so hard to take over the other four kingdoms, so they'd have barriers to protect their grain fields."
"But we're not fighting a war to break away from Tallven, gentlemen," said Danerra, who would have looked more at home in a library than in a meeting of war—during the Rebellion his men called him the Badger. He said mildly, "We're trying to replace Jakoven with Kellen, not destroy the main food supply for the Kingdoms."
"I wasn't talking about burning the fields," said Farrawell. "That would be stupid—at least until spring."
"It would be just as stupid in the spring," said Levenstar hotly. "Kellen will want to feed his people after we're through."
The meeting began to dissolve into chaos, with stools shoved aside as men bellowed while Alizon and my uncle tried to bring it to order. Only Garranon seemed immune. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back to rest against the stone wall.
I moved around the fight (which so far was only vocal) until the wall I propped myself up on was next to Garranon. "Where's Kellen?" I asked.
"He gave up and told them to let him know when they had a plan."
"What did he want to do?
Garranon shook his head. "He wanted to wait and meet with all the Oranstonian lords like we just did with your people. But Oranstone doesn't have anything equivalent to your Council, and hasn't had since the Rebellion. Alizon has a good idea who is against Jakoven, but the problem is most of them won't be interested in replacing Jakoven with Kellen: To them, one Tallven is as bad as the other." He paused as someone hit Farrawell—I couldn't be sure who because I'd been looking at Garranon.
Garranon raised his voice and said pointedly, "Some of them don't know whom to fight." But none of the combatants paid him any attention.
"Does Haverness still have enough power to get the most important people together at Callis?" I asked, keeping a weather eye on the escalating battle.
Garranon shook his head. "Sure he has the power—but he's the leader of the faction that doesn't support war against Jakoven."
"Are you sure?" I asked. "Where's Tisala?"
Garranon raised his eyebrows in surprise and shook his head. "I don't know. What does Tisala have to do with this?"
The door to the room opened and Kellen stood in the doorway and watched as Beckram and Kirkovenal dragged Farrawell off of Danerra.
"Well," Kellen observed in icy tones. "When we get tired of fighting my brother, we can just kill each other instead."
A sheepish quiet fell on the room, and my uncle helped Danerra to his feet while Beckram and Kirkovenal released Farrawell gingerly. Only after everyone had taken their seats again did Kellen step all the way into the room with Rosem and Tisala flanking him.
"This is what we are going to do," said Kellen. "Tisala's father, Haverness, will call a meeting of the Oranstonians. She thinks he can get most of them to his keep at Callis without alerting Jakoven since the Oranstonian lords have grown good at keeping my brother's spies from following them. Haverness, Tisala tells me, keeps pigeons. She thinks he can have them together in two weeks."
"She exaggerates her father's importance," said Farrawell. "Why would we listen to a woman?"
"I have no idea," I said. I don't know what they heard in my voice, but there was a general shift away from me in the room. "Maybe it's because she knows what she's talking about—unlike most of what I've heard this afternoon." I looked at Farrawell. "And she's competent. For instance, if she'd hit Danerra, he would have stayed down until he woke up. But she wouldn't have hit him unless it served some purpose other than self-aggrandizement, gentlemen."
Farrawell's hand went to his hip where his sword would usually be.
Kellen leaned toward me. "Enough."
I bowed "As you ask, sire." As I straightened, I caught Tisala rolling her eyes at me.
He turned to the room. "Tisala tells me that Haverness has been avoiding the more radical lords—such as yourselves—but I believe that Alizon and Tisala can persuade Haverness to cooperate."
Alizon nodded, a slight smile on his face. "I believe the Old Fox will be willing to help negotiations."
"Thank you," said Kellen.
"You won't get a majority support, sire," said Kirkovenal, his face sober. "Most of Oranstone would as soon that the royal house of Tallven disappeared off the face of the earth. They don't want a different Tallvenish king."
"I think I can change some of that," said Kellen. "I understand what they want—thanks to my uncle." He nodded at Alizon. "I can convince some of them that they'll be better off following me—and every man in this room knows that even a thousand more men might make the difference between winning and losing. I'm going to bring the Hurogmeten" — he gestured at me—"and that will help as well."
Farrawell's mouth dropped open. "He's the Hurogmeten? He's too young to be the Shavig Giant."
I bowed to the room in general. "You were busy when I came in—allow me to introduce myself. I am Wardwick of Hurog."
Danerra gave me a thoughtful look I saw echoed in several other faces. "That just might work," he said. "I wouldn't have thought so until I met him—but the Shavig Giant's a hero in Oranstone."
Garranon watched my face and grinned suddenly. "We Oranstonians are a musical people," he explained to me. "There are twenty or thirty popular songs about Haverness's Hundred—most of them praise the Shavig Giant who brought a mountain down on the Vorsag. And as Danerra has just pointed out, you might as well have hero written across your forehead."
I could feel my face flush with embarrassment.
Kellen smiled tightly. "He's charismatic," he said. There was something in his gaze that made me wary.
"But where should we attack first?" asked Farrawell.
"We don't," Kellen said. "If Jakoven attacks first, it will scare some of the Oranstonian lords. They know that Jakoven has just been waiting for an excuse to destroy what power the Oranstonian aristocracy still holds. He has a slew of landless Tallvenish noble lordlings who would give him utter loyalty in return for Oranstonian keeps.
"We wait," said Kellen, "and then we destroy him."