When they arrived back at the carriage, Gwendolyn called to her sister, who came meekly from the wagon and walked behind her sister’s horse. They rode to the tent, which had been lavishly furnished during their absence from the camp. Food was being roasted nearby and the aroma was delicious.
“I want you to join us just before the King arrives,” Gwendolyn said to Wilam. “We shall be making our plans, and I want you to lead the army. I trust that is a task you can manage, or do I need to find someone else who can fulfill my needs?”
“No, I shall not disappoint you, my Queen,” Prince Wilam said.
“Good. Make sure you are not late.”
Then she slid off her horse and walked briskly into the tent, followed by her sister. Wilam spun his horse and set about ensuring that their camp was efficiently managed. He made sure that the men camped downwind of Gwendolyn and warned the men not to do anything to embarrass the Queen. He washed the grime of the road off his face and hands and made sure his clothes were neat and his weapons accessible before returning to Gwendolyn’s tent. She told him to wait on the party from the Ortis army, and, when they arrived, he escorted King Oveer and five of his generals into Gwendolyn’s tent. She had wine and cheese waiting for the men. Once everyone had a goblet, Gwendolyn sat down on a throne-like chair and waited while the men found places on benches around her.
“Now,” she said. “I want a large army. How many soldiers do you have, King Oveer?”
“More than two full legions here at Blue Harbor,” the King said. His lust was so profound he was almost drooling. He sat leaning toward Gwendolyn, and it took all of Wilam’s self control not to draw his weapon and attack the arrogant ruler.
“Two legions?” Gwendolyn said, frowning. “That isn’t enough. Can’t you get more? Surely you have more troops than that.”
“I’ll send riders north to rally our reserves guarding the border and the Wilderlands. It will take a few weeks, but we can gather another three legions.”
Wilam saw the nervous looks the generals gave each other as they listened to their king. He was obviously overestimating his forces. Wilam didn’t mind; in fact, he saw the King’s exaggeration as a point in his favor. If Oveer couldn’t keep his word, then Gwendolyn would find out how untrustworthy he really was. In contrast, Wilam would seem all the more honorable, and, he hoped, attractive.
“Good, but that still isn’t enough,” Gwendolyn said. “I want you to send your troops to Luxing City. We shall meet there after gathering troops from Falxis, and then march south to the Torr.”
“That is fine, my lady, but I’m afraid you won’t find many troops in Falxis. King Belphan and King Zorlan are sailing to invade Yelsia as we speak. I doubt there are many troops left in reserve.”
Prince Wilam’s chest tightened at hearing this news. His devotion was to Gwendolyn alone, but he couldn’t help but feel worried about hearing of an invasion in Yelsia, even if he couldn’t say exactly why it had him worried.
“Why are they invading Yelsia?” Gwendolyn asked.
“The wizard Offendorl insists that it must be done. He fashioned his plans with King Belphan to invade Yelsia. He thinks there is a wizard there, being harbored by King Felix. He sailed north with the armies to make sure he gains control of the wizard.”
“The master is not in the Torr?” Gwendolyn said to herself. Her face had gone pale and Wilam waved for her servant to refill her wine goblet.
Gwendolyn took a long drink and then stood up.
“Did you hear that, Mina?” she said to her sister, turning her back on the men in the tent.
Andomina was sitting in a camp chair, twirling the ends of her hair around and around. She made no sign that she heard her sister at all.
“The master has left the Torr at last,” Gwendolyn said. “This is better than we had hoped.”
She spun around and looked at Wilam.
“We ride immediately,” she told him. Leave a few people here to gather what we can’t move immediately.” Then she turned to King Oveer. “I want all your troops, every last one, to march south to the Grand City. We shall take the tower and gather all our forces there. When the master returns, he will find that his house is no longer his own.”
Chapter 23
“These guerrilla tactics pose no serious threat to our efforts,” Offendorl said.
“I did not say they were a serious threat,” King Belphan said defensively. “I said they were worrisome. We still have heard no news of the attack from the eastern front. I did not come to this backwards kingdom to fight an all-out war. You said we would overwhelm them.”
“And we shall,” said Offendorl. “I admit that you are right, we should have heard of our forces invading from the east. Perhaps we underestimated King Ricard’s ties to Yelsia. But our plans have not changed. We shall lay siege to Orrock.”
“What about the dragon?” said Zorlan.
“I’ll worry about the dragon,” Offendorl said in a snarl. “You are both beginning to sound like nagging old women. Act like men. We are here, and in any battle there will be things that do not go as planned. We must see things through. You act as if you want to run back to your kingdoms. What message would that send to Yelsia? They have broken three centuries of peace by harboring a wizard. What will they do next, I wonder, when they see you running home with your tail between your legs like a whipped dog?”
“Do not dare to speak to us so, wizard!” said Belphan angrily. “We are kings, not your vile, tongueless servants.”
“And I am Master of the Torr,” Offendorl said in a low but deadly voice. “Do not fool yourselves. I can kill you with a thought. I can usurp your throne and make your kingdoms worship me if I so choose. Neither of you has seen war; you do not know its horrors or hardships. I have seen battles between beasts and men and wizards. I have lived in these Five Kingdoms for over three hundred years. Do not dare to question my authority on this venture, or you will find yourselves in the same position as King Felix.”
It was not the first time King Belphan and King Zorlan had complained. Offendorl had sailed to Yelsia on a separate ship from the kings so he didn’t have to listen to their constant complaints as they traveled. When they first landed in Yelsia, the excitement of war made them tolerable companions. But it hadn’t taken long for them to begin complaining. The food was not to their standards. They weren’t used to long journeys or living in tents. They were spoiled tyrants whose every whims were fulfilled in their kingdoms, but not on this campaign. So they whined like children and Offendorl grew weary of it.
“We are less than two days from Orrock,” he told them. “We shall surround the city and pillage the countryside. Your troops will have gold, women, and ale. You can spend your days drunk in your bed if you so desire, and when we are through you shall divide Yelsia’s spoils. Until then, stop complaining and find your courage.”
Offendorl stalked out of the tent. They were camped on a wide plain, south of the Tillamook River. The army had made good time moving north, despite the fact that King Felix had sent skirmishers to harass them. The small bands of soldiers were well mounted, and, because they knew the land, they could strike an ambush and then flee before a proper counterattack was mounted. The main body of their army had been harried with volleys of arrows. If a unit or group strayed far from the larger group, it was attacked by men on heavy horse. The casualties weren’t significant enough to deter them, but their inability to strike a blow wore on their morale. It became apparent very quickly that this was a deadly business, and while the soldiers endured, their kings howled about every minor assault.