II
Darmés’s Workroom at Listelein Castle in the Imperial Capital of Olsted
“—as I imagine, they are frantically debating over in Stonia as we speak. Of course no matter what they try, they’ll have no choice but to invade the Holy Land of Mekia, in the end.”
Reclining on a sofa in the center of the room, Darmés raised a cup of black tea to his lips. Five months or so had passed since the battle at Fort Astora. At Darmés’s summons, Felix had returned to the capital with his aide Teresa in tow.
“You’re certain that the surprise attack on Fort Astora was orchestrated by the Mekian army?”
“I will not say it absolutely, but yes. For my part, I am fairly certain.”
Felix listened, deftly adding sugar cubes to his tea. Darmés watched this with great interest, though when Felix reached his seventh cube the chancellor’s expression grew severe.
Felix had heard that, based on the information he had provided, Darmés had assigned the shimmers to gather intelligence. Their inquiry had turned up the Holy Land of Mekia, where they revered the Goddess Strecia. Famed as the holy land within whose borders stood the Artemiana Cathedral, Felix thought of the nation as a silent observer in this war that it had made no move to join, and thus he was more than a little surprised by Darmés’s announcement.
And will the Principality of Stonia really be so compliant? he wondered. If all went as Darmés predicted, the Stonians would see through the empire’s motives and still go ahead with the war with Mekia. If they were prepared to go that far, Felix saw no reason not to anticipate that they might take a gamble on betraying the empire instead. Even if I knew certain death awaited me, I would still choose to die with my head held high, Felix thought. When he conveyed such thoughts to Darmés, the other man laughed, a dark and unsettling cackle that echoed about the room. Felix frowned and Darmés inclined his head deeply to him.
“My sincere apologies. Your fears are understandable, Felix, but I think it most likely they will agree.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“Because Prince Sylvester, the ruler of Stonia, is the very picture of mediocrity. Merely seeing through our plans will not give him the strength of spirit he needs to defy us. If you want proof, look at how he capitulated to the imperial army without a fight. If you look at it that way, the Swaran Kingdom was far superior.”
Darmés rang the bell on the table before him and moments later a servant came in with fresh tea. Felix watched them, his heart full of pity for the Principality of Stonia.
Stonia’s decision to avoid war with the empire and become its vassal state had likely been an astute political move, but as a result, its army was as yet unscathed, and this, in an ironic twist, was what had drawn Darmés’s attention to the country now.
The news of the Helios Knights’ defeat following that of the Crimson Knights could well be appealing enough to inspire troublesome notions amongst the empire’s various vassal states. Felix’s reading of the situation was that Darmés had chosen Stonia to make a preemptive example. I wonder if Stonia really has a hope of defeating Mekia, he thought. He took a slow sip of his gently steaming tea, thinking back on the documents he’d read.
The Principality of Stonia had sixty thousand soldiers. The Holy Land of Mekia had somewhere between forty and fifty thousand. Stonia undeniably had the advantage. But war was not so straightforward that its outcome could be decided by numbers alone. There was the soldiers’ morale and training, and the commander’s ability to look at the battlefield and deduce the optimal tactic. Furthermore, there were external factors like terrain, and weather. All of these elements came together in a complex knot. If Felix had to choose one element amongst all of them that had the strongest influence on the course of battle, he would, without hesitation, say morale.
Taking the field of battle only under duress, morale would be in critically short supply in the Stonian army. What was more, for all that it had been a surprise attack, the Mekians had proved themselves beyond question when they dominated the Crimson Knights with fewer than half the soldiers.
“Who do you think will win, Lord Chancellor?” he asked.
“I’m afraid I cannot answer that. Or more to the point, it doesn’t concern me either way. Yes, this will whittle down Stonia’s forces, but my primary goal here is to take measure of the Holy Land of Mekia. The fools have shown the empire their teeth.”
Felix was thoroughly taken aback. He had an inkling of Darmés’s nature, and he was not a man who usually favored roundabout approaches like taking measure of his foes.
“This is uncharacteristically cautious of you, Lord Chancellor,” he said. Darmés’s face darkened.
