Chapter 59: War Council

The room had gone very quiet..it was as if everyone was waiting for the same person to speak, and for once that person wasn’t Kren. Bernice stayed on her feet while the others settled into their seats, one hand resting on the back of a chair, her sharp eyes sweeping across the table before they finally landed on him.

Morning light spilled through the dining room’s narrow windows and cut across the map spread out in front of them, painting the ridge outside Lasthold in a stripe of gold.

"Let’s start with what we have, Your Majesty. Counting the soldiers Aki trained before you left, and the felines who have turned up from the outlying farms and fishing camps while you were away, we have a fighting force of eighty."

Kren let the number sit on his tongue, and he found it tasted exactly as bad as it sounded. Eighty, against six hundred snake kin, most of them at the Aura Awakening realm. Even for a people long used to being underestimated, that was thin.

"That’s not a lot," he said.

"No. But it may be enough, if we’re clever about it. And there are a few things worth noting." Bernice raised a finger. "Prince Selvin isn’t with his army. We’ve had eyes on that ridge since yesterday morning, and there’s been no sign of him. Their commanding officer died in the altercation, under a pile of elders with a key in his fist. Which means right now, there are six hundred snakes are sitting on a hill with no one at the top to tell them what to do."

Kren’s jaw tightened at the mention of the elders. Across the table, Raven’s gaze flicked between him and Bernice, and she narrowed her eyes, there was a bond between them she couldn’t place or understand, an ease with which Bernice spoke to Kren and hovered around him. She’d have to pay attention to that little detail.

"The felines we recovered from the front line," Bernice went on. "All two hundred and some of them. I haven’t counted them among the fighters, and I won’t. Some of them have been in chains for the entire decade. They need food, sleep, and a few days of not being afraid before I can trust any of them with a spear. Throwing them into a fight now would only hand the Ale more fodder. The same one they’d thrown at us." Bernice held Kren’s gaze as he shrugged.

"I agree." It came out rougher than Kren intended. He thought, unwillingly, of the little girl near the back of the line, of the purple haze curling off her ruined back, and forced the image down. "They rest. They’ve paid enough for one lifetime." He drew a slow breath and dragged his mind back to the table. "The supplies we brought down from the mountains. Have you taken inventory?"

"Of course." Something that was almost a smile touched Bernice’s lips, and that alone told him how good the news was. "The bows and arrows are exceptional. I’ve served in more armies than I care to count, Your Majesty, and I have never seen craftsmanship like it. The bows draw smooth as silk and hit like a kicking mule. The arrows fly truer than anything the Zar legions issue their elite. It is, without exaggeration, the finest work I’ve ever held."

Her gaze slid toward the far end of the table, where the two Storm Eagle craftsmen sat a little straighter.

"And then there are the cannons. Three Storm Aura Cannons." The mood in the room shifted, as though the temperature itself had changed. "Long barrels, etched with some rather impressive eagle motifs, fired by Aura rather than powder. The Storm Eagles don’t have the cultivation to use them. We do. We’ve already tested all three in secret, behind Lasthold, out over the sea, where no one on that ridge could see or hear. They work. And they’re ready for deployment."

Toa let out a low, impressed breath. Fima’s tail flicked once against the back of her chair, which, from her, was practically applause. That was as much approval Beneince was going to get from her.

Bernice continued speaking as she folded her hands. "Which leaves us with the question of how we fight. That decision is yours."

Kren leaned back in his seat and looked at the crude map on the table, over and over. He had ideas, half-formed ones, but only a fool ignored the woman who had taught him everything he knew about war. "What do you think?"

Bernice hadn’t needed the permission. She was already moving to the map, tapping the ridge with one slender finger.

"The Ale seem to be waiting. There are probably Reinforcements, new orders from above and in my experience, that’s probably both. The moment either arrives, whatever advantage we have vanishes. We cannot wait them out. If we don’t move first, they will, and with more numbers than we can handle."

