Reliable royal ally Michel Botetort stood as well. “I beg you, Arschel, let’s defer this.”
“I agree,” General Karn said. “I’ve not yet had the chance to brief His Majesty on . . . recent developments.”
“Then by all means, Karn, let us brief him now,” Matelon said. He scanned the room. “I believe we have a quorum.”
“Perhaps the ladies should leave the room,” the king said, eyes glittering, his hand on his sword, “so that we can speak plainly.”
“Perhaps they should,” Matelon said.
The women rose in a rustle of silk and brocade and left the room. All except the queen. “I will stay and hear what you have to say, Lord Matelon,” she said simply.
Matelon shrugged. “If you like, Your Majesty.” He turned to the boy. “My son Robert is a corporal stationed at Delphi. He has a report to offer. Corporal?”
Robert was so nervous that the paper in his hand was shaking. “D-Delphi has fallen, Your Majesty.”
Delphi! Ash struggled to maintain his street face while he scanned the room for reactions. If he was any judge, Marin Karn, the king, and Botetort, at least, already knew.
The king waved an impatient hand. “Rumors are always flying about this or that disaster. I have heard a rumor about Delphi, and we are in the process of investigating.”
“It is more than a rumor, Your Majesty,” Lord Matelon said. “Go on, Corporal.”
Robert stood ramrod-straight. “I spent the Solstice holiday at temple church, on leave from my posting at Delphi. While I was there, we received a message from my brother—from Captain Matelon’s headquarters north of the city. Shall I read it?”
“Go ahead, Son,” Matelon said, resting his hand on the boy’s shoulder.
Robert cleared his throat and read. “‘A miners’ riot has turned into a full-blown rebellion, supplemented with what appear to be Fellsian Highlanders from the north. The rebels now control the mines, the heights, and the town, and our headquarters is under attack.’” Robert swallowed hard. “‘As it is unlikely that reinforcements from temple church can arrive in such time and in such numbers as to change the outcome, I recommend against risking more troops until a sufficient force can be deployed to assure a decisive victory. Captain Halston Matelon, Commander, His Majesty’s Army, Delphi.’”
The entire room had gone silent with shock.
General Karn spoke. “It sounds to me like Captain Matelon is making excuses for his poor performance.”
Blotches of color blossomed on Lord Matelon’s cheeks. “Explain, General,” he said.
“First off, everybody knows that the northerners never poke a toe south of the Spirit Mountains,” General Karn said. “Even if they decided to change their tactics, only a fool would attempt to bring a force through the Spirit Mountains at this time of year. The passes have been closed for a month.”
“Perhaps,” Matelon said, biting off each word, “the witch queen has decided to spend the winter in the south this year. Perhaps her mages melted all the snow with sorcery. All I know is that, from the beginning of this damnable war, every assurance we have received, every prediction that has been made, every report that victory is at hand has been wrong.”
Montaigne directed his response to the entire room. “As many of you know, Lord Matelon’s support for the war and his loyalty to our person have been lukewarm for some time. Which leads me to wonder—could this be part of a larger conspiracy? Multiple assassination attempts here in the capital, while Matelon’s son betrays us to the rebels in the north.”
Why is it, Your Majesty, that when things go wrong, it’s always somebody else’s fault? Ash thought.
“Your Majesty,” Matelon said. “I have provided unflagging support through twenty-five years of war. No one has contributed more troops or treasure to this effort. People are suffering and starving throughout the empire. Now, it appears, I have sacrificed my eldest son. And for what? Control of a small realm infested with sorcerers and savages whose major exports are things we do not need. Enough is enough. I am done.”
“Are you saying that you will not submit to the command of your sovereign, anointed by God?”
“I am saying that I am tired, and I want to go home and mourn with my lady wife, and see to my estates, which are sorely in need of attention.” The thane inclined his head, then turned and strode toward the door, attended by his men-at-arms and his son.
“Go home if you like,” Montaigne said, “but your lady wife is not there.”
Matelon froze mid-stride, then turned to face the king. “Explain yourself,” he said.
Montaigne spoke to the entire hall. “In view of events in Delphi, I have taken the precaution of sequestering the families of my Thane Council members in keeps far from the northern border. That way none of you will have worries about their safety, and all of you will be able to focus on winning this war.”