King Glendar, in a show of kindness and understanding, had very publicly granted part of her request. Zasha was allowed to return to Lake Bottom with Lady Trella, but with all the trouble brewing in the east, her father could not be spared. War was most certainly on the horizon, and the commander of the Marsh Border Garrison would be needed.
Lord Ellrich sent a small attachment of his most trusted men, to accompany the two ladies on the journey around Lion’s Lake. He did his best to hide it, but he felt fairly certain that it would be the last time he saw his daughter. He secreted a letter to her, through one of his men, for her to read when she was finally out from under Glendar’s wickedly deceitful thumb. The letter pleaded with her to find a way to dissuade King Glendar from making her his Queen, and if she couldn’t manage that, he wanted her to kill him in his sleep, for the good of the people of Westland.
“Send Lord Able all the supplies he has requested,” Pael told the men seated at his end of the long glossed oak table in the council hall. “As a matter of fact, double the quantity of the supplies he wants. After all, more men are gathering at Eastwatch as we speak. This request is a week old. The four thousand men it speaks of will be doubled by the time the wagons get there.”
For the moment, Pael was leaving the actual planning of the battle to King Glendar and Lord Brach. The two of them were at the other end of the table, hovering over a sprawl of maps and charts, conferring to themselves, and oblivious to Pael and the others. The Order Pael had just given, was written up quickly, by a thin-haired old scribe, and then it was passed to the wizard. He blobbed it with wax, and then put the King’s Seal on it, without even batting an eye at Glendar. Pael was in sole charge of the preparations, a duty he chose to perform himself, so that he wouldn’t come across any surprises when he took over the rest of the campaign.
“Lord Ellrich, it says here that you’re only able to supply your new King with two thousand men. Is that correct?” Pael asked rather loudly.
“High Wizard Pael,” Lord Ellrich started diplomatically, as he leaned back and rested his meaty arms across his huge belly. His bulk caused the chair to groan in protest. “As you know, the garrison at Settsted is our great kingdom’s only protection in the south. If men are not left there to guard the border, then the creatures of the marshes will slither right into Westland.”
Pael harrumphed loudly, and stood, making sure that the scraping of his chair legs, and the swiftness of his movement caught the attention of everyone in the room. He waited until he was sure that King Glendar was listening, and then he spoke harshly, while throwing up his arms in exasperation.
“Marsh creatures, m’lord, are you serious?”
The men sitting at Pael’s end of the table blanched, as if some wild magic was going to come flashing forth from the wizard’s hands. Lord Ellrich though, didn’t even bat an eye. He held Pael’s gaze steadily.
“We are about to wage war on the east!” Pael ranted. “They have butchered our people, innocent people, and in cold blood. One of our peers, Lord Gregory, lies dead at their hands. How many men does it take to fend off snakes and lizards?” Pael turned toward the King. “Can’t the farmers fend for themselves for a while?”
“May I?” Lord Brach asked the King respectfully.
Glendar nodded. He was interested and amused by the argument.
“How many men are left at Settsted?” Lord Brach asked.
He had been to the marshes and understood that Lord Ellrich had a valid concern here. Some of the creatures of that area were far more formidable than just snakes and lizards.
“Some two thousand men would remain,” the big lord answered.
He had never liked Lord Brach, but he could tell that the boot-licker was going to back him here. The man understood the dangers hidden within the swampy lands along Westland’s southern border.
“They are spread along the river, in the outposts from Depin all the way up to Locar. The rest are manning the garrison at Settsted that supplies the outposts.”
“We need those men, Lord Ellrich,” Brach said flatly. “Half of them anyway.” He turned to King Glendar, and spoke with just a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “A thousand soldiers should be able to keep the denizens of the swamp from taking over Westland while we are at war.”
Pael snorted contemptuously at Brach. The Lord of the North had over-stepped his bounds.