She dragged her finger along the slope. "The cannons have a maximum range of roughly three kilometers, which puts their entire camp comfortably inside it. The problem is the hills. They’ve chosen their ground well. Every shell we fire from the walls would be wasted on dirt and rock." Her finger slid down onto the open plain below the ridge. "So the goal isn’t to pull them toward Lasthold. It’s to pull them away from the hills, out into the open, into the cannons’ maximum reach, where they have nowhere to hide."

"Which means they have to be baited," Kren said slowly. "From behind."

"A two-pronged attack. The cannons from the walls, and a strike force coming up behind them, driving them forward onto the plain." Bernice’s eyes met his. "You’ve done it before, using the river to circle around. If you’re willing, I’d suggest the same tactic. Selvin’s people will have learned from it, though. The river could be poisoned. The banks could be trapped. It’s a risk, but it’s one we have to take."

Raven’s eyes narrowed in quiet appraisal, a look Kren recognized from the way Bernice studied an opponent’s, it was eeriely similar. He suspected the woman was already running the plan through her own head, hunting for the flaw, or how she would betray them and take advantage of his predicament.

"Hold on." Aki cleared his throat, and the sound carried more weight than it should have. "With respect, Your Majesty. The cannons will hit whatever stands in front of them. If any of our people get caught out on that open ground, stranded with the snakes and our own guns, falling on them. we’d be killing them ourselves."

"I’ve accounted for that," Bernice said, without so much as turning her head.

"And if it happens?" Aki asked with a frown, as Bermice turned back and looked at him.

"Then it happens. A necessary sacrifice."

The word dropped into the room like a stone into a well. Aki flinched. Kren felt his own stomach turn over, because after yesterday, it was the last word he wanted to hear. And yet he couldn’t deny the cold arithmetic behind it. He looked at Aki, and for once, the old cat was the one who looked away.

"Which is why you’ll be leading the charge yourself," Bernice continued, her voice softening just a fraction. "After yesterday, our people are uncertain. They watched their parents and grandparents die for you. They need to see, with their own eyes, that their king would die for them too. That he’ll bleed in the mud right alongside them. I don’t recommend it. But I know you, and you would have gone anyway."

"I wasn’t going to ask permission." Kren growled.

"I know. I’m saying it now so it sounds like it was my idea." Aki smiled at Kren..Fima hid a smirk behind her hand. Toa suddenly found the map very interesting.

Aki opened his mouth to protest, and Kren turned his head and simply looked at him. The old cat closed it again, huffed through his nose, and sat back with his arms folded, muttering something about cats and rivers that no one pretended to hear.

"It’s a gambit," Bernice admitted, the amusement draining from her voice. "I won’t pretend otherwise. But it’s a necessary one. And if the ancestors are kind, we’ll kill a great many snakes while we’re at it."

Kren nodded slowly. It was risky and it was ugly, and he could already feel the weight of it settling across his shoulders like a borrowed coat. But it was also the first plan anyone had offered that gave them a real chance, and he’d long since learned that those were rare enough to grab with both hands.

Then Bernice turned, and her attention shifted to the far end of the table.

Two Storm Eagles had been sitting there perfectly straight and perfectly silent, in the manner of people who very much hoped no one would notice them. Suwem and Sunem. Twins, identical down to the pale blue-grey hair threaded through with white feathers, and the same wide, watchful eyes. Of all the Storm Eagles who had awakened after the bond, they had shown the highest talent for cultivation, and both carried a Mid Grade wind bloodline. They looked barely out of their teens, and at the moment, they looked like they’d rather be anywhere else.

"You two," Bernice said. "I need fortifications. Trenches, barricades, reinforced walls. And after that, new tools and weapons built from the knowledge you carried down the mountain. How quickly can you begin?"

Suwem and Sunem looked at each other. Something passed between them, wordless and instant, the kind of understanding only twins share. Slowly, matching smiles spread across their faces, sharp and eager and a little dangerous.

"How fast can you work?" Sunem asked.