When they were about half way to it, Pael stopped them.
“Report to Lady Trella at Lake Bottom Stronghold.”
Pael looked each of them in the eyes in turn.
“I may call upon you someday for repayment of this favor. When I do, don’t forget that I just stayed your execution.”
Seeing that they understood, he dismissed them, and turned back to Glendar’s purple gasping face.
Pael didn’t loosen his grip on Glendar’s neck.
“Are you daft?” he asked the new King of Westland. “Look outside!”
As if dragged by the hand that held his throat, Glendar stumbled forward, and peered out of the tent flaps. Of the more than twenty thousand men and horses that had been gathered there in the pre-dawn darkness, only the tail end of the last infantry division, and the supply wagons could be seen. King Glendar had been left behind. Only the riff-raff, the whores, the blade sharpeners, and the civilian scavengers hadn’t crossed out of Westland yet. King Glendar’s personal guard attachment was milling around outside the Command Pavilion, trying desperately to not look embarrassed when the stragglers jeered and pointed at them.
“I told you to lead this army,” Pael said, shaking Glendar in his magical grip forcefully. “Those boys you would have killed are on your side, you buffoon! Your blade should be out there in that city, raised against the Redwolf soldiers, not against Westland children!”
As if discarding so much trash, Pael threw his hand off to the side. Glendar’s body followed the motion perfectly, and he ended up sprawled on the trampled grass floor.
“You are nothing, KING Glendar!” Pael ranted, as he turned his back to the armed man he had just humiliated. “You’re spoiled, stupid, and have no respect for those who placed you where you are. Even your lowliest infantrymen will question your fortitude now.”
Glendar wanted so badly to charge across the pavilion and bury his sword in the wizard’s back. He wanted it more than he had wanted his father to hurry and die after Pael had poisoned him. He couldn’t bring himself to do it though. Partly because he needed the wizard: Pael had guided him from childhood, like his father should have. Pael had helped him take the throne, and Pael could crush him like a fly if he chose to. And partly because Glendar was afraid – afraid that his blade would find nothing but thin air when he struck, or that if it did sink into flesh, Pael would only laugh at him and pull it free. He was also afraid that he might actually kill the only person in the kingdom that he could depend on, or that the wizard might go away and never return.
“I thought that you…” Glendar started, but was abruptly cut off.
“You THOUGHT Glendar, that is your problem!” Pael turned to face him, his voice brimming with anger. “Someday, boy, you will be in control, and when that time comes, you will make the rules. For now, I am making them. Do not think or wonder why I tell you to do something. JUST DO IT!”
From his knees, Glendar flinched, as if a bolt of lightning might fly from the wizard’s hand. Pael sighed, then strode over and extended his hand to help Glendar to his feet. Reluctantly, Glendar took the hand and allowed Pael to pull him up.
“Have I ever lied to you son?” Pael asked, in a softer voice. “Didn’t I hand you the Westland throne on a silver platter? The whole of the eastern kingdoms will be yours as well, if you’ll just do as I say.”
Glendar still raged defiantly in the back of his mind, but he lowered his head like a scolded schoolboy.
“I will try to listen better, Pael,” he said, with a heavy exhale of breath.
“Good!” Pael clapped his hands together, and began pacing back and forth across the tent. “The rest of Lord Ellrich’s Marsh Guards, from Settsted Stronghold should be here within the hour. Have a handful of them move this pavilion into Castlemont City and erect it directly in front of King Jarrek’s palace.”
Pael looked at Glendar for a moment, and then added, “Be sure that it is out of the wall-top archers’ range.”
Pael turned, and came gliding back across the half-rolled carpet towards the king. His finger went to his smooth chin and his other hand found his elbow. Glendar could see a greenish-blue vein pulsing under the taut skin of Pael’s chalky white forehead.
“As soon as this turns into a siege, which it surely will, I want you to send Lord Brach, and all the men that can be spared, up into the Wilder Mountains.”
King Glendar started to protest, but Pael raised a hand to stop him.
“Trust me, Glendar. Lord Brach is to find, and secure, a route through the mountains that will allow us to gain a favorable position on the Valleyan city of Dreen.”
“Our plan was to march south and take as much of Dakahn as we can before winter sets in!” Glendar blurted out.