It also rained in Aspberg. An electrical storm poured not only rain but also millions of joules of energy into the city. It was an occasional blessing for such weather to come because it tended to cleanse the streets of some of the lesser wanted refuse and the air of the usual odor that accompanies large numbers of inhabitants.
Tyson watched out a window at the downpour. Behind him, Morteous and Serpent Blackheart were discussing their progress in the war in which they were presently involved. For their own reasons, the Blackheart Dynasty had defied a pact that had kept peace for hundreds of years. By raising a military force, they had threatened the king of the land and had marched against the capital city.
Tyson had been made aware of their motives, but had kept the knowledge to himself. Over the last year, he had come to realize that asking too many questions and telling too many answers in Aspberg was not healthy. If they wanted someone other than him to know, they would tell them.
Tyson turned back to face the inner room momentarily The chamber they were in was circular as were most of the rooms in the tower on the north side of the citadel. The spire of architecture soared upwards giving any occupants a clear view of the countryside for leagues around. It was also a good room for contemplation or meditation.
"I think we should withdraw our force," Morteous was saying. "Rigel didn't take your bait."
"Yes," Serpent agreed. "Our king displayed more backbone than I’d have thought. Instead of calling the forces of High Branch to rescue him at Keron, he instead laid siege to our own city."
"What a crafty old man he is." Serpent laughed. "Keron can hold out against our siege longer than Aspberg and Freon can hold out against his siege. Yet if I withdraw I lose face and probably most of my followers as well."
"From the view the king has it was a brilliant move against a power hungry tyrant trying to take the throne," Tyson said from the window.
"Right," Morteous agreed, "but it’s not the throne we’re after. All we want is a major battle."
"So what’s it matter what the world thinks of you, master" Tyson asked Serpent. "Let ‘em laugh at you. Let ‘em turn against you. Let every city and the entire planetary militia come after you and your allies. Let ‘em start a blood bath so deep that all the gods’ll come to witness your final victory."
"Perhaps that’s the proper thing to do," Serpent said slowly. "We certainly didn’t get what we were after at Keron. Our ambush of the king's forces failed when Rigel split his forces to lay siege to us."
"Normally, even half of the Army of High Branch is enough to defeat us. With our allies eager to collect souls we might initiate a battle large enough to summon the god of war, but there’s no guarantee. We need the other half of the army ensieging Freon to join in the attack."
"I think that if you withdrew your forces from Keron, Rigel would order pursuit," Morteous smiled as he leaned against a column. "After all have you not insulted him in raising your hand against Keron?"
"I tend to agree," Tyson added. "After such and arrogant display of force, the king’s most likely going to try to teach you a lesson in humility than forgive and forget. He’ll probably send his troops to run our forces into the ground."
"Yes," Serpent slammed his fist on the map table jubilantly. "If we recall the troops with all haste, we could stay well enough ahead of him to force him to call upon other forces to head us off. And those forces would of course come from the sieges."
"With that many soldiers upon a battle field, we’re sure to get the kind of massacre and carnage we’re after," Tyson added.
"Then we have a plan?" Morteous asked.
"Make it so," Serpent said. "Also I must speak with Miguel. I want to make sure that when the armies meet, we have as many fighters as possible. I want to turn the ground into an ankle deep lake of blood and gore. We may need to re-negotiate our alliance with our supporters for more time. Does anyone know where he is?"
Tyson smiled. "Have you tried the brothel?"
No comments:
Post a Comment