“If the elven army was to attack us from our southern gate, how best would they get here?”
“They can’t,” the scout said. “The only bridges across the Bernum River gorge were in Colnora and they have been destroyed.”
“What if they went around Colnora? What if they crossed the Bernum south of there?”
“The river south of Colnora is wide and deep. There’s no ford or bridge except those in Colnora, which aren’t there anymore.”
Modina drummed her fingers on the desk, staring at the map.
“What is it, Your Eminence?” Nimbus asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But we’re missing something. It’s not the cold slowing down their advance. Maybe they want us to think it is, but I’m certain they’re circling around us. I think they will attack from the southeast.”
“But that’s not possible,” the scout said.
“These are elves. Do we really know what is possible for them? If they were able to get across, what would that do?”
“That would depend on where they crossed. It could wind up dividing us from Breckton’s forces in the east, or they could walk in unopposed from the south.”
“Your Eminence, I know every inch of the Bernum. I used to float goods down it from Colnora to Vernes with my brother as boys. We worked it year-round. There is no place to cross. It is as wide and deep as a lake and has a deadly current. Even in summer, without a boat, a man can’t get across. In winter it would be suicide.”
The decision was too important to base on the nightmare of a child even though her heart told her she was right. Her eyes fell on the little copper pin in the shape of a torch on Tope Entwistle’s chest. “Tell me,” she said. “What is that you are wearing on your breast?”
He glanced down and smiled self-consciously. “Sir Breckton awarded that to me for successfully lighting the fire signaling the elves’ move across the Galewyr.”
“So you actually saw the elven army?”
“Yes, Your Eminence.”
“Tell me, then, what color are the uniforms of the elves?”
He looked surprised at the question and then replied, “Blue and gold.”
“Thank you, you can leave. Go back to sleep. Get some rest.”
The scout nodded, bowed, and left the office.
“What are you thinking, Your Eminence?” the chancellor asked.
“I want word sent to Colnora to recall Breckton and his troops,” she said. “We aren’t going to survive, Nimbus. Even after everything we’ve done. They are going to break through our defenses, throw down our walls, and burst into this palace.”
Nimbus said nothing. He remained straight and calm.
“You knew that already, didn’t you?”
“I harbor few illusions, Your Eminence.”
“I won’t let my family be slaughtered—not again.”
“There is still hope,” he told her. “You have seen to that. All we can do is wait.”
“And pray.”
“If you feel that will help.”
“You don’t believe in the gods, Nimbus?”
He smiled wryly. “Oh, I most certainly believe in them, Your Eminence. I just don’t think they believe in me.”
CHAPTER 15
PERCEPLIQUIS
The Harbinger limped to shore without much dignity. Wyatt managed to create a small sail from what remained, and hoisted it to a pole he lashed to the stump of the old mast. They no longer flew across the waves; they barely drifted, but it was enough to make the far shore. Farther down the shore Royce spotted what looked to be a dock, which they avoided, and instead they anchored in at a sheltered cove. Here the beach was only a small spit of land surrounded by large blocks of broken stone, each one half the height of a man. They lay tumbled and scattered like the toys of some giant toddler after a tantrum. The stones glistened from the sea spray, and those closest to the water wore glowing beards of what looked like long stringy moss.
“What bothers me is the lack of gulls,” Wyatt said, tying off the bowline to a rock that rose out of the sand like a colossal finger. “Only a godforsaken beach is without seagulls.”
“Really?” Hadrian asked. “The gulls? I would have figured the glowing green water would have you more concerned.”
“There’s that too.”