Page 24 of Among the Burning Flowers
Nobody dared to breathe. Bartian glanced away from the king, towards Marosa.
‘Fýredel,’ Marosa said.
The profane name was like poison on her lips. A shiver passed through the whole chamber.
‘All that time,’ the Duke of Aperio said. ‘All that time, he was slumbering upon our doorstep?’
‘He was never slain,’ the Counsellor of War pointed out. ‘The Spindles hide many caves, few of which have been explored.’
‘Are we certain the Gulthaganian mines do not hold any wyverns or Draconic creatures?’ Marosa asked him. ‘Are more about to burst up from beneath our feet?’
‘Not in my opinion, Your Radiance. King Alarico sealed the mines well. There is no way in or out.’
‘Then we cannot move our subjects down there to protect them, as was done in the Grief?’
‘No.’
Marosa glanced at her father. He remained at the head of the table, unmoving.
‘Can Yscalin withstand another Grief?’ she asked the nobles. ‘Are we ready for this fight?’
She found that it was easy to speak before a crowd, even with her father watching. All she had wanted, for nine long years, was to be able to address her future advisors without restraint.
‘We Northerners certainly are,’ one of the tall Hróthi ambassadors said, eyeing her. ‘I trust you Yscals have prepared.’
‘His Majesty has taken all reasonable precautions, as did his ancestors,’ Lord Gastaldo said. Even in this calamity, he was finely dressed, down to his livery collar and lace cuffs. ‘We have invested in many siege engines and weapons since the Grief.’
‘The wyverns burned the artillery,’ Marosa said. ‘I saw it.’
‘Cárscaro is well placed to repel an attack from the Great Yscali Plain, but not from winged enemies, coming from so close,’ the Counsellor of War said. ‘They may have been observing our defences for some time.’
‘We should never have stayed here. It was foolish and arrogant,’ Marosa said, the words spilling out before she could stop them. ‘Aunt Erica was right to leave.’
‘Be silent, Marosa,’ King Sigoso said. ‘You know nothing of this matter.’
Some of the counsellors averted their eyes. Once Marosa might have quailed, but now she returned his icy gaze.
‘Here is our situation,’ the Counsellor of War said, breaking the silence. ‘All of the artillery has been destroyed, and there are clearly too many wyverns to be felled by bows and rifles.’ He paced as he spoke. ‘Until the Great Yscali Plain stops burning, there is no way out of the city, nor for our allies to reach us. Cárscaro commands an unparalleled view of its surroundings; now that very advantage will be turned against us. Even if we called for aid, the wyverns would kill any soldiers that answered.’
King Sigoso ground his jaw. His eyes were circled by shadow, and a vein ran like a river from his hairline to the side of his nose. Marosa found his silence more chilling than his words.
‘What do you propose?’ she asked the Counsellor of War, daring to speak up again. ‘Is there any precedent from the Grief?’
‘The wyrms burned cities without remorse or warning, but there were times when they withheld the killing blow.’
‘Indeed,’ the Principal Sanctarian said. ‘This summons puts me in mind of the last great Inysh battle against Fýredel, when he laid siege to Hollow Crag. He demanded that Glorian Shieldheart emerge to face him. It was only the arrival of the Saint’s Comet that saved her life.’
Marosa could not stand to look at the man, with his green robes and placid face, his cheeks hollowed by fasting. Though generosity was one of the virtues he preached, he had not shown mercy when asked to decide whether Queen Sahar would be allowed to enter Halgalant. Instead, he had formally relinquished her seat there, leaving her to wander for eternity.
‘When will it come next?’ she asked the Council Chamber. ‘Does anyone know?’
‘No one knows for certain, Your Radiance. Many comets were observed in antiquity,’ Sir Robrecht Teldan said. ‘But as far as the astronomers of Mentendon know, no comet will be seen in our skies for at least four years. Our Seiikinese trading partners say the same.’
‘Do not speak of the heretic Easterners,’ the Principal Sanctarian said coldly. ‘The Saint was the one who sent the comet, to save his beloved descendant. He will do the same for Yscalin.’
Sir Robrecht looked away, his jaw clenching beneath his silver beard.
‘High Westernscanbe slain. We know this,’ Marosa said, her conviction rising. ‘Dedalugun was felled in Lasia, and Taugran in Seiiki. We may not know how it was done, but—’
