Sweeping the papers up into his hands, Raidan went to see his brother the king.
The prince’s apartments lay at the opposite end of the main keep from those of the king’s. He had a fair distance to walk, but walking had never bothered him. Most of the castle’s inhabitants were still at their dinners; the few people Raidan encountered along the near silent corridors, servants all, bowed politely as he passed. His footfalls made little sound on the finely woven reed mats covering the stone floors.
His mind remained so preoccupied with the disturbing contents of the report crinkled in his hand that he arrived outside the king’s quarters with no conscious memory of the journey.
The two soldiers of the King’s Guard standing at either side of the painted double wooden doors snapped to attention. Ignoring them, Raidan pushed open the left door and strode through.
He crossed a large antechamber-dimly lit by a few small brass lamps-to stand before a smaller set of doors that opened into the inner sanctum of his brother’s private apartments.
A second pair of soldiers, also elite King’s Guard, stood watch over the finely carved wooden panels. They, too, came to attention at Raidan’s arrival, but this time, he did not continue forward.
Not even the Crown Prince could enter the king’s private quarters without permission.
“Tell the king I’m here,” Raidan commanded.
“Yes, your Highness,” the taller of the two guards responded. He disappeared through the portals while his partner assumed the traditional defensive stance-hand on sword hilt, spear extended over the doorway in a crosswise block.
Raidan understood their duty well; each member of the King’s Guard would defend the king with his or her life against all attackers, even should those attackers be members of the royal family.
He waited, as he knew he must, albeit impatiently.
The first guard returned. “The king will see you now, your Highness,” he announced. Then, in unison, he and his partner stepped to either side of the doors and inclined their spears away from the prince.
Raidan entered and made his way to his brother’s study. He found the king seated at his writing table, flipping through a stack of papers. The king looked up, head canted slightly to one side; for an instant, Raidan saw, not his brother sitting there, but their father.
Keizo Onjara, also known as Silverlock, King of Alasiri, pursed his lips in a frown. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You look as though your wife just threw you out.”
Raidan shook his head. “If only it was so simple,” he replied in a heavy voice. He sank onto a low couch opposite the king’s desk and brandished Remei’s report. “I’ve just received this from a traveling doctor down in Tono. It’s not good.” He offered the papers to Keizo. The king took them and began to read.
When he’d finished, the king laid the papers down beside the others stacked on the desktop and looked at his brother. “What do you advise?”
“At present, I have no advice, other than to warn Lady Odata, though I’m sure she is well aware of the situation.” Raidan ran a hand through his sable hair. “If this plague takes hold amongst the troops of her garrison, Tono will lie defenseless, leaving the way open for the Soldarans to sweep clear through to Sendai.”
“Which is why we must move the bulk of our armies into the Tono Valley as soon as possible,” Keizo said. He tapped the pile of reports before him with a well-manicured forefinger. “Intelligence has been coming in from as far south as Darguinia. Empress Constantia has begun a full-scale mobilization of her armies. It appears as if she intends to send at least two divisions north to retake Tono.”
“We both know her ambitions are more far-reaching than just retaking Tono,” Raidan replied. “The Soldaran homeland is bursting at the seams. The humans breed like field mice and they need more land. They look north to Alasiri and they see our fields and orchards, and all of the open land we have, and they covet it. The empress would happily slaughter us all in order to re-settle her excess population in our territory.”
Keizo rose from his chair and paced about the small room, filling its confines with his nervous energy. Raidan followed his brother’s movements with his eyes, holding his body still, betraying none of the tension he himself felt.
Abruptly, Keizo stopped pacing. He closed his eyes and pressed his hand to his forehead, then spoke. “I estimate that we have until the end of next spring to prepare. That gives us almost eleven months. Constantia won’t risk coming out until then. She’s not nearly ready yet, and besides, the Tono Pass will be blocked with snow until the end of Daira at least. Then, there’s the late season rains. If she marches on us before Kishan’s over, she risks her forces getting bogged down in mud.” Keizo shook his head. “No. She won’t march until early Nobe, I’m sure of it, and we must be ready to meet her. As you pointed out, if we don’t stop her at the Tono Valley, all is lost.”
Raidan opened his mouth to reply when a soft knock at the door interrupted him.
“Come!” the king called out.
One of the guards stepped into the room and offered a crisp salute. “Your Majesty, General Sakehera awaits your pleasure,” he announced.
Keizo’s face broke into a smile. “Send him in.” The guard saluted and withdrew.
“Now that Sakehera is here, we can plan in earnest,” Raidan said. The prince had a keen regard for the gruffly affable Lord of Kerala, stretching back many years to the time when he, Keizo, and Sakehera were just boys. Young Sen had spent several years fostering at the court of their father, Keizo the Elder, where he had gained a secure place for himself as Keizo the Younger’s favorite companion. Even then, he had often demonstrated a cunning intelligence that seemed at odds with his placid exterior. Raidan considered him one of the best minds in the realm.
A good man to have on one’s side, if the need should ever arise, Raidan thought.
The door swung open and Sen Sakehera strode briskly in, trailed by two younger men. All three bowed in unison. “Your Majesty,” Sakehera said.
“My friend! It’s been too long! Come, your king gives you permission to embrace him!” Keizo held out his arms and the two men embraced with unabashed pleasure. “You look exhausted,” the king observed.
Sen flashed a rueful smile. “We’ve just arrived. Haven’t even had time to knock the dust from our boots.” He indicated the two young men behind him with a wave. “I’ve brought my sons.”
“Yes, I see,” Keizo nodded. “Captain Sakehera, you have been away from my service for quite some time now. Your company-the Peregrines, I believe-will be pleased to have you back.”
“I sincerely hope so, Your Majesty,” the younger of Sen’s sons answered politely.
Raidan recognized Ashinji Sakehera and knew him to be a captain in the army, stationed in Sendai; his older brother Sadaiyo, Sen’s Heir, he did not know.
“Sakehera, your son Ashinji has a fine reputation within the service,” Raidan said. “He is a young man with a very bright future.” Sen beamed and laid a hand on the shoulder of his second son, a simple, yet telling gesture.
Skilled at both the art of observation and the science of deduction, Raidan surreptitiously studied Sen and his two sons. A slight downturn of the mouth, the appearance of a tiny crease between the eyes; the details were so subtle that even Raidan might have missed them had he not been specifically alert. Sadaiyo Sakehera hid his emotions well, but Raidan could still read them.