The chatter in the chamber was cut short as the general in question entered, and on his arm was the Queen. Odelia seated herself at the head of the long table which occupied the middle of the room and when she had done so the rest of its occupants followed suit, some of them sharing quick, sceptical glances. A woman, at a war council! A few of the more observant men there noted also the way the monarch looked at her most recently promoted general, and decided that palace gossip might be in the right of it after all.

It was General Cear-Inaf who rose to bring the council to order. The Torunnan officers sat dutifully attentive. This man shouldered the burden of the kingdom’s very survival. As importantly, he could make or break the career of any one of them.

“You all know me, or know of me,” Corfe said. “I served under Mogen at Aekir, and fled my post when the city fell. I served at Ormann Dyke also—as did Andruw and Ranafast here. I commanded the forces which fought at the North More, and led the withdrawal after the King’s Battle. Fate has seen fit to make me your commanding officer, and therefore whatever your personal feelings you will obey my orders as though they were the word of God. That is how an army operates. I will always be open to suggestions and ideas from any one of you, and you may ask to see me in person at any time of the day or night. But my word in any military matter is final. Her Majesty has flattered me with her confidence in the running of this war, and I am to have an entirely free hand. But there will be no more arguments about seniority or precedence in the officer class. Promotion will from now on be won through merit alone, not through family connections or length of service. Are there any questions?”

No-one spoke. They had expected as much. A peasant who had risen through the ranks could hardly be expected to respect the values of tradition or social rank.

“Very good. Now, I have received in the last hour a message from Admiral Berza and the fleet, conveyed by dispatch-galley. He informs me that he has located and destroyed two of the Merduk supply dumps on the shores of the Kardian Sea—”

A buzz of talk, quickly stilled as Corfe held up a hand.

“He writes that the Merduk casualties can be measured in the thousands, and he believes he has sent perhaps three or four million of rations up in smoke. However, his own casualties were heavy. Of the marine landing parties less than half survived, and he also lost two of his twenty-three great ships in the landings. At the time of writing, he has put to sea again to engage a Nalbenic fleet which is purportedly sailing north up the Kardian to secure the Merduk lines of communication. I have already sent him a set of orders which basically gives him free rein. Berza is a capable man, and understands the sea better than any of us here. The fleet will therefore not be coming back upriver to the capital for the foreseeable future.”

“But that leaves the line of the river wide open!” Colonel Rusio protested. “The Merduks will be able to cross at any spot they please and outflank us!”

“Correct. But intelligence suggests that the main Merduk field army has fallen back at least forty leagues from Torunn and is busy repairing the Western Road as far east as Aekir itself in order to maintain an alternative line of communication free from the depredations of our ships. I believe the enemy is too busy at present to launch another assault. Andruw—if you please.”

Corfe took his seat and Andruw rose in his turn. He looked a trifle nervous as the eyes of the High Command swivelled upon him, and cleared his throat whilst consulting a sheaf of papers in his hand.

“The main army has withdrawn, yes, but our scouting parties have reported that the Merduks are sending flying columns of a thousand or so up into the north-west, towards the Torrin Gap. They are obviously a reconnaissance-in-force, feeling out a way through the gap to the Torian Plains beyond. Already people fleeing these raids have made their way across the Searil and some have even come as far south as Torunn itself. The Merduk columns are sacking what towns and villages they find as they go and we have unconfirmed reports that they are constructing a fortress or a series of fortresses up there, to use as stageing posts for—for further advances. There may in fact be an entire Merduk army already operating in the north.” Andruw sat down, obviously relieved to have got it out without a stumble.

“Bastards,” someone murmured.

“Well, there is obviously nothing we can do about that at the present,” Colonel Rusio said impatiently. “We have to concentrate our efforts here in the capital. The army needs to be reorganised and refitted before it will be ready for further operations.”

“Agreed,” Corfe said. “But we cannot afford to take too long to do it. What we lack in numbers we must make up in audacity. I do not propose to sit tamely in Torunn whilst the Merduks ravage our country at will. They must be made to pay for every foot of Torunnan ground they try to occupy.”

“Hear, hear,” one of the younger officers said, and subsided quickly when his seniors turned cold eyes upon him.

“So,” Corfe said heavily, “what I propose is that we send north a flying column of our own. My command suffered less severely than the main body of the army in the recent battle, plus I have just received an influx of new recruits. I intend to take it and clear northern Torunna of at least some of these raiders, then sweep back down towards the capital. It will be an intelligence-gathering operation as much as anything else. We need hard information on the enemy strength and dispositions in the north-west. Thus far we have been relying too heavily on the tales of refugees and couriers.”

“I hope, General, that you are not impugning the professionalism of my officers,” Count Fournier, head of Torunnan Military Intelligence, snapped.

“Not at all, Count. But they cannot work miracles, and besides, I still need most of them where they are—keeping an eye on the Merduk main body. A larger scale of operation is needed to clean up the north-west. My command will be able to brush aside most resistance up there and reassure the remaining population that we have not abandoned them. That has to be worth doing.”

“A bold plan,” Colonel Rusio drawled. “When do you intend to move, General? And who will be left in command here in the capital?”

“I shall ride out within the week. And you, Colonel, will be left in charge while I am away. The Queen has graciously approved my recommendation that you be promoted to general.” Here, Corfe took up a sealed scroll which had been lying unobtrusively before him, and tossed it to the new general in question.

“Congratulations, Rusio.”

Rusio’s face was a picture of astonishment. “I have no words to express—that is to say… Your Majesty, you have my undying gratitude.”

“Do not thank us,” Odelia said crisply. “General Cear-Inaf has stated that you merit such a promotion and so we approved it. Make sure you fulfil our faith in you, General.”

“Majesty, I–I will do all in my power to do so.” Up and down the table, older officers such as Willem watched the exchange with narrowed eyes, and while several officers leaned over in their seats to shake Rusio’s hand, others merely looked thoughtful.

“Your job, Rusio,” Corfe went on, “is to get the main body of the army back in fighting trim. I expect to be away a month or so. By the time I get back I want it ready to march forth again.”

Rusio merely nodded. He was clutching his commission as though he were afraid it might suddenly be wrenched away from him. His lifetime’s ambition realised in a moment. The prospect seemed to have left him dazed.

“A month is not long to march an army up to the Thurians and back again, General,” Count Fournier said. “It must be all of fifty leagues each way.”