'I can't believe Amrag would do that. What would it benefit him?'
'He'd get here before the Elves could. They can't sail in winter. If he can bring his army over here before they arrive, he'll have already avoided half the opposition.'
'But think of the logistics. Marching in winter? Ores aren't that much hardier than Humans. They'd never get here. Neither would their dragons, they get sluggish in the cold. They couldn't fly all the way here in winter. And their navy couldn't support them on the coast.'
'That's what the War Council thinks,' says Lisutaris. 'Old Hasius went so far as to suggest I'd intercepted a message that Prince Amrag had planted deliberately to confuse us.'
She shrugs.
'Possibly I did. The Orcish Sorcerers Guild is a lot more powerful than they used to be, and possibly a lot more subtle. Some of the mystical defences they've set up in the past few years have surprised me with their complexity. It's not impossible I've been misled. Nonetheless, I'm worried.'
'Has any other Sorcerer reached the same conclusions as you?'
Lisutaris admits they haven't. No other Sorcerer thinks there is any chance of the Ores attacking before winter is through. According to Lisutaris, several foreign Sorcerers are doubtful that the Ores are planning to invade at all. Personally, I don't doubt Lisutaris for a second. Few Sorcerers can equal her in terms of power and knowledge. Few in the west, and none in the east. The Mistress of the Sky has a matchless talent. Apart from when she's too wrecked on thazis to work her spells. That's not too often.
'Could you pull that bell rope for me?' she asks. 'I can't seem to lift my arms.'
I frown at her.
'No thought of giving up thazis for the duration of the war?'
'Why?'
'So you can lead the forces of western sorcery in a last-ditch attempt to save humanity?'
Lisutaris starts to giggle.
'Save humanity,' she says, several times, and laughs out loud. Her laughter subsides to a chuckle before she sticks the water pipe back in her mouth.
The last piece of information I learn from her is that there's a meeting of the War Council tomorrow, followed by a meeting of the Lesser War Council, at which I will be expected to attend. As I leave the room she's slumped on her chair, puffing thazis, still laughing about the amusing notion of saving humanity. Her servants follow me to the front door.
'The mistress should not allow you in this house,' says the servant I barged past at the door.
'You're right. She shouldn't. I'm a bad element.'
She glares at me with loathing in her eyes. That happens to me a lot.
Chapter Six
The meeting of the Lesser War Council is chaired by Cicerius, assisted by Hansius. Thirty people are gathered in the conference room, many of whom I've never encountered before. Prefects from each part of the city, their assistants, the Praetors who normally answer only to the Consul, the newly created Tribunes, plus officials from the Palace, the Civil Guards and the military. I'm surprised to see that Senator Lodius is here. Lodius is the head of the opposition Populares party. He's the main opponent of the Consul in the Senate and a bitter critic of the Traditionals. His reforming, anti-monarchy party has been enjoying increasing support in Turai in the past few years. In consequence, the city's rulers hate him. I can only presume he's here as some sort of attempt at national unity in the face of a crisis.
I'm not exactly keen on Lodius myself. He's always going on about the need to distribute the city state's wealth more fairly. I could do with some wealth being distributed in my direction, but he's always struck me as a man who'd say anything in order to gain power for himself. I have the strong feeling that if he ever did come to power, all talk of democratic reform would be quietly forgotten about. Apart from this, he blackmailed me into helping him last year, and I resent being blackmailed.
Lodius is accompanied by Rittius, a political ally of his. Rittius hates me more than anyone in the city.
Being at such a meeting is a strange experience. I've had little to do with officialdom in any capacity and have never served on a committee before. It goes against the grain. Due to the urgency of the situation and the danger we're all facing, I've managed so far to forget my natural mistrust of the city authorities. I've even managed to take orders from Prefect Drinius without abusing him to his face, but as I sit in the room listening to Prefect Resius drone on about the capacity for grain storage in Jade Temple Fields, I find myself impatiently wishing the meeting to be over. The organisation of the city's defence is important but it's starting to get on my nerves.
While Prefect Drinius is giving a report on the available stock of raw material for weapon making - which will be followed by another report on the capacity of the royal armoury - I find myself nodding off and have to concentrate to stay awake. I'm looking forward to a break for food. By my calculations lunch should be served any time now. Unfortunately, Cicerius seems dissatisfied with some elements of Prefect Drinius's report and begins a long series of questions which Drinius responds to with equally long answers. I sigh. When I fought in the last war I had no involvement in its planning. I didn't realise it was so tedious.
I start daydreaming about the possible food on offer. It will, I understand through some determined questioning of the catering staff, be delivered through the back door on a series of trolleys. Will it be a proper meal with platters of beef and venison? Or just a collection of those small fancy pastries they seem so fond of in the Consul's offices? I'm hoping for something more substantial. Not that there's anything wrong with the pastries - they're made by a fine hand in the kitchen - but they're not really enough to sustain a man. Not when he's faced with several hours of talk about aqueducts. I look suspiciously round, wondering who else might be planning a sudden dash towards the food. It could be I've made something of a tactical error in sitting in the middle of the room. When the victuals arrive I might miss out. Prefect Galwinius, right at the back, is a notable eater, as is his assistant. They both have a hungry look about them and they're well placed for a sudden dash to the trolleys. If they get to the food first there'll be precious little left for latecomers. I curse myself for my carelessness and start edging my chair backwards. If Prefect Galwinius thinks he's having it all his own way with the provisions he can think again. I've outsmarted better men than him at the pastry cart.
'By this time next month there must be at least one hundred tons of raw iron ore at the—'
The Deputy Consul is interrupted by the clattering noise of food trolleys appearing through the door. I'm on my feet and halfway to the back before anyone else has moved. Galwinius sees me coming and makes a brave effort at hauling himself out of his chair, but I knock him out of the way and tread on his assistant's foot as I pass, leaving them reeling in confusion. I make it to the trolleys first and start hacking a thick slice off a slab of venison before grabbing a handful of yams and loading them on to my tray, followed by as much as everything else as I can lay my hands on.
'You ill-mannered oaf,' hisses Galwinius, appearing at the rear.
'Wartime,' I reply. A man needs to be quickly into action.'
All in all, it's a successful mission and I'm moving away from the trolleys with a heavy tray of food while the stragglers are still making their first approach. It's the sort of fast and deadly assault which made me such a force on the battlefield. I find myself next to Deputy Consul Cicerius and greet him affably.
'You did not take long to avail yourself of the Consul's hospitality,' he says, drily.
'When it comes to a crisis I know how to act.'
Cicerius eyes me with distaste.
'I was in the middle of a speech.'
And very interesting it was too. I count it an honour to be in your service.'