Prince Nicholas sat back in his chair, glanced at his nephew, then to Knight-Marshal William, who nodded agreement. “It’s a desperate gamble,” said William.
Patrick, who sat at the head of the council table, said, “Uncle, you’ve seen this personally. You’ve traveled to that distant land more than once.” He glanced around the room. “I’m prepared to admit that some of my reluctance comes from not having . . . firsthand experience, I should say, with these Pantathians.”
Nicholas said, “I’ve seen what they can do, Patrick, and I scarcely believe what we’re told.” He waved at a pile of papers on the table before them. Dispatches had arrived by fast courier, as a relay of ships wended their way between Krondor, the Far Coast, the Sunset Islands, and the distant continent of Novindus. The reports that had arrived the morning before had been sent from Novindus less than a month after Greylock and Luis had departed. And the news was not good.
Duke James, who sat beside Knight-Marshal William, said, “We know that our guesses were overly optimistic. Destroying the shipyards at Maharta and the City of the Serpent River didn’t buy us as many years as we thought.”
“Ten years,” said Calis. “I remember thinking it would take them ten years to rebuild and refit and launch a fleet big enough to carry that host across the ocean.”
Patrick said, “What do you judge now, Captain?”
Calis sighed, the first outward display of emotion any in the room had seen from him since his return from Stardock. “Four more, ‘maybe five.”
Nicholas said, “We didn’t count on an enemy who was willing to turn every resource at hand to rebuilding those yards and starting that fleet.”
“We didn’t count on an enemy who doesn’t care if her population dies to the last man,” said William. He pushed himself away from the table and stood, as if he, too, could no longer sit still. “We’re preparing to defend, and we’re making it obvious enough the Pantathians may think we’re done taking the fight across the ocean to them.”
He came to stand next to Calis. “But we have one advantage they are unaware of; they don’t know we know where their home is.”
Calis smiled a half-smile, lacking any humor. “I don’t think they care.” He moved past William and stood opposite Nicholas, but addressed his remarks to Prince Patrick. “Highness, I am not certain this mission will win us anything.”
Patrick asked, “You think this wins us nothing?”
William said, “Our presumption is they will not expect this, slipping in behind them and destroying their nest.”
Calis held up a finger, like a schoolmaster, “That’s the word: presumption.” He turned to look at William. “Everything we have ever seen from these creatures tells us they think like no others. They die as willingly as they kill, if we slaughter them to the last child when they’re seizing the Lifestone, they will not care. They believe they will return as demigods in the service of their ‘Lady,’ and death holds no fear for them.”
Turning back toward Patrick, he said, “I will go, Patrick. I will go and kill for you and, if I must, die. But even if I get in and get back out, those left alive, will come after us. I think we will never understand these creatures.”
“Do you have a better idea?” asked Nicholas.
William put his hand on Calis’s shoulder. “Old friend, our only other choice is to wait. If they come anyway, what have we lost by undertaking this raid?”
Calis’s voice was neutral. “Just the lives of more good men.”
William said, “It’s what soldiers do, Captain.”
“It doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he answered.
Despite the differences in rank, the two men were old friends and William showed no irritation at his friend’s tone or lack of deference. In this private council rank was put aside, and everyone had proven his worth to the Crown and his reliability many times before. Despite his youth, barely twenty-five years of age, Patrick had served three years on the northern border, fighting goblins and dark elves. Calis was roughly the same age as William, though William looked to be in his late fifties while Calis looked barely older than Prince Patrick.
“What if it doesn’t work?” asked Calis.
It was James who answered. “Then it doesn’t work.”
Calis studied the old man and laughed ruefully. Glancing at his old friend, he said, “I remember when you used to ask questions like that, Nicky.”
Nicholas said, “None of us is as young as he once was, Calis.”
Patrick said, “When will you go?”
Calis said, “We’re still months away from being ready. I’ve got only four men I can count on besides those of us here in this room: De Loungville, Greylock, Erik, and Jadow. All have seen what’s down there and know the risks. There are a couple of other veterans from the last two campaigns, but those four are leaders, though Erik and Jadow don’t know it yet. But the rest are men who just follow orders. Fine for soldiers, not enough for leaders.”