Chapter 1

Cestralion, Aurorin Province, Lynese

William stood on the balcony of the viceroy’s keep, watching as snow fell, blanketing the city of Cestralion. Despite the cold and its occupation by a hostile force, the city bustled with activity, people going about their daily lives as if nothing had changed.

“Seems strange, doesn’t it?” Pembroke said, joining William at the railing, his breath misting in the frigid air.

“My lord?”

“The quiet. The people going about their lives. We took a city from them, killing so many of their fathers, sons, brothers, and husbands on our march here. You’d think there would be more unrest.”

“I don’t think it matters to their daily lives. Their men have been sent to the coast during maw season and to put down uprisings, dying for far away masters. Life goes on. As long as we don’t abuse them or put more of a burden on them, they’re quiet, if not content. Less food has traveled to rich cities to the south, which has meant more food on their tables. They just want to live their lives, we just need to leave them to it.”

“Maybe,” Pembroke said, sounding unconvinced.

That surprised William a little. Pembroke was a good man, but a noble through and through. He, and his father, and his father’s fathers had been born into nobility. Living lives of wealth and privilege. They had no idea what real need, not just want but the most basic need, was like.

William had never been poor himself, of course, but he had not been born a noble. He didn’t remember his father, but his mother had told him of the man. How he struggled to provide for them.

And William remembered his friends, from before Edmund married his mother, not all of whom had been wealthy. True, it was a long time ago and he had lived as nobility more than half his life, but he remembered what it was like, and had a frame of reference for it.

“However, I’m certain you didn’t ask me here to discuss the people of Cestralion,” Pembroke said when William refused the bait.

“I did not. I wanted to talk to you about Talabot.”

“What about it?”

“With Barentez secure, I want to turn our attention there. It’s the last large port the Lynesians have in the north. If we can take it, we’ll control the entire coast.”

“True, but Talabot will be a tough nut to crack. It’s well defended, and the Lynesians know how important it is. They won’t give it up easily.”

“I know, but I think we have an opportunity. We sent the Lynesian army that sallied out of Talabot to try and retake Barentez back to the city in defeat, along with the soldiers who escaped our attack on the port. Morale has to be low.”

“That was a sally in winter for a port we already held. They will offer a stronger resistance once we directly assault their home, and we do not have the men to waste against their walls. Not and still be effective on a march south,” Pembroke said.

“True, but the snows have started, and the men have marched to the maw. This is the season when armies hold and campaigns pause. Surprise would be on our side. They think they’re safe behind their walls until the thaw.”

“There’s a good reason armies don’t campaign in winter, my prince. Supply lines become treacherous, and provisions themselves grow scarce. Ours is worse than many armies, trying to live off of the harvest we took without our own supplies coming in. Our men would move slowly, vulnerable to ambush and the elements. Meanwhile, the enemy sits comfortably behind their walls, warm and well-fed. Your ruse in Barentez was brilliant, to be sure, but the Lynesians know we control the northern seas and have blocked all shipping to Talabot. They would not fall for that trick twice.”

“Which is why I would not suggest the same ruse. I want to send a small part of our force, maybe Sir Alistair’s men, south, toward Valemonde. I don’t want them to assault the city, but I want them to make a lot of noise as they travel. I want them to seem like a much larger army than they actually are, leaving encampments in their wake that would suggest significantly more men than they have, setting up fires at night that aren’t needed, moving frequently but taking little ground. I want the enemy to notice them.”

“To what end?”

“Talabot has the only large, organized force in the northern half of the continent. The rest were dispatched toward the maw. They know Valemonde is our ultimate goal, which is why they retained a force there at all, so they can threaten an attack from our rear should we march on Talabot, or so Talabot can attack from our rear should we march on Valemonde. They offer each other mutual protection.”

“So you send a force in between them to ... what, be attacked by both sides?”

“No. Valemonde’s forces will only march if they see us engaged. They had to send so many of their men to the southeast, they just don’t have the forces to come out against us, which is why moving now, while they’re understrength, is the best move for us. In the spring, they’ll be reinforced, and any move will end up with us fighting in two directions.”

“Do you really think they’ll take the bait? They only need a few scouts to see through the ruse.”

“We’ll have to be aggressive in countering their scouting, no doubt about that, but I think they will take the bait we offer. It’s what they’ll expect. They know I’m in command now, and I’ve heard what everyone says about me. I’m the warrior cub. A hothead, aggressive, and inexperienced. They’ll expect something like this from me. I’ll lead the group that rides out, with my banners and personal guard. They’ll see what they expect to see.”

“So you think they’ll sally from Talabot, thinking you’re making your move on Valemonde?”

“Yes. And when they do, I want you to come in from behind and hit them. Valemonde’s forces will be dug in, waiting, giving me time to turn around, putting Talabot’s forces between us. Once defeated, Talabot will be all but open, letting us march into it mostly unopposed.”

Pembroke did not look convinced. “It’s bold, I give you that.”

William could hear what the baron wasn’t saying. “I know it’s not without danger, but so is everything in war. We can’t sit idle all winter. You and I both know we will not be receiving reinforcements or supplies from my cousin. We have stores now, and Talabot is sitting on more. By spring, their men will return from the maw and they will be stronger while we will be running low on food goods and getting weaker. I do not plan on giving them that kind of opportunity.”

“Your point is well reasoned, my prince, but I am still not entirely convinced this will work. The Lynesian commanders aren’t fools. They might see through our deception.”

“If they do, then we will have lost nothing but time, and we’ll have given our men some valuable experience in winter maneuvers. Either way, it keeps us active and unpredictable.”

The older man nodded slowly, giving grudging respect. “You’ve thought this through more thoroughly than I gave you credit for, Your Highness. I apologize for underestimating you.”

William waved off the apology. “You are doing exactly what I asked you to do. I value your counsel and advice.”

“I’ll go speak to Sir Alistair now,” Pembroke said, saluting and returning indoors.

William turned back toward the city, considering. Convincing Pembroke was the easy part. Now, he had to show that he wasn’t just being aggressive but had a viable strategy.

Starhaven, Sidor

Edmund watched snow drift down outside the window, landing lazily on the balcony railing. White blanketed the city beyond it, a tranquil picture and a stark contrast to what was happening inside the palace. Behind him, Serwyn continued to pace, wearing a line in the plush rug.

With a sigh, Edmund turned back to his nephew. “I understand your frustration.”

“Frustration? Is that what you call it, Uncle? Frustration? Frustration was when you made me surrender to peasants. PEASANTS! Frustration is being forced to continually go before their damnable council of trash to bow and scrape, pretend that their opinions are worth anything at all.”

“I know, Serwyn. I do. But the situation remains delicate. We have to proceed with...”

“I swear to the ancients, if you tell me we need to be cautious I will have you thrown out a window,” Serwyn screamed, his face turning deep red. “To the depths with caution, and to you and your damned patience. For a year I have listened to your plans. Your scheming, and what has it gotten me? Nothing! Nothing but mockery and disrespect.”

The boy king resumed his agitated pacing, hands balled into fists at his sides. It had been like this every day since the peace agreement with the peasants was signed. Anything that reminded Serwyn of it sent him flying into a rage, and Edmund knew his explanations and justifications were wearing thin.