Page 84 of The Queens and the Kings
“We’ll consider what you just said,” Henrik said to buy Einar a moment to recover, “but it doesn’t change what we know for certain on the island itself, which is definitely more than you.”
Nils nodded. “I agree. We need an insider's knowledge on the city layout and schematics, including where to find His Glory.”
“You don’t find His Glory,” Einar cut in. “His Glory is ours. You can help us get to the island, but we,” he jerked a thumb between them, “get His Glory.”
“I don’t agree.”
“Those are our terms.”
Einar and Nils stared hard. Both resembled bottled lightning, spiked with bristling intensity, until Nils said, “I will listen to your plan for removing His Glory, but will abide by no commitment yet. In the end, we want him gone and someone amenable to our terms put into place, if it’s not too late.”
If it’s not too late.
Britt had helped them tentatively link damma to the wyverns, but the mainland’s requirement for damma still didn’t make sense. Nils and the Ladylord shared a high motivation to figure this damma problem out, which steepened the cost on their side.
Nils cranked a thumb behind him. “Shall we discuss what you know, and what I know, so that we might plan together? As long as our objectives are met, I’m content we’ll come to an agreement. I have time right now, if you’re amenable, and to spare you another trip from your ship.”
“Now is fine,” Einar said.
Henrik agreed.
Nils swept his hand toward the two chairs. “Have a seat. Carina will bring refreshments, and we can get into nitty-gritty planning for our takedown of His Glory. I look forward to hearing your ideas.”
“Where’s the ship?” Einar growled.
They stood at the edge of the dock, staring at sparkling waters. The sun lowered toward a bank of clouds stretching all the way from north to west. Lighting cracked the western bulwark, visible in tiny flashes.
“No idea, but that storm wasn’t there earlier,” Henrik said.
“No, it wasn’t.”
“I guess we'll wait here until Pedr returns?”
Einar plucked a rock off of a nearby post and flung it into the water. It skipped across the top, plunging into a wash of waves.
“Unless you want to row into the bay and wait there during the storm?” he suggested.
Henrik’s nose wrinkled. Too many fools had ships and didn’t pay attention. Waiting in the bay, in a rowboat, asked for problems. Not to mention the incoming storm. The waves would swamp their little rowboat, and then they’d really be in trouble.
“I’ll pass.”
“I liked Nils,” Einar said, lounging back. “He’s to the point, and his military strategy is solid. He’s made more assumptions than I’d be comfortable acting on, but he didn’t balk when we made changes.” After a pause, he added, “Sometimes, you have to act on assumption.”
Did Einar speak about General Nils, or himself?
“I hate not having a plan,” Henrik muttered.
“Me, too. But we have one. It’ll be fine.”
The meeting with Nils alone had gone better than expected, mostly because it was short, succinct, particularly compared to the milling crowd before. Henrik admired Nils. Nils didn’t care about their ideas as much as he cared about the mission, which was ideal for the mainland’s military leader.
Realizing that Einar wanted a deeper reply, Henrik said, “Nils was fine.”
“His plan was more sound than I expected.”
“It had holes.”
Einar snorted, chucking another rock into the froth. “One can hardly blame them for holes. It’s a mainland strategy. Overwhelming an island like Stenberg with numbers and sheer force is a privilege that comes from a bigger navy.”
