Pyrust frowned. “You truly believe Prince Nelesquin- the Prince Nelesquin-has returned from the grave to lead this force of kwajiin?”

“I have seen him with my own eyes. I’ve spoken with him. Yes, Count Vroan, you can mock me if you wish. I shall not challenge you since this force needs your troops. But I pray Grija does not take you, because I shall demand an accounting of your affronts later.”

Vroan sneered. “Your flesh will be more easily pinked than your vanity.”

“No, that is where you confuse my motivations with your own, my lord.” Soshir gestured off to the south. “I don’t care what your opinion of me or my troops is. We’ve shed enough blood; for good or ill, your opinion is of no consequence. What makes me angry is the appalling stupidity that locks you into believing you know your enemy, your battlefield, and history well enough to decide this is the place where you will be the victor.

“You say battles on these plains have brought victories to Naleni forces, but you do not ask yourself who actually fought here. A hundred and twenty years go, I was here and fought to defend Nalenyr. Before the Cataclysm, I was here again and so was Nelesquin. We fought together here and won a great victory. I know this ground better than you, and so does he. Just as he shaped a plan to take Tsatol Deraelkun, so he has a plan for defeating an army here.”

Pyrust stroked his half hand over his chin. “What do you think it is?”

“I would be lying if I told you I knew. Come.” Soshir turned and entered the tent that served as Pyrust’s command center. He crossed to the table, where a map of Nalenyr had been laid out. He tapped a finger against their current position.

“He knows there will be a force waiting for him here. It makes sense. So, he sends a force in that will engage your troops. He can take his time coming up through the mountains because your supply lines are stretched as thin as his.”

Soshir pointed to the mountains on either side of the pass through which the Imperial Road ran. “There are other passes through the mountains. They’re small and scattered. Normally getting troops through them is ill-advised because linking back up to a larger force is difficult. Nelesquin, however, has flying creatures that can carry several men. He can use them to coordinate troop movements.”

Pyrust nodded. “You’re saying he could infiltrate units all along the border? Do you think he would use them to disrupt our supply lines?”

“I don’t know. I thought his loathing for tunnels would preclude anything like his giant moles. But perhaps he’s learned.”

“Perhaps he’s not Nelesquin.”

Soshir’s head snapped around. “If that is true, Count Vroan, we have an even bigger problem. You see, if it is Nelesquin, then we know he’s trying to consolidate the Empire. If it isn’t-if it is just someone pretending to be him, who has somehow garnered the power to create the kwajiin — then we have no clue as to his motivation. As nearly as we can tell, his troops slaughtered everything in the eastern half of Erumvirine. He has a foothold there. Could be he has colonized it and that’s where he gets new troops.”

Pyrust shook his head. “It would take fifteen years at least to raise a new crop of warriors. Twenty would be better.”

“I hope you’re right, but the fact is that we’ve no idea how many troops he’s fielded. His vhangxi are animals, but they’ve torn apart troops the equal of any we have in the field. The kwajiin are as fierce fighters as I have ever seen.” Soshir glanced at Vroan. “And you’d best not make any comments about my experience. I am jaecaiserr, and kwajiin swords have cut me more than once.”

Vroan chewed his lower lip and said nothing.

Pyrust traced a finger over the map. “If he did slip troops through the mountains, he could use them to harass our lines. Were I he, I might push a larger force through and go raiding through the western Naleni marches, into Ixun.”

“I don’t disagree, but then we know more of Naleni politics than he is likely to.” Soshir folded his arms. “I would not blame you, Count Vroan, if you returned to Ixun to safeguard your home.”

The slender man’s chin came up. “If Nalenyr falls, Ixun will go with it. The battle will be decided here.”

Soshir shook his head. “You’re still not listening to me. Nelesquin knows how to fight this ground. It may not look it to you, but this is a trap. Withdraw. Strike at his flanks. Raid his supplies. Send troops into Erumvirine.”

Pyrust listened. The urgency in Soshir’s voice underscored the wisdom of his words. They were facing a foe they did not know, who might well have superior troops-thousands of them. To take up a position and adopt a strategy in the face of so many unknowns was foolishness.

“Understand something, Master Soshir. Your assessment of the enemy may be accurate-and I base this on your experience in Erumvirine alone, not your history with Prince Nelesquin. I shall even break one of my reserves down into regiments and send them east and west to find any troops Nelesquin has sent through the mountains. That said, I feel I must make a stand here. You may be correct that Nelesquin knows this site, but we both know there is no better spot between here and Moriande to oppose an army.”

The xidantzu nodded reluctantly. “There is no arguing that point.”

“I find myself, therefore, on the horns of a dilemma. If I act on what you have told me and it turns out that you have erred on the side of caution, withdrawal could jeopardize the whole of Nalenyr. While Moriande can doubtless hold out against the army for a while, if we are bottled up there, Nelesquin could pour past, take Helosunde and Deseirion, and then return for Moriande.”

“If he shatters your force here, he’ll do that anyway.”

“Yes, but he will have fewer troops with which to do it.” Pyrust shrugged. “There is another problem, of course.”

“Which is?”

“The Empress Cyrsa has commanded me to stop Nelesquin here.”

Soshir blinked. “Then the Imperial crown on the unit banners was not to annoy Nelesquin? The Empress has returned?”

Pyrust nodded solemnly. “She has.”

Soshir looked toward the tent flap. “I saw none of the troops that have been waiting in Ixyll.”

“I don’t know if those troops are myth or not.” The Prince rubbed his half hand over his jaw. “She said nothing about them.”

The xidantzu frowned. “I had an apprentice who was traveling through Ixyll to awaken her. Did he succeed?”

Pyrust shook his head. “I do not know. The Empress had long since left her sanctuary. She’s been here for eons, waiting and watching, creating her own intelligence network. You certainly knew of her: the Lady of Jet and Jade.”

Soshir blinked with disbelief. “That cannot be.”

Vroan nodded. “I confirm it. I met her before I left Moriande. She was the Lady of Jet and Jade. My first wife was once a student of hers.”

Soshir rubbed a hand over his forehead. “How could I not have seen it? She was Paryssa.”

Vroan nodded slightly. “You called her Paryssa, after the flower?”

Soshir looked up, his expression open and unguarded. “It was after a scent she favored before she became Empress. When I later met the Lady of Jet and Jade, she burned paryssa incense. I called her that. Part of me may have remembered, but…”

The man’s reaction to the news fascinated Pyrust, primarily because it revealed an unexpected side of him. Virisken Soshir, if camp gossip was to be credited at all, had a soul of iron armored in steel, and the combat skills to keep that armor untouched.

And yet, at the mention of a woman, he has softened abruptly. Is that love? Pyrust thought fleetingly of his wife, Jasai, seeking a similar reaction. He certainly had felt something for her. Pride. Anticipation for the child she was carrying. He might have even labeled what he felt love, but it burned so much more coldly in him than it did in Soshir.