For a moment, no one spoke. Courtly manner dictated that the King be allowed several moments to add to his own statements before anyone might interrupt his Highness’s thoughts.
“I agree,” Lord Greenwich, the King’s Investigator finally said. “Why give us a hundred reasons for vengeance and retaliation, and then just up and march away?”
“Not to mention the fact that Westland has got to be nearly defenseless,” said General Coron. “Twenty thousand men have marched across that bridge, maybe more. Who’s guarding the henhouse while the young rooster is out strutting?”
The General spoke in a way that made it clear that he didn’t really believe what he had suggested a moment ago. “They have to hold that bridge no matter what happens here. If we break the siege, we’ll be able to march right into Westland.”
“Oh, we’ll break the siege, General,” King Jarrek said, with confidence. He turned to Lord Greenwich. “How many men did you estimate Glendar had left in our city?”
“At best, twenty four hundred, a few hundred more on or around the bridge, maybe.”
“We have as many, if not more, men inside the walls with us!” Marshall Culvert blurted out, his overly optimistic enthusiasm showing again.
His city guard had been routed in the streets. He was as bitter as he was embarrassed by the fact. Those men had not been trained to handle a full scale attack on the city. They were there to protect the people from each other, not from an invading army. That was the job of General Coron’s men, most of whom had been too busy dealing with the myriad problems associated with Summer’s Day to muster a defense. Marshall Culvert didn’t blame the General. His men had put up so little resistance, that they may as well have not been there. They mostly died in vain. He manfully accepted his share of the blame. He took no comfort in the truth, and he lustfully wanted to break the siege. He wanted to take back some of the pride that had been stripped from him.
“I’ve got three hundred men up at High Crossing, maybe a few more.” General Coron offered. “They retreated into the lower Evermore, on the Leif Greyn side when the Westlanders turned north. If we can get word to them, they should be able to at least break through the encampment where the fargin Lion’s men went into the mountains.”
“I can help you there, your majesty.”
Targon, who had been listening intently, finally spoke. His voice was deep, and radiated a sort of confidence that was greatly needed among them.
“Not only with getting orders to those men.” Smoothing his robes, he stood and faced the window, where the other wizard was brooding. “I can help protect them when they sack the encampment, and with the help of my colleague, Keedle, we can communicate, and make sure that the arrival of those men here is timely to your cause.”
“Yes,” the General nodded, and mumbled under his breath as the plan formed in his head. The idea that it was put there by the Witch Queen’s Wizard was lost on him.
The King was about to ask the General to share his thoughts, when Keedle spun and strode towards the table. The look on his face demanded that he be heard next. King Jarrek gave him a nod and steepled his fingers, intent to listen to his trusted old wizard’s words.
“When you send your men storming out the gates, General, I’ll make them appear to be twice as many as they really are.” Keedle’s anger made his word sharp and cold. “If King Jarrek will allow it, I’ll take the outer wall, so I can be over them, and wreak as much havoc as I can manage. I’ll draw the attention to me. With Targon coming with those other men to catch them from behind, and my surprises, we should be able to break the siege, and take our city back with minimal losses. At worst, we could run the cavalry right over that pavilion tent, and crush the young Westland dog in his sleep.”
“Now you’re the one being optimistic,” said General Coron.
Though he would love nothing more than to flatten the cocky young bastard just as Keedle had suggested, the fact remained that they didn’t hold the outer wall anymore. A charge out of the secondary gates would allow the Westland King enough warning to be long gone by the time they got there. He shook his head side to side.
“I have no doubt you’ll be able to do as you say, but we can’t run all of our men out of the secondary gates, Master Keedle. It will take at least half of them to hold the castle, if something should go wrong. Even fifteen hundred wolves would have a hard time taking on all those fargin Westlanders. It’s almost two to one.”
Keedle’s brows narrowed, as he realized the truth of the General’s words. Even with two wizard’s working together, two to one odds would be hard to overcome in open battle.
“We mustn’t forget about Pael,” Targon said in his deep voice. “The Westland wizard is no mere conjurer.”