Primate Melovar Aspen.
Miro looked from one man to the other. "The High Lords are the cause. They are trapped, promised eternal life and then twisted by the addiction of the substance the Primate gives them. They cannot escape the cycle. The Primate is their only source of the stuff."
"Yes, yes. But practically speaking, from a military sense, we have four houses allied against us. The Halrana High Lord is obsessed with taking back Ralanast. But to be honest, we won’t hold Halaran itself for more than a month."
Miro was shocked to hear the leaders talking in this way.
"The enemy soldiers though," Miro said, "some of them are just following orders. If they knew…"
"Yes, we’ve thought of that. But we don’t know how far it spreads, how deep the taint runs. Does it run to the lords? The officers? We know enough now that we can protect ourselves from the templars. But to eradicate this poison from the other houses could be a task that is simply beyond us."
"What are we planning to do, then?"
"Prince Leopold and High Lord Legasa have ordered a full-frontal assault on Ralanast. They want to take back the city and push the enemy out of Halaran."
"But… But that’s suicide! The Veznans will start pushing from the north any moment. The Black Army in the east grows larger every day. If they push us from this position any force attacking Ralanast will be cut off from the Ring Forts. It would be a massacre. We would lose our entire force."
Blademaster Rogan sighed, "You always had an excellent grasp of tactics, Miro."
Miro could see the defeat in the Blademaster’s eyes. He remembered how relentless Rogan had been in the Pens. The training had honed him like a fine weapon, both his body and his mind. Yet it seemed the man had given up.
"Miro," Marshal Sloan said. He looked equally tired, his skin grey with fatigue. "You were at Seranthia when we discovered that the Halrana Lexicon had been stolen. We’re hiding it from the men, but many of the constructs’ runes have completely faded. Half of the ironmen, a third of the woodmen, even many of the golems and the colossi — are now useless. Barring some miracle, the Halrana will cease to be effective as a force in another week. For the Halrana, it’s now or never."
Miro put his every being into the conviction in his voice, "I understand that, I really do. But please, don’t throw away Altura’s best as well. Our runes are still bright and our armies are still strong. If you attack Ralanast now, you’ll weaken our flank. If we hold the flank, our chances are next to nothing. If we don’t, there is no chance at all."
Marshal Sloan looked at Miro intently. "That’s where you come in."
Miro looked from one man to the other. "I don’t understand."
"Miro, I’ve seen the way you handle yourself. You’re a good leader, the men trust you. I’m offering you a position in the army."
"In the army?"
Blademaster Rogan spoke, "It wouldn’t be the first time a bladesinger has become a leader of men. We are free agents, Miro. Perhaps it is your destiny. It will mean following orders though. Just because you’re a bladesinger doesn’t mean you don’t have to listen to a man who outranks you."
"Your name stands among the men, Miro; you have earned their respect in your own right. When we tell them who your father was they will only love you more."
"My father? I know he fought in the Rebellion, but why would the men remember him?"
"Miro," said Rogan. "It’s not for me to tell you the full story, or to tell you why the truth was hidden from you, but your father wasn’t an anonymous soldier, as I know you believe."
"What are you saying?"
"Do you know the name Serosa the Dark, Miro?"
"Of course I do. He was the Alturan High Lord, during the Rebellion. They say he was a warmonger."
"I know they say that — it’s a distortion of the truth put out by Tessolar, the man who replaced Serosa. I remember him, Miro," said Blademaster Rogan. "He was a good man, a strong leader."
"I remember him too, Miro," said Marshal Sloan. "His full name was Serosa Torresante. He was your father, Miro."
Miro looked from one man to the next, "How is that possible? I was told my father was killed in the Rebellion, and that my mother died of grief. Is it all a lie?"
"It’s not a lie, Miro, but the full story is not mine to tell. The men, they will follow you. They remember the name Torresante. They remember who stood there on the walls of Sark and defied the legion all those years ago."
Miro could still remember the taunts of the Pens; taunts about his heritage. He was pensive for a long moment. The Blademaster’s revelation had opened up more questions than answers.
"I want you to tell me…"