“Perhaps so,” the chancellor replied at length. “Felix, from what I read in your report, there can be no question that the Mekian army has mages on active duty. On top of that, they say Mekia enjoys an intimate acquaintance with the Illuminatus Church, and their pack of fanatics, the Knights of the Sanctuary, are not to be ignored.”
“The Knights of the Sanctuary...” Though these holy knights supposedly existed to defend the faithful, it was well known that their history was drenched in the blood of the heretics they had exterminated. To some extent, Darmés’s caution was not unjustified.
“The Knights of the Sanctuary aren’t the only issue. When I consider the million, perhaps even two million faithful, I think it prudent for the empire to avoid open conflict at this juncture.”
Even in Olsted, there were multiple Illuminatus congregations. Put in extreme terms, they were essentially harboring a potential enemy in their midst. Felix for his part saw no reason to go out of his way to object to Darmés’s proposed course.
“I comprehend your reasoning, Lord Chancellor.”
“I am glad to hear it. If any of them, the faithful or the knights, look like they will pose an impediment to the empire down the line, we will, of course, swiftly move to remove them,” Darmés said lightly.
He makes it sound so easy, Felix thought, but at the same time he felt a kind of conviction that it wouldn’t be beyond Darmés.
“In that case,” Felix said, sitting up straight as he broached the main point of their meeting, “what would you have me do, my lord?” Even Darmés wouldn’t have called Felix back to the capital just for what they’d discussed so far.
Darmés gave him a supremely self-satisfied smile and nodded. “Quick on the uptake, as usual. What I want, Felix, is for you to accompany the Stonian Army as a military advisor.”
“As an advisor...?”
“Indeed. I wish for you to closely observe how the Mekians fight, and ascertain whether they could pose a threat to the empire in the future. In particular, I wish for you to keep an eye on what their mages do. Having said that,” he amended, “I would put it at even odds whether they deploy mages against Stonia.”
“I expect they will,” Felix said slowly, remembering his encounter with Amelia Stolast. Darmés looked at him questioningly. He was probably waiting for some indication of acceptance, as a matter of protocol. “Understood, my lord. I am honored to accept the role of military advisor,” Felix said. “And what of the Death God Olivia? She is surely another matter. We must deal with her with the utmost haste.”
Darmés’s withered hands froze midway through reaching for his teacup. Felix looked up at him doubtfully and his gaze found Darmés looking back at him in puzzlement.
“Death God Olivia?” the chancellor repeated.
“Yes, Death God Olivia.”
“Ahh,” Darmés said at last. “You mean the girl with the ebony blade.” He paused, his mouth twisting. “A death god is a being that holds absolute power over death,” he explained. “I find it quite absurd to bestow the name on one as insignificant as her.” He sounded for all the world like he spoke from acquaintance with a real death god.
“Be that as it may, that girl has had a hand in all our recent defeats. As I said, we need to deal with her, and quickly.”
“You may forget the girl for the time being,” Darmés said.
Felix couldn’t believe his ears. Forget her? He couldn’t fathom how the chancellor could propose something so ludicrous. “But my lord—” he began, determined not to let the matter go.
Darmés only raised a hand to silence him, rising slowly from the sofa. “For now, I am counting on you as military advisor. I’m afraid I have somewhere to be now. You must excuse me.”
Darmés occupied himself with brushing the creases out of his robe, leaving absolutely no room for further discussion on the matter. Felix felt an indistinct sense of unease at his disinterest in Olivia. He was sure that if Gladden and Rosenmarie were here, they would share his feelings, at the very least. Not that it’s my place to say, but the lord chancellor isn’t taking this nearly seriously enough. It’s not like we don’t know what’s happening... Ought I petition the emperor directly? No, that would be a wasted effort. He doesn’t respond to anyone but the lord chancellor as of late...
Knowing even as he said it that he struggled in vain, Felix urged Darmés to carefully consider the matter. Clearly finding him tiresome, the chancellor only said, “I will attend to it in due course.” His eyes were fixed on the great bookcase of ebony wood.
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