“That isn’t my decision to make,” the officer said.
“Then let me make it for you,” Tycho said. “You’re stationed here at the waterfront. When the fighting begins, if the fighting begins, the first area to be shelled into oblivion on both sides will be where, exactly?”
The Turk frowned. “I will see what I can do, major.”
“Thank you.”
The Turks escorted the Hellans through the brightly lit streets of Stamballa, between houses full of clinking plates and glasses where voices laughed and sang. Tycho frowned at each one in turn.
Constantia should be like this right now, instead of a shrieking tomb.
The walk was long and hard as much of it was uphill, but Tycho struggled along as quickly as his legs would allow and his marines, God bless them, kept their own pace to match his, which in turn forced the Turks to keep theirs.
Finally they reached the iron gates of a modest estate and the soldiers from the waterfront turned over the Hellans to the soldiers from the house. Tycho repeated his urgent need to speak with the prince, and a few minutes later, after some heated discussion and exchange of papers between the Eranian officers, the Hellans were allowed inside the gate.
When they reached the doors of the main house, a massive white building of soaring columns and tiled floors, Tycho loudly declared that his men would remain there while he met with the prince. He shared a pregnant look with Lycus as he handed his Mazigh revolver to the youth, trying to silently order the young marine to only make good decisions while he was gone. The boy looked back with grim confidence, but Tycho had no idea whether that was a good thing.
Inside the house, a young man in a crisp white evening jacket escorted Tycho to a small vestibule, and left him there. The room was empty, but Tycho was familiar enough with it. The door behind him led back to the hallway, and the door ahead of him led into the prince’s office. There was often a guard here as well, but at the moment Tycho was alone.
And now the waiting begins.
But after only a few minutes he heard shoes clacking sharply on the floor outside, the doors opened, and Radu strode inside. The prince’s jacket was open, his shirt unbuttoned at his throat, and there was a certain disorder to his oiled black hair that Tycho found disconcerting.
He’s usually the very picture of nobility. This is bad.
“Major.” The prince strode past and opened the door to his office, and disappeared inside.
Tycho hesitated, glancing back to see if any of the usual guards or clerks would be joining them, but there was no one else about. Tycho entered the office.
Radu sat behind his desk, his hands on the arms of his chair, a tired scowl on his face. “Fabris is in a cell, there is a bullet in his stomach, and neither will be coming out any time soon.”
So he’s still alive, for the moment. I suppose that’s something.
Tycho nodded. “May I ask what happened?”
“He threatened me with a sword.”
“Oh?” Tycho struggled to keep his voice calm. “I thought he always left his sword at home when he visited you.”
“He did. He helped himself to a seireiken, right here in this very room.”
“I see.” Tycho glanced quickly across the floor but saw no signs of blood or other damage. “I trust you are well, Highness?”
“He tried to negotiate for Koschei’s release, which I had expected, of course. Then he threatened me with fairy tales about witches and nightmares,” Radu said. “He was desperate, practically raving. I’d never seen him like that before.”
“Yes, well, he had good cause.” Tycho glanced out the window, but the glare from the lamp on the desk made it difficult to see anything outside in the darkness. “Highness, at this very minute your warships off the Seraglio Point are drifting at anchor. Half of Constantia is already shrouded in darkness and silence. What Salvator told you is true. Baba Yaga has gone insane and is at this very moment covering the land and sea with a cloud of aether that drives anyone mad with fear when it touches them. And at this very moment, that cloud is stretching out across the Strait. It will be here within the hour.”
Radu showed no reaction. “Then I will tell you what I told your friend. Let it come. The Empire of Eran will not be threatened or intimidated by a sad old woman or a light fog, major. I’m disappointed in you.”
Tycho nodded slowly. “Fair enough. I suppose if I were in your position, I wouldn’t believe a story like that either, especially coming from an enemy.”
Radu waved impatiently. “Is that all? Is that why you came tonight, to repeat this pathetic lie?”
“You’ve been sending scouts across the Strait,” Tycho said loudly as he stared out the dark window. He still couldn’t see anything out there but he often found it easier to talk to the prince when his back was turned. “We know you’ve sent scouts up into Thrace. We’ve captured one of them. I assume there were more.”
“Naturally,” Radu said.
“You’ve sent them to Saray.”
“And farther north, as well.” The prince smiled.
“And we have scouts throughout Turkiya and Syria and Babylonia,” Tycho replied. “That isn’t the point. The point is, what have these scouts of yours reported? What have they seen in the north? They’ve told you about the army, the deathless ones, the army of the dead, haven’t they?”
Radu shrugged. “They report on many things.”
“Ah.” Tycho glanced over his shoulder. “You don’t believe those stories either, then?”
“Of course not. This army of the dead is nothing more than a band of killers and thieves dressed in filthy rags to frighten Hellan farmers.”
“Did they frighten your scouts as well?”
Radu didn’t answer.
Tycho came back to the desk. “Highness, you may not want to hear these things, you may not want to believe them, but they are true all the same. If a man had never seen a gun before and you pointed one at him from across a room and said it would kill him in an instant, he would be well within his rights to think you were lying. But he’d die all the same.”
“So I should believe you now? I should believe that an old woman from Rus is going to bring the entire city of Stamballa to its knees tonight?”
“She’s already brought a third of Constantia to its knees, and I have no doubt that the aether storm will continue to spread. Look across the water, Highness. See for yourself. The city is dark. There are no candles, no lanterns, no fires, not even smoke from the chimneys. Every man and woman and child in the southern part of the city is lying on the floor, paralyzed, and screaming in terror.”
Radu fidgeted with a pen on his desk.
“As for the army of the dead, if you don’t want to believe me, believe your own scouts, believe their reports,” Tycho said.
The prince dropped his pen and sighed. “And if I do believe you? I should set Koschei free, yes? That’s what you want. You want your precious immortal back.”
“It’s a little late for that,” Tycho said. “The cloud has already swallowed the palace and your ships. There’s no one left standing to set Koschei free, and no way for us to reach him.”
Radu threw up his hands. “All this time you’ve been trying to get Koschei back, and now you don’t want him?”
“I don’t give a damn about Koschei. The man’s a pig and a butcher. But yes, if you had set him free this afternoon, it might have saved us from this disaster, but now that disaster is here,” Tycho said. “I’m here to help you, Highness. You need to evacuate this district, and be prepared to evacuate more.”
“I won’t leave my city undefended,” Radu said sternly.
“Then get the civilians out! Save the children, for God’s sake!” Tycho snapped. He paused to tug his jacket down and run his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, Highness, that was uncalled for.”
Radu smiled just a little. “I believe you. Maybe not entirely, but enough for the moment. All right. I’ll have the district emptied immediately, civilians only.”
“Fine, good, thank you,” Tycho said. “There’s probably nothing else we can do about the aether tonight. We’ll just have to weather this storm as best we can. But in the mean time, there is something else you should do. Send your scouts across the Strait at the northeast end of the city and have them check the area just north of Constantia.”