Brach’s forceful recruitment of young, able bodied men didn’t seem so alarming to the common folk. The whole of Westland would soon be chomping at the bit to avenge to death of the well loved Lion Lord.
The latest rumors pinned the blame on Seaward and the Valleyans. The noble trading houses, and major land holders were already sending their extra men to join in the upcoming campaign. It wouldn’t be long before Pael could send the whole of the Westlander army, King Glendar included, off to war with the east.
The only piece he needed to complete his puzzle was Ironspike. He didn’t want the blade for Glendar to wield on his fool’s quest to conquer the eastern kingdoms though. Pael needed the sword for other reasons. One of which, was that its presence would solidify the claim of the one who would soon replace Glendar, as the ruler of the west. Another reason was that Ironspike’s great power was the only possible thing that could stop his plans from playing out.
Upon hearing the news of Lord Gregory’s death, Lady Zasha had pleaded with King Glendar to let her and her father, Lord Ellrich, be dismissed from court so that they might escort Lord Gregory’s wife, Lady Trella, back to her home at Lake Bottom Stronghold. Zasha wanted to help her through her troubled time of grief.
Lady Trella had come to Lakeside Castle for the King’s coronation, and to help Zasha woo the new King. The excitement of the times had flared like a bonfire inside of her. Little Zasha’s mother had died while birthing her, and Trella had always acted as a matronly figure for the girl. The fact that Trella had no children of her own, only made the bond stronger.
Lake Bottom Stronghold was only a few days’ carriage ride from Settsted Stronghold, where Lord Ellrich and Lady Zasha resided. Being that the two families were the most powerful in all of Southern Westland, they visited each other often. That Zasha would ask for Trella’s advice, and confide in her so much, was heartening. Lake Bottom Stronghold was the most boring of places when Lord Gregory and his men were away. It wasn’t much better when they were there. Lady Trella had reveled in the giddy excitement that women share when love is blossoming, and she had been proud when Zasha had asked her to act as her matron during the courtship. Trella’s blaze had been extinguished rather abruptly though. Like an entire keg full of water being dumped over a single candle flame, the news of her husband’s death snuffed all of her cheer instantly and sent her tumbling into darkness.
Lady Zasha could not, and would not, let the closest thing to a mother she had ever known go home, feeling so miserable and alone. The Stronghold at Lakebottom was a great and mighty place, but it was a lonely place. For each of its breathtaking balcony views, and high arched windows, there was an empty unused room, full of dust and gloom. It was not a place for grieving, Zasha knew. She had to do something that would help Trella cope with her loss. What that something was, she had no idea, but leaving the woman to mourn alone was out of the question.
King Glendar, in a show of kindness and understanding, had very publicly granted part of her request. Zasha was allowed to return to Lake Bottom with Lady Trella, but with all the trouble brewing in the east, her father could not be spared. War was most certainly on the horizon, and the commander of the Marsh Border Garrison would be needed.
Lord Ellrich sent a small attachment of his most trusted men, to accompany the two ladies on the journey around Lion’s Lake. He did his best to hide it, but he felt fairly certain that it would be the last time he saw his daughter. He secreted a letter to her, through one of his men, for her to read when she was finally out from under Glendar’s wickedly deceitful thumb. The letter pleaded with her to find a way to dissuade King Glendar from making her his Queen, and if she couldn’t manage that, he wanted her to kill him in his sleep, for the good of the people of Westland.
“Send Lord Able all the supplies he has requested,” Pael told the men seated at his end of the long glossed oak table in the council hall. “As a matter of fact, double the quantity of the supplies he wants. After all, more men are gathering at Eastwatch as we speak. This request is a week old. The four thousand men it speaks of will be doubled by the time the wagons get there.”
For the moment, Pael was leaving the actual planning of the battle to King Glendar and Lord Brach. The two of them were at the other end of the table, hovering over a sprawl of maps and charts, conferring to themselves, and oblivious to Pael and the others. The Order Pael had just given, was written up quickly, by a thin-haired old scribe, and then it was passed to the wizard. He blobbed it with wax, and then put the King’s Seal on it, without even batting an eye at Glendar. Pael was in sole charge of the preparations, a duty he chose to perform himself, so that he wouldn’t come across any surprises when he took over the rest of the campaign.
“Lord Ellrich, it says here that you’re only able to supply your new King with two thousand men. Is that correct?” Pael asked rather loudly.
“High Wizard Pael,” Lord Ellrich started diplomatically, as he leaned back and rested his meaty arms across his huge belly. His bulk caused the chair to groan in protest. “As you know, the garrison at Settsted is our great kingdom’s only protection in the south. If men are not left there to guard the border, then the creatures of the marshes will slither right into Westland.”
Pael harrumphed loudly, and stood, making sure that the scraping of his chair legs, and the swiftness of his movement caught the attention of everyone in the room. He waited until he was sure that King Glendar was listening, and then he spoke harshly, while throwing up his arms in exasperation.
“Marsh creatures, m’lord, are you serious?”
The men sitting at Pael’s end of the table blanched, as if some wild magic was going to come flashing forth from the wizard’s hands. Lord Ellrich though, didn’t even bat an eye. He held Pael’s gaze steadily.
“We are about to wage war on the east!” Pael ranted. “They have butchered our people, innocent people, and in cold blood. One of our peers, Lord Gregory, lies dead at their hands. How many men does it take to fend off snakes and lizards?” Pael turned toward the King. “Can’t the farmers fend for themselves for a while?”
“May I?” Lord Brach asked the King respectfully.
Glendar nodded. He was interested and amused by the argument.
“How many men are left at Settsted?” Lord Brach asked.
He had been to the marshes and understood that Lord Ellrich had a valid concern here. Some of the creatures of that area were far more formidable than just snakes and lizards.
“Some two thousand men would remain,” the big lord answered.
He had never liked Lord Brach, but he could tell that the boot-licker was going to back him here. The man understood the dangers hidden within the swampy lands along Westland’s southern border.
“They are spread along the river, in the outposts from Depin all the way up to Locar. The rest are manning the garrison at Settsted that supplies the outposts.”
“We need those men, Lord Ellrich,” Brach said flatly. “Half of them anyway.” He turned to King Glendar, and spoke with just a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “A thousand soldiers should be able to keep the denizens of the swamp from taking over Westland while we are at war.”
Pael snorted contemptuously at Brach. The Lord of the North had over-stepped his bounds.
“Two hundred men should be able to manage that task, your Highness,” Pael snapped. “Not in a hundred years has a viable threat come out of those marshes.”
The room was silent then. All eyes fell on King Glendar. He seemed to be relishing the moment. It was one of the few times that Pael had left an important decision open for him to make. The intensity of the wizard’s glare wasn’t lost on him as he pondered his response. Pael was right, he decided. A few hundred men should be able to fend the snakes away. He didn’t want to offend his friend Lord Brach though. He thought it might be wise not to offend Lord Ellrich either, at least not until after he and Zasha were wed. If it weren’t for her, Ellrich’s fat jelly head would already be decorating one of the pikes by the gate. Ellrich was a greedy, sneaky man. Pael though, was probably just mad at being argued with.
“Five hundred should do on the marsh border,” Glendar said. “Leave two hundred more men at Settsted to supply the outposts.”
He glanced at Pael who looked no less angry at the decision than he had before. The wizard finally nodded to the scribe to make the order and sat back down.
The King went back to his maps, mildly gloating over his own diplomacy. The fact that the scribe had waited for Pael’s nod went over his head, but it wasn’t lost to Lord Ellrich, or Lord Brach.
Pael was furious, not at the King’s decision, but at himself, for letting the issue slip out of his control. To quell his rage, he shot a verbal blow at Ellrich.
