The Serpent Bride. Sara Douglass

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СКАЧАТЬ wondered if they spent more time watching each other than eyeing Isaiah for any possible weakness.

      He distrusted the youngest of the generals, Armat, the most. Axis had heard from Isaiah earlier that Armat had only recently joined the ranks of the generals, and had the least experience of the five men. He was also, judging by the calculation in his dark eyes, the most ambitious. That ambition was combined with inexperience meant Armat was potentially the most dangerous. Where the others might hold back, Armat might well leap forward.

      It was Armat who stated what every one of the generals was thinking.

      “I thought you were dead,” he said.

      “As I was,” Axis said, knowing what Isaiah needed him to say, “until Isaiah pulled me out of my afterlife and back into this world. Your tyrant is a powerful man, gentlemen, with many hidden abilities.”

      As one, the generals all shifted their gaze to Isaiah, who shrugged as if the matter was not even worth the discussion.

      “A small trick,” Isaiah said, “taught to me by an old and wise man, many years ago.”

      Now the generals all exchanged glances between themselves, and Axis almost smiled.

      Isaiah was a good manipulator.

      “Why resurrect a dead man?” said Ezekiel. “One who has lived his life.”

      Axis repressed a grin. That last sentence of Ezekiel’s translated directly to “an old and useless legend”.

      “I felt myself in need of an impartial advisor,” Isaiah said, moving to a table where several maps and sheaves of documents were spread out. “One who could step into any of your shoes,” his eyes slipped over the five generals, “should I be so unfortunate as to lose any one of you. You are all, naturally, aware of Axis’ stunning prowess as a military commander.”

      Stars, thought Axis, now I shall have to look out for the knife in my back, as well!

      He happened to catch Ezekiel’s glance, and was surprised to see amusement dancing there. Axis instantly revised his earlier estimation of him, thinking that the man might prove a worthwhile ally one day.

      Ezekiel was true to Isaiah, and would support no rebellion against the tyrant.

      “To matters at hand,” Isaiah said, waving the generals forward to the table. “We need to discuss our preparations for invasion. Reports?”

      For the next half an hour each general gave a terse summary of the current state of readiness. At this point, approximately a year away from actual invasion, the emphasis was on gathering new recruits, training, and on stockpiling equipment and supplies.

      Axis was stunned by the size of the army that Isaiah was gathering — it would be at least half a million men, and probably much, much larger.

      “I would also like to raise the subject of resettlement at this time,” Isaiah said.

      “Resettlement?” Axis said, then apologised for his interruption.

      “Whenever a tyrant gathers to himself a new dependency,” Ezekiel said, “he ensures its ‘loyalty’ by moving into its territories large numbers of Isembaardians to settle the new lands.” He looked at Isaiah. “But this is not normally something we plan until our victory is assured.”

      “Consider my victory assured,” Isaiah snapped, “and consider it time to begin the planning for resettlement now.” He pulled a map towards him, then tapped the upper corner of it. “The north-west of the Tyranny — the FarReach and En-Dor Dependencies — are poor and their peoples struggling,” he said. “They shall be happy to remove themselves to the gentler and more fertile pastures of the Outlands or the Central Kingdoms above the FarReach Mountains.”

      The five generals just stared at him.

      “But —” Morfah began.

      “You will be responsible for their organisation, Morfah,” said Isaiah, “together with Ezekiel. Unless you both feel yourselves incapable.”

      No one said anything, but again there were hurried glances among the generals.

      “Or unless you wish me to bring someone else back from death to deal with it for you,” Isaiah said.

      “Your order,” said Ezekiel in a smooth, calm voice, “is as always my command. Let us not disturb the dead any more than we need to. Morfah and I will see to it, Excellency. At what point after the invasion do you wish the peoples of En-Dor and the FarReach Dependencies to begin the long trek north into —”

      “They shall move with the invasion,” Isaiah said. “Thus they shall need to be informed now that new lands await them and they need to begin making preparations for their journey north.”

      “With the invasion?” Lamiah said, adding almost as an afterthought, “Excellency?”

      “The Outlands and Central Kingdoms are very far away from the main bulk of the Tyranny,” said Isaiah. “They need to be settled as rapidly as possible. The peoples of the En-Dor and FarReach Dependencies shall follow directly behind the main military convoy.”

      “They are not going to be happy to be ordered from their homelands,” Morfah muttered.

      “Then your silver tongue shall be needed to persuade them,” Isaiah said. “And persuade them you will, Morfah … Ezekiel.”

      They both gave small, stiff bows of acquiescence.

      “Together with the army and the settlers,” Axis said once the five generals had left, “how many people will there be in the convoy, Isaiah?”

      “A million, maybe a little more.”

      Axis could say nothing for a moment. A million people? “The logistics …” he said.

      “Are a nightmare,” said Isaiah. “No wonder I needed you back from death to advise and aid me, eh? I cannot be everywhere at once.”

      Axis just shook his head. A million people. He couldn’t escape the feeling that Isaiah was heading directly for his second military fiasco.

      Stars alone knew what the generals were thinking.

12

       WEST OF PELEMERE, CENTRAL KINGDOMS

      They had been on the road for weeks, and Maximilian was enjoying the freedom. He appreciated the chance to catch up with old friends. He knew all the kings of the Central Kingdoms, some better than others. Malat, who ruled over Kyros, was a good friend, and his son, Borchard, an even better one. Maximilian had enjoyed his four-day stay in Kyros immensely, although the good-natured pre-nuptial ribbing of Borchard was something he was thankful to escape.

      He worried a little about leaving Escator, but that worry was mainly engendered by guilt at enjoying his freedom so greatly. The Privy Council were СКАЧАТЬ