The Death of Chaos

5.Death of Chaos

 

 

 

 

 

XCVII

 

 

Worrak, Hydlen [Candar]

 

 

 

“You SUMMONED ME?” The thin officer in tan steps into the room. His holster is empty. Behind him the two guards stand outside the open door. One holds the officer's sidearm.

 

“I did, Force Leader Speyra.” Dyrsse gestures to the table in the middle of the spacious room, and to the map upon it. “Please sit.”

 

The door closes with a dull thud.

 

Speyra purses his lips and sits on the edge of the seat of the carved chair. Behind him, the hillside villa's window frames the placid harbor waters-and the battered breakwater and the pile of stone that had been a fortress. Black-hulled ships brood over the harbor, some with thin plumes of smoke trailing from their stacks.

 

“You see here-the Fakla River?” The marshal traces the line of the river west from Worrak.

 

“Yes, ser.” Speyra nods and straightens in the chair.

 

“You will be taking the second army up this road, through the vale, here, and into Kyphros. Take the road north from Lythga and then west into Kyphrien.”

 

“All the way to Kyphrien?”

 

“All the way. Do what is necessary. The Emperor and I have absolute confidence in you, Leader Speyra.”

 

“You're not coming?” asks the officer.

 

“You are perfectly capable, Force Leader Speyra, and you will be provided more than enough cartridges and even some mobile field pieces.” The marshal smiles. “Someone has to watch for another strike from the nest of vipers. And coordinate your support.”

 

“No one has yet taken Kyphros.”

 

“Fenardre the Great did, and so will we. For the Emperor. The most force the autarch can muster is less than eight thousand outliers, levies, and her Finest.” Dyrsse wipes his balding head with the fine white cotton handkerchief.

 

“I believe it only took one wizard and a handful of troops to block the Easthorn road.”

 

“We lost less than a third of our troops in that effort. We also enlisted the help of another wizard and cleared the old highway into Certis. That gives us a more direct way to move troops at least as far as the Easthorns.” Dyrsse smiles again, briefly, and studies the map on the table before him.

 

“Ser... have we not lost a number of commanders... and the wizard?” The force leader purses his lips and shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

 

“We have. Good commanders, and two regents. And if they were willing to risk their lives for the Emperor, then... can we do no less?”

 

“Yes, ser. I mean, we can do no less.”

 

“Good. You will have four thousand troops. You will see less than a tenth of that, even if you march all the way to Kyphrien. The autarch's forces are all in Ruzor. Kyphrien is your destination. You will have more than enough force to accomplish your mission.”

 

“Yes, ser. Then what?”

 

“The usual. You hold the city for the Emperor and follow the established practices. In the meantime, the fleet will be reducing Ruzor, and then attacking up the Phroan River. Because Ruzor is where most of the autarch's troops are, you will see few, indeed.”

 

“And if I do?” A faint sheen of perspiration coats the force leader's forehead. “If I do?”

 

“You won't. But if you need reinforcements, you shall have them. Don't worry about that in the slightest.” Dyrsse smiles.

 

 

 

 

 

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