With Arodian missing and presumed dead by all aboard—all efforts at finding the commander having failed—Drust had been able to hand over command of the army to Tinnen March, Arodian’s capable if unimaginative second in command, a man the Prime Minister could work with far more easily than his predecessor. There had been little outcry following the announcement of Arodian’s disappearance. Perhaps not everyone believed that it was an accident, but those who didn’t were too afraid to say so. Better to let these things be when you were a common soldier.
The day was winding down, the sun drifting west, the night coming on, and the air turning cool. A watch on the Keep had been deployed right after the attempt to penetrate Paranor’s walls had failed, with sentries dispatched to surround the fortress. Flits and pilots were assigned to monitor any attempts at an air escape. Whatever else happened, Drust had instructed March, no one was to get in or out of the Keep. No word of what was happening here was to reach the ears of the other Races until he had settled with the Druids. He didn’t explain how he intended to do this, and the newly appointed army commander was smart enough not to ask.
In truth, Drust didn’t think for one moment that he had the means to stop an airship from leaving the Keep. His own warships were too battered to leave the ground, and his cruiser was destroyed. A transport, a scout ship, and two dozen flits could hardly be expected to stop anything. But he wanted Paranor’s defenders to know he meant business; perhaps they would hold off on any escape attempts if they believed themselves better off staying inside the safety of the walls.
By the time they realized they had misjudged the situation, it would be too late.
Stoon came up to him and stood waiting to be acknowledged. By now, no one questioned the assassin’s presence. He was a common sight, the Prime Minister’s man, his personal assistant. Stoon played his part by doing nothing to suggest that he was anything else. He kept a low profile and stayed out of the way.
Stoon started to speak, but Drust cut him off. “Not here. We’ll walk.”
They set off along the perimeter of the Keep’s walls, safely out of sight in the woods, trailed at some distance by the omnipresent guards assigned to protect the Prime Minister. There was activity all around them—the sounds of wounded men, of hammers pounding on wood and metal, of shouted orders and replies, and of timber being felled to fashion new masts and spars. The smells of dust and grime and blood wafted through the air, and the earth where the fleet had camped was already torn up and rutted. Drust tried to avoid looking at it or breathing any of it in. He tried to distance himself from the unpleasantness it caused him to feel. He had already done what was expected of him. He had made it a point to commend the airship commanders and their immediate subordinates on the courage they had displayed during the battle and had assured them they had not suffered a defeat, only a temporary setback. He had issued everyone a ration of ale and ordered a second to be served along with the evening meal.
Now he just wanted it all to go away. Or better yet, for their mission be over and done with.
“What were the final numbers?” he asked Stoon when they were safely out of hearing.
“Over five hundred dead—more than three hundred from the Wistral alone. She took everyone down with her. About twice that number injured. Some of those will die, too.” He paused. “Not a good day.”
Drust nodded. He could barely contain his rage. “You want desperately to tell me that you told me so, that you warned me an attack would fail, don’t you?”
Stoon shrugged. “You’ve just said it for me.”
“You think I accomplished nothing today?”
“Not knowing exactly what it was you wanted to accomplish, I can’t say. On the surface of things, it doesn’t appear much was achieved.”
Drust sneered. “You are so careful with how you word things. You should have considered a career as a politician; you have the skills for it.”
“I’m happy just as I am, thank you.”
“I’m a bit less happy with you than you are with yourself. You realize that, don’t you? Letting me think I was about to be thrown over the side of my own airship! I haven’t forgotten.”
“I have explained all that. It was the only way to dispose of Arodian. Anyway, with Edinja gone, as well, you have no immediate threat from within the Coalition Council. It’s what you wanted.”
Drust grunted, knowing that the other man was right but not in the least bit mollified by it. He was still shaken by how easily their assault on Paranor had been repulsed. He could still see that black cloud rising up from the Keep’s walls and swatting his airships aside.
But he would not let Stoon see this. “Today’s efforts were not made with the expectation of achieving victory,” he declared firmly, determined to put the best face possible on what had happened. “It would have been excellent if we could have seized the Keep in one day’s time, but contrary to what you might think I did not believe that was how things would go. I understood what we were up against. You notice, however, that the plan we arranged worked well enough?”
Stoon nodded. “They fired first, giving you cause to respond. Yes, I saw. But I think you believed your fire launchers and flash rips would be enough to overcome their magic.”
“I won’t argue that. I expected more from our weapons. But the Druids have had years to arm Paranor, and whatever magic protects it wasn’t conjured overnight.
“Anyway, we might have done some damage even if we didn’t get inside. You saw the walls.”
“I saw them. They didn’t look particularly damaged to me.”
Drust rubbed his forehead, further annoyed. “Do we have a way to get into the Keep yet?”
Stoon shook his head. “I’m waiting to hear.” He paused. “I think it will happen. I just don’t know when.”
“Soon would be good.” Drust gave him a look. “Very soon would be better. I need to end this quickly.” He paused. “I’ve put a lot of faith in this plan of yours.”
Stoon smiled. “You said yourself it’s worked so far. Paranor apparently attacked us first, so we were given cause to retaliate. Our key to opening the gates and sacking the place waits just inside. He’ll do what he’s supposed to do. I’ve used him before. He’s dependable. He likes this sort of thing. It makes him feel superior when he thinks he’s smarter than everyone else.”
“I’ll say it again—this has to happen quickly. Once word of our attack gets out, others will almost certainly attempt to intervene. I want us inside the Keep and in control of its walls before that happens. I want the Druids either disposed of or imprisoned. If your man is so smart, he should be able to do what is needed to make that happen.”
“Patience, Drust.”
“I don’t have any patience left. I don’t have any wish to be patient. I want this matter settled, Stoon.” He said it quietly, but with an edge to his voice that the other couldn’t miss. “If this turns into the debacle we both knew it might, I will be the one to face the consequences. I am fairly certain I can predict what those consequences will be. And what happens to me happens to you. Find a way to get us in!”
He wheeled away and began walking back toward the encampment, the heat of his anger rising off him like steam. He glanced at the darkening sky and felt a measure of relief. At least this day was almost over. Perhaps tomorrow would prove more favorable.
“One thing more,” he said when Stoon was back beside him again. “When you do find a way in, I want you to be one of the first to enter.” He gave the other a sharp glance and caught the small nod of agreement that served as a reply. “Not to put you in danger,” he added. “But for something else entirely.”
“Which would be?” The assassin sounded genuinely interested.
“I want you to take that Elessedil girl alive. After I have personally removed her tongue and cut off her hands, I intend to give her to the soldiers.”