Page 92 of The Cradle of Ice
The party settled around the table, including Makar’s three Chaaen. When it came to strategy, no man was above another. All counsel was valued and welcome. Though, the final decision was ultimately made by the emperor. His father hung his heavy cloak across the back of the tallest chair, lightening his load to accept the burden to come, and sat down.
Makar waved for Jubayr to take the seat next to him. “My son, I’m sorry you must come here while still stained from your prior duty. But matters are changing swiftly.”
“I’m yours to command, Father.”
Makar patted his hand, then motioned to the wide table. Spread across its surface were thousands of small gold ships and tiny silver squares of horsemen and warriors. They were positioned where each of the imperial force was garrisoned or moored.
The emperor nodded to a tall, stern figure. “Wing Draer, what is the latest message from the north?”
Jubayr squinted as Draer stood and picked up a long wooden stick. The Wing used it to point to a collection of warships and other flotillas that had shifted to the northern border two nights ago, guarding over the ruins of Ekau Watch and patrolling the coastline. Draer shifted two of the largest warships out to sea, stopping halfway to the arc of stylized curls that represented the Breath of the Urth.
“The Hawk’s Talon and the Falcon’s Wing should enter the Breath shortly after dawn and reach the southern coast of Hálendii by the first bell of Eventoll.”
Jubayr stiffened and glanced at his father. “We’re moving against the kingdom? Already? We’ve barely ascertained what truly transpired two nights ago.”
“We’ve determined enough.” Fire returned to his father’s eyes. A fist formed on the table. “That bastard Prince Kanthe fooled us all. We believed his claims of being exiled by false accusations. A deception supported by our Eye of the Hidden, who had verified the prince’s assertions, convincing us of their veracity.”
Jubayr tightened his jaw. He had executed the spymaster earlier in the morning for that exact failure.
Makar continued, “We now know Kanthe must have been working in tandem with his twin brother, Prince Mikaen, who led the attack on Ekau Watch. The bombing was not—as we first surmised—an explosive warning to return the traitor prince to Azantiia, but an elaborate ruse. A distraction for Kanthe to make his move upon us.” Makar glared around the table. “Those two dogs made fools of us. Grabbed my youngest son and my only daughter.”
Jubayr heard the catch in his father’s throat at the mention of Aalia. He found his own hands forming fists.
Makar’s voice grew louder. “We’ve scoured the northern lands and coastlines and failed to spot them. No doubt they’ve secured the swiftest ship and are already on their way to Azantiia. For any hope of securing their release, our response must be rapid and forceful.” He slammed a fist on the table. “Before any lasting harm is committed against Rami and Aalia.”
Jubayr stared down at the two ships. “The Hawk’s Talon and the Falcon’s Wing are captained by Paktan and Mareesh.”
They were Jubayr’s two younger brothers. All three of them were only a year apart in age.
Makar nodded. “It was King Toranth’s two sons who fooled us. It will be my two sons who will exact our punishment.”
Jubayr found this fitting, except for one detail. “I should be there, too, Father.”
After the death of their mother, Jubayr had practically raised Rami. He had also doted upon and cherished his youngest sister as much as his father did. Their loss cut him deeply. He could barely dwell on it without despairing. He had to shy from his own heart, or the grief threatened to immobilize him.
Makar shook his head. “Mareesh and Paktan have trained all their lives to be my sword in the clouds. You’re needed here, my son.”
Jubayr frowned, but he had to acknowledge that his two younger brothers had indeed become valiant wingmen. It was their role in the empire, how they served their father.
Jubayr leaned back, accepting this course.
What else can we do?
Unfortunately, his father did have another recourse. “We’ve been duped and blinded throughout all of this. It is time to further open our eyes. So, to better grasp and understand what’s to come, I will leave with the first dawn bell for Qazen, to consult with the Augury.”
Jubayr choked down a gasp, beginning to understand why he had been summoned while still soaked in blood.
“For too long,” Makar continued, “I’ve neglected the Augury’s counsel and see what that inattention has wrought us.”
Jubayr turned to his father, voicing what needed to be spoken, knowing no other would challenge him. “You’re leaving now?” He waved to the map. “While we assault Hálendii?”
“It must be done without delay.”
A meek voice rose from one of his Chaaen. “Your Majesty, might it not be best to bring the Augury to Kysalimri, rather than traveling to him?”
“No. The Augury must inhale of the fumes of Malgard to properly invoke his visions. Now is not the time for half measures. Not with the drums of war sounding louder with every passing day.”
Jubayr knew there was no dissuading the emperor from this course. Makar leaned heavily on the wisdom and visions of the Augury, even during times of peace. With war on the horizon, his father would crawl on his hands and knees to gain that counsel.
