Chapter 2: Departures (Part 3)

By nothing short of a miracle, Talamioros arrived in Ylldelia before the week was over. The already-fading winter snows, though far less brutal than in the Old Kingdom, still slowed them somewhat, and it was only by sheer willpower that he managed to get his contingent within sight of Ylldelia’s citadel that quickly, almost quicker than was humanly possible. He raced up the road to the capital at quickstep pace, a thousand Foot and two hundred Horse Guards. Leaving the palace staff to billet the tired Guards where they could, Talamioros made his way to the Palace, entering the empty Great Hall at noon, striding across its length to a side door which he opened. Stepping into the anteroom behind the throne, itself almost half the size of the Great Hall itself.

There, Jodias and several of his advisors, generals and aides were bent over a table on which was spread out a map of Arboriel. They were silently conversing, making notes on pieces of parchment and constantly giving orders to the attendantes swarming around them. Planning the invasion involved a lot of work, and Talamioros felt a short irrational pang of guilt for not helping to plan for it. Upon hearing the not-too-soft creak of the door opening, all the officials stopped their work and looked up, the murmur and rustle of sound filling the room coming to a stop.

“Father. Sirs,” greeted Talamioros, stepping into the room nodding to those within it.

“You are most welcome, my son,” replied Jodias, stepping away from the table and coming up to Talamioros to embrace him. Stepping back, he looked the prince from head to toe. “You have grown much older since I saw you last. How many years has it been since I gave you governance of Myrgora? Five? Ