More news had trickled into the capital in the weeks since Janus’ announcement, and none of it was good. Janus had ridden south, to where part of the Grand Army had been left to guard the frontier. The divisions there had all declared for him immediately, without more than token resistance on the part of loyal officers. Reports had also confirmed that an unknown number of Murnskai troops marched with Janus, apparently under his command. All in all, it meant that the would-be emperor had collected an army at the northern frontier that was at least equal to the loyal Grand Army in size, if not larger.
Marcus had not been idle, of course. Garrisons, frontier posts, and training camps had been stripped to bring the divisions camped north of Vordan City up to strength, though the process was far from complete and many of the new recruits were raw. Other units were on their way, summoned from as far afield as the eastern border, but they would take weeks to arrive. The city was restive, with pro-?Janus demonstrations almost every day, and the Armsmen had been worn ragged preventing riots. This can’t go on. There would have to be a clash, sooner rather than later. And God help us if we don’t come out on top.
The Ministry of War was one of the big stone buildings that stood along the grand drive leading up to the front gates of the palace. Standing in front of it, Raesinia could look over her shoulder and see the ruined shell of the Cobweb, former headquarters of Duke Orlanko’s Ministry of Information. Hopefully, the sight will remind d’Andorre what can happen to ministers who get too big for their boots.
Smartly uniformed guards escorted Raesinia, her two attending soldiers, and Eric into the building and up to the top floor. The minister’s vast office faced a huge picture window, looking out across the palace grounds. D’Andorre had already settled himself behind the leather-?topped desk, but he had the decency to rise at his queen’s approach. Raesinia waved for him to sit, though she herself remained standing; if she’d sunk into one of the heavy armchairs, her head would barely have shown over the edge of the desk, and she didn’t want him literally looking down on her.
“Minister d’Andorre,” she said. “That is correct, yes? I only just received the news of your appointment.”
“It is,” d’Andorre said. “My colleagues in the Deputies voted yesterday evening.”
“Do you know if they’ve come to a decision on my request to appoint a supreme commander?”
“They have.” D’Andorre steepled his fingers. “I’m afraid they have rejected it, Your Highness.”
“They must see that we have to do something.”
“That is clear to everyone,” d’Andorre said. “The Deputies-?General is only concerned that, in our haste, we will repeat the mistakes of the past. The creation of the post of First Consul was, after all, one of the primary reasons for our current difficulties.”
Raesinia gritted her teeth, but she couldn’t really deny that. “Then who will command?”
“The Deputies have appointed a military committee, chaired by myself, to oversee the army.”
“So instead of repeating the mistakes of the Consulate, you want to repeat the mistakes of the Directory?”
“There’s no danger of that, Your Highness. Strict safeguards have been put in place, I assure you.” He spread his hands. “I am merely a representative of my colleagues, not a power unto myself.”
“In that case, you, or the committee, or the entire Deputies, need to get moving. Janus is accumulating supporters by the day, and every hour we sit here doing nothing makes us look weak. We have to act.”
“I understand that, Your Highness.”
“Then give Marcus the order to march!”
“Ah.” D’Andorre gave a tired smile. “I wondered when we’d come to that.”
*
“They’re making a mistake,” Marcus said.
Raesinia sat in his tent, in the uncomfortable camp-?chair, staring across the big table at him. Between them was a large-?scale map of Vordan, with stacks of paperwork pushed to the side.
“Look,” he said. “Janus is coming south. He needs to take Vordan City, obviously. He could push southeast, here”—?he stabbed a finger at the map as though it had offended him—“through the passes at the head of the Vor. That’s the most direct route, but it’s rough country, with a lot of fortified towns and little rivers to hide behind. It’d be very hard to bring an unwilling opponent to battle.
“Instead, he’s pushing southwest, down the valley of the Pale.” This time he tapped the map more thoughtfully. “Open country, fewer rivers. Good terrain for a field battle, where Janus excels. He wants us to go after him. He needs a quick decision.”
“We need a quick decision,” Raesinia said. “If we let him do as he likes, anyone on the fence is going to want to join the winning side. We need to confront him.”
“Not if it means playing directly into his hands.”
“Janus isn’t divine, Marcus,” Raesinia said gently. “Not everything we do is part of his plans.”
“I don’t know if I’d bet on God Almighty against Janus bet Vhalnich,” Marcus said grimly. “I’m telling you that if I take the army to the Pale, I can’t guarantee—”
“They don’t want you in command,” Raesinia said. “That’s what I came here to tell you.”
There was a long pause. Marcus looked down at the map for a moment, then over at the papers, as though seeking inspiration.
“I’m sorry,” Raesinia said. “I tried to get d’Andorre to reconsider. But as far as the Deputies is concerned, handing the army that’s going to fight Janus over to his closest subordinate is too dangerous, no matter how loyal you claim to be. Even with the queen vouching for you, apparently.”
“So who are they putting in charge?” Marcus said. “One of the other division commanders?”
Raesinia shook her head. “They’ve summoned General Thomas Kurot from the southern coast. Apparently, he served well against some holdouts during the revolution and basically sat out the war against the Directory. He’s supposed to be some kind of prodigy, and he’s never even met Janus.”
“That’s...” Marcus suddenly looked very tired. “That’s going to be a disaster. Sending some back-?ranker who’s hardly tasted gunsmoke up against Janus bet Vhalnich? We might as well pack it in.”
“That’s why I need you to go with him,” Raesinia said.
“I thought you said the Deputies didn’t want me along.”
“They don’t want you in command. I was able to persuade d’Andorre that it would be foolish not to use you in some capacity, though even that wasn’t easy.” Raesinia grinned. “I may have implied that the troops might mutiny if they tried to march without you.”
Marcus snorted. “I think you overestimate my popularity.” The brief moment of humor faded and died as he considered the situation for a moment longer. “So where do they want me?”
“Commanding the Second. It seemed like a neat solution. They need a general who understands their... unique circumstances.”
“And that’s supposed to be me?” Marcus shook his head. “I should refuse.”
“I don’t think you can refuse an order from the Minister of War.”
“I can resign,” Marcus said, jaw set. “God knows that would be a relief.”
“D’Andorre might call that treason.”
“Then he’s welcome to court-?martial me,” Marcus said, voice rising. “After everything I’ve done—”