Exile's Honor

They had been working toward this moment for—well, years, decades, at least. Alberich had known better than to hope that their focus had diminished over the years. Their shock troops might be a combination of the dregs of the mercenary trade, criminals who sought sanctuary in their ranks, and whatever young men they could recruit with promises of adventure, excitement, and easy money, but the core was the Tedrel nation, whose longing for a new homeland had only strengthened, the longer that they went without a home.

If anything, the increase had been exponential with the land of Valdemar in their sight. The bitterness of those thrown out of their homeland by their enemies had been distilled by the years. Now it was as much of a weapon as the swords, spears, and arrows in the hands of the army.

And they had done something very clever this final season; Karse was used to their strategy of making a base from which they could strike into Valdemar, and didn't think twice about it when, once again, the Tedrel commanders had set about establishing yet another. But this time, with the Karsites lulled into complacency, they had built up their own troops and established a base that could be used equally well to strike at Valdemar or Karse, then made it clear to their erstwhile allies that they did not particularly care if further aid was delivered voluntarily or wrested from the Sunpriests by force. The Sunpriests must have been shocked to discover the monster they themselves had created, sitting on their doorstep, not to be budged, reasoned with, or countered, demanding that it be fed, and fed royally.

That much, Alberich and the others knew from the spies. And although he could not know this for certain, he was fairly sure that the Karsite treasury had been emptied, literally and completely, into the Tedrel coffers until even the rapacious maw of their army was sated. Shocked and dismayed, utterly undone and perhaps in a panic when they realized the position they had put themselves in, their first thought would be of self-defense. The coffers could be refilled, but if the Tedrels came in force to take what they wanted, they probably wouldn't stop with taking the gold and silver in the treasury—they would go on to help themselves to the personal treasures of the high- ranking priests... at the very least.

Supplies, the lifeblood of an army, were pouring in. And the means to transport those supplies, just as important, were not lacking either. If there was a cart or a beast in all of Karse that was not in the hands of the Tedrels, it was not for lack of money or effort. Trade had slowed to a crawl as carters, draymen, and teamsters flocked to make a small army of their own in the ranks of the Tedrels. Merchants couldn't find anyone to carry their goods; farmers were having to transport their own foodstuffs to market. The silver lure held out to recruit these notoriously independent souls was augmented by the guarantee that they would be sacrosanct, that no one could or would force them into the ranks of the soldiery. They would not fight; they would be guarded by fighters. The supply lines would roll, fat and heavy with everything the Tedrels needed. This time they would not plunder the countryside because they had to; they would not need to worry about living off the land.

Although Sunsguard soldiers did not go into the ranks of the Tedrel forces, there had been movement toward the Border, and now they had formed a line of defense on either side of the Tedrel base, ensuring that the Tedrels could not be flanked, at least on the Karsite side of the Border.

Brilliant. It was all brilliant. He couldn't fault their strategy.

Or their patience. They had waited all this time for their golden opportunity, and they were clearly not going to ruin that opportunity by forgetting that patience now. The Tedrels would move when the Tedrels were ready; not before, and not a candlemark later.

Talamir and the Lord Marshal were revealing all of this to the Council now. It was new to most of them, but only because they hadn't been paying attention. It wasn't as if they hadn't been warned, over and over again, that the Tedrels were going to keep coming at Valdemar until it fell, or they were destroyed and dispersed.

Alberich couldn't fathom it. It was as if the moment that the Tedrels retreated in the fall, the members of the Council forgot they existed and would be back in the spring. True, there were plenty of pressing concerns, but none, to his way of thinking, as the inevitability of the Tedrels making that final push. Perhaps, in the back of their minds, they hoped that eventually the Tedrels would give up and go away. After all, they had never yet won so much as a thumbnail's worth of Valdemaran land. But if that were so, then all of the things that all of the spies and Foreseeing Heralds and historians had been telling them had just gone right past them without being believed.

If they'd been paying as much attention as they should have been to all of the reports that Talamir had given them over the last few moons, they would know most of this. On the other hand, the fact that it was all coming as a horrible surprise was going to work in Sendar's favor. The Council could—and would, as Talamir and Sendar worked together like a pair of clever shepherd dogs—be stampeded into granting Sendar whatever he wanted.

One of those things was Alberich—no longer kept back in the shadows, ostensibly no more than a closely watched underling. Sendar wanted Alberich in the thick of things, at his or Selenay's side, seeing and hearing everything that was most important, most secret. This greater danger would make the members of the Council forget where Alberich came from and remember only the uniform, the quiet work on the seamy underside of Haven, the invaluable help in placing agents in Karse. And presumably, there would be no further objection to Alberich's presence wherever Sendar wanted him.

Granting him authority—well, that was another question altogether. Alberich didn't really need or want overt authority; he had all he could handle covertly.

But he would get, by virtue of being Selenay's most visible bodyguard, complete access to every strategy session. No one would think twice about it. If he really saw something important, and knew there was something that needed to be said, it would be said through Selenay, or Talamir, or even Sendar himself.

Ah, the advantage of being a Mindspeaking Herald....

:I think that the position of being behind the Powers that Be suits you better, anyway,: Kantor observed.