Part 41 (1/2)

”Then you know he's a teetotaler, like you. Well, last night he was p.i.s.s drunk.”

”Why?”

”Ipille has ordered the entire Grand Army to make a stand at the mouth of Surkov's Alley.”

”So? That doesn't seem like an unreasonable order.”

”So?” the woman retorted, before draining the rest of the wineskin. ”So Ipille doesn't think he can win. He's been with the army for the last two months and now he's turning tail and running back to Kez. General Fulicote and all the rest have been ordered on what they know is a suicide mission. Ipille told them that any man who runs from the battle will be caught and publicly flayed.”

”Do you have proof of this?”

The woman removed a letter from her bodice and smoothed it against her skirt before handing it to Tamas. It bore the royal seal of the Kez king, hastily broken by a clumsy thumb. Tamas opened the letter and skimmed the contents. Ipille was ordering his men to make a stand, but the final threat at the end allowed Tamas to read between the lines, just as General Fulicote and this spy had done: The Kez army wasn't meant as anything more than cannon fodder to slow down Tamas and the Deliv.

Tamas returned to his chair, deep in thought. ”What could he possibly gain by this?” he muttered.

”The Kez have all been asking the same thing of you since you attacked after the parley.”

Tamas was up on his feet again. ”That was Ipille. He broke that parley.”

”That's not what his officers think. I've managed to spend the night with four senior Kez officers since then and not a single one of them thinks Ipille actually broke the parley. They're convinced that you and the Deliv fabricated the whole thing so you could push into Kez and try to dethrone Ipille.”

”I would do no such thing.” Tamas shook his head. Why was he explaining himself to a spy? A niggle of doubt had entered his mind. If Ipille hadn't launched the attack on his men during the parley in order to kidnap Ka-poel, then who had?

He didn't have time to wonder. If Ipille was fleeing and throwing his whole army away, that meant he had some kind of plan. Whether he meant to force Ka-poel to awaken Kresimir or he planned to retreat to his capital and spend the winter raising levies and trying to forge alliances among the Nine, it didn't matter. Tamas needed to end this quickly.

”Report to General Arbor, he'll see that you get somewhere to rest,” he said over his shoulder. ”Andriya, get my horse!” He ran into his tent and sorted through his maps until he found one of southern Adro.

Thirty minutes later he strode into Sulem's command tent. The Deliv king was surrounded by half a dozen members of his royal cabal and five of his generals. ”We need to speak,” Tamas said.

Sulem shushed the angry mutters of his generals and cabal with a raised hand. ”Everyone out,” he said.

They were alone within moments. ”Do you read Kez?” Tamas asked.

”Yes.”

Tamas handed him Ipille's orders to his general. Sulem read the letter twice and examined the seal. ”May I have my Privileged check the authenticity?”

”By all means.”

”Vivia!” Sulem called. The caramel-skinned Privileged arrived a moment later and took the letter with a few words of instruction before disappearing.

Tamas began to pace the tent, his mind racing. Royal seals always had the faint touch of sorcery to them, much like a ward. It allowed generals in the field to check for authenticity. Tamas had been able to sense it himself, but Sulem needed to be convinced as well.

”These are the words of a desperate man,” Sulem said. ”You should be pleased.”

”He's trying to buy time. He knows that we won't advance into Kez while the snows fall.”

”So what if he does? My armies have by now ravaged the Amber Expanse. They shall retreat to Alvation for the winter and sharpen their bayonets. Come spring we will crush whatever resistance the Kez have left.”

Tamas paused in his pacing. He still did not want to explain to Sulem about Kresimir and Ka-poel. Nor did he think that Sulem cared much for the fact that a Brudanian army held Adopest. ”He may be able to forge alliances. If Starland or Novi decides to enter the war on their side, this war will last for ages.”

”Novi wouldn't dare,” Sulem said with a wave of his hand.

One flap of the tent parted as Vivia returned. She handed Sulem the letter. ”It's Ipille's,” she said, and slipped back out the way she had come.

Tamas advanced to the table in the middle of Sulem's tent and pushed several maps and correspondence out of the way, laying his own map of southern Adro down and rubbing it smooth. ”I will not allow this war to last any longer.”

”You have a plan?” Sulem approached the table curiously.

”The Kez will likely gather here and prepare for our approach,” Tamas said, pointing to the northern entrance to Surkov's Alley. ”They're less than half a day ahead of us. I propose that we march double-time into the night tonight and all day tomorrow and catch them unawares.”

The Kez king frowned at that. ”You mean to stop them before they can secure a defensive position at Surkov's Alley?”

Tamas smiled. ”I mean to do much more than that.”

CHAPTER.

36.

When Adamat told his carriage driver to take him to the Flerring Powder Company on the west side of Adopest, he hadn't expected them to head well outside of the city and into the countryside.

He and SouSmith climbed out of their carriage at about three o'clock in the afternoon the day after their visit to Uskan and paused to examine their surroundings. The chemical company was at the end of a dirt track several miles off the main highway. It appeared to be a collection of over two dozen buildings of various sizes spread out at distant intervals across a wide field. A creek ran through the center of the complex, providing power to a single mill.

Near the river, set apart from the rest of the buildings by some several hundred yards, Adamat noted a black smudge of dirt that looked like it had once been the foundation for yet another building.

The perils of making gunpowder.

Adamat headed toward the largest of the buildings.

He was stopped just outside the building by a woman holding a blunderbuss. She stood half a head taller than Adamat and had the shoulders of a boxer. Long brown hair half covered her eyes, and she leaned against the building door. She pointed the weapon lazily at his feet.

”Can I help you?”

Adamat noticed the cudgel hanging from her belt and wondered if she was the only guard. He didn't think that likely. Companies like this needed manpower to keep their secrets safe from compet.i.tors. ”I'm looking for Flerring the Elder,” Adamat said.

”Do you have an appointment?”

”I don't.”

”What do you want?”

”I need to discuss a matter of some urgency.”

”And that is?”