The report seemed to satisfy Dad, though. I also liked what I heard. Locke and Davin seemed to have a solid grasp of military matters. From the sound of things, their newest recruits had begun to pull together into an able combat force and would be ready to join the rest of the troops in just a few weeks.
“How many men are under your command?” I asked Davin, hoping to win a few points with him by showing an interest. Perhaps he could use whatever influence he had with Locke to put us on better terms.
“Nearly two hundred thousand,” he said off-handedly. “Give us another year and we will have half a million… the finest force ever assembled, if I do say so myself.”
“We may not have a year,” Dworkin said.
“Did you say—two hundred thousand?” The number shocked me.
“Well, a few thousand more, actually,” Davin said with a little shrug. “I haven’t seen the latest figures yet. More keep arriving all the time.”
“Where are they coming from?” I wasn’t sure all of Ilerium had that many able-bodied fighting men.
“Oh, far and wide.” He met my gaze. “We recruit from a dozen Shadows, including some where we are worshipped as gods. They are eager to join.”
“I would have guessed fifteen or twenty thousand men in total,” I said, thinking back to the size of the camp around the castle. Their numbers made King Elnar’s fight against the hell-creatures look like an alley brawl in comparison. “Where do you keep them all quartered?”
“There are additional companies stationed to the north and east of Juniper. We only have so much space around the castle, after all.”
“With a tenth that many,” I mused aloud, “it would be a simple matter to drive the hell-creatures from Ilerium once and for all…”
Davin brayed with laughter. I flushed, realizing how ridiculous that must have sounded to him. Ilerium was but one world amidst all the Shadows cast by the Courts of Chaos, meaningless to anyone except me… and well beyond the concern of anyone else at this table. Never mind that I had spent the last twenty years there, and that I had dedicated my life to serving my king and my country.
And never mind that those vows still weighed on me.
“With you gone,” Dworkin reminded me in gentle tones, “the enemy no longer has any reason to attack Ilerium. They will leave it alone to concentrate on other battles.”
“Like here,” I said, realizing the truth. “That’s why you’ve brought all these soldiers to Juniper, isn’t it. You’re getting ready for an attack.”
“Very good!” Davin said in lightly mocking tones, a pale imitation of Locke now. “Give the man a prize.”
I gave a shrug and did not bother to reply. Sometimes it’s better to say nothing. Locke had taken an instant dislike to me, and Davin had obviously taken his cue and done the same. Even so, I hoped they both might eventually be won over as allies—perhaps even as friends—with some effort on my part.
I said, “Two hundred thousand men… all fully trained? Armed and armored? Ready for battle?”
Davin smiled. “That’s right. We’ve been preparing them for a year now.”
I frowned. “The logistics of keeping such a force—the food supply alone, not to mention the costs! How is it possible? Juniper looks well off, but surely it can’t support a standing army of such size for long!”
“All we need is taken from Shadow,” Davin said with a grand wave of his arm. “We’re worshipped as gods on countless thousands of worlds. People are happy to tithe us all we need—food, weapons, gold, jewels. Everything.”
“But why so many? Do we really need two hundred thousand men? Or half a million? How many hell-creatures do you expect will attack?”
Freda said, “If we command this many, so too may other Lords of Chaos. They have had longer to prepare… they might well command more. Perhaps millions more.”
I found the numbers incredible. That my family could sustain a force of two hundred thousand, let alone train and manage it, spoke greatly of their general competence in such matters.
Dworkin said, “An attack is coming, and soon. Freda has seen it.”
“In her cards?”
I glanced at her, and she gave a little nod.
“Soon,” she said.
“Oberon has given me some good news, though,” Dworkin said happily. “Taine is alive.”
There were exclamations all around the table.
“How? Where?” Freda demanded.
I took a minute to tell them of my dream or vision or whatever it had been—the few details I could still recall, anyway. Dworkin had to remind me of several key points as I stumbled through the narrative.
“Are you certain it was real?” Davin asked me, sounding more than a little skeptical.
“No, I’m not,” I said. I had more than a few doubts myself. “I have no experience in such things.”
Dworkin said, “Remember, Oberon has never been to the Courts of Chaos. He had never even heard of it before today. In his dream, however, the blood flowed up. That is a detail he could not have guessed or imagined. I believe his vision is true. Somewhere, somehow, Taine is still alive.”
“Indeed,” Freda said.
Davin looked thoughtful suddenly and regarded me with what I thought was a new-found respect.
“The question now,” he said, “is what do we do? How can we rescue Taine?”
“Perhaps his Trump…” Aber said.
Freda shook her head. “I have tried that too many times now. He cannot be reached.”
“When was the last time?” I asked.
She thought carefully before replying. “Perhaps two weeks ago.”
“It never hurts to try again,” Dworkin said. “Perhaps, knowing he is alive, you will have a better chance of reaching him.”
“I will try,” she said, “as soon as dinner is over. We should all try.”
There were murmurs of agreement from all present. It seemed they all had Trumps depicting Taine and could use them.
I felt a measure of pride. Perhaps I was more than a cripple after all. Maybe I had my own form of magic to fall back upon… visions that showed more than Freda’s Trumps.
Servants began bringing in platters bearing the next course—cubes of beef, nicely pink and steaming, artfully arranged with waxy looking yellow-and-red striped beans. Unfortunately, as delicious as it looked, I found my appetite completely gone. A restlessness came over me, a need to get up and do something active rather than sit and wait for the meal to end.
Pointedly, I stifled a yawn.
“If you don’t mind,” I said to Dworkin, “I’d like to retire. Everything I’ve been through today is starting to catch up with me. I’m going to fall asleep in this chair if I don’t get some rest.”
“Off you go, then.” He made shooing motions with his fork. “Pleasant dreams, my boy. I will send for you again tomorrow. There are still a few matters we must discuss.”
“Yes, Dad,” I said, rising.
Freda, Aber, and all the rest—even Davin—bade me good night. They all had interesting expressions on their faces: not so much pity, now, as a kind of awe or wonder. I might not be able to walk the Logrus as they had done, but it seemed I shared at least some of their powers. Dworkin had been right to show it off before them. This way they wouldn’t dismiss me outright, the way Locke had done.
I strode out into the corridor, pausing only long enough to get my bearings. Although exhaustion really did threaten to overwhelm me, I knew I had work to do: Ivinius’s body remained hidden behind that tapestry. I had to dispose of it without being seen.
Instead of going back to my rooms, however, I decided to explore the castle a bit more. There might be a safe, easy passage out—I just had to find it.
Unfortunately, every way I turned, I found more servants moving on errands or scrubbing the floors or changing candles or filling reserves in oil lamps. The castle’s staff had to number in the hundreds.