“Unchallenged, they will surely reach this city,” he said. “This castle.”
“Yes, and we must defend both at all costs.” I turned my attention back to Oona. “I want more men moved to the outposts along the shoreline. Find out what they need in terms of additional weaponry, and see to it they get it. Assume a prolonged siege.”
“And if the arriving Darkwinter troops are as fortified as their ships?” another general asked.
“We will face them nevertheless.”
“The Fog of a Thousand Knives, sir,” Oona said. “The shoreline outposts are closed until it lifts—two to three more weeks at least.”
A chill crept into the room.
The Fog of a Thousand Knives descended upon the shoreline twice annually, lasting anywhere from four to six weeks. No one knew what caused it exactly, or how long it’d been haunting the north. No one who’d been caught in the mist had ever survived to tell the tale; anyone trapped in its white claws was immediately liquified. By the time the Fog receded, the beach would be stained with the blood of its victims.
My composure finally unraveled. “Do any of my commanding officers have a damned bit ofgoodnews to report? Have we managed to reclaim any territory from Darkwinter? Made any new gains in the east?”
Silence.
All eyes were downcast, save for Oona’s.
There was a reason she was my most trusted advisor—one that had nothing to do with blood ties.
“See to it our additional troops are prepared to move north as soon as the Fog allows,” I commanded. “In the meantime, send reserves to the Road of Silence. I want a full assessment of the situation as well as ongoing reports on Darkwinter’s movements. Every time one of those bastards so much as shits in the Haunted Wood, I want to know about it.”
“Yes sir,” came the chorus of replies.
“We’ll reconvene in three nights’ time,” I said. “Dismissed.”
As one, the council rose from the table and saluted, fists pressed together over their hearts.
I gestured for Oona to remain.
“What of our prisoner?” I asked when we were finally alone. Other than two very handsomely paid dungeon guards, Oona was the only one I trusted with knowledge of his existence.
But even she didn’t know his true identity.
“Weaker by the night, sir.”
I nodded, twisting the ring on my finger. Through the magick that bound me to him, I could feel his body failing, his soul aching for release. But if that happened before my armies reclaimed full control of the realm…
No. I wouldn’t even allow for the possibility. Mine was a planyearsin the making. Executing it had required exceptional vision, strategy, precision, and commitment.
I’d come too far to surrender now.
“See to it that his health is stabilized,” I said. “Ask the guards to relocate him if you must.”
“Relocate him?”
“The dampness and mold are likely impacting his lungs. Move him to the second level, and increase his food and water rations as well. I want him alive and healthy, but not strong. Not clear-headed. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What news of the Hollow?” I asked. “Have the peasants decided to revolt yet?” At this, I allowed a small smile, which Oona returned.
“Not yet, sir, though we’re seeing increased signs. Dwindling access to food and water is causing unrest. Petty squabbles are turning more violent. Drugs and weapons seizures are on the rise from sources we’ve not sanctioned for the trade.” She sighed. “If I may speak plainly, sir?”
“Please.”
“It’s been three years since the last Feast of Midnight. Perhaps it’s time to host another? Give the people something to celebrate?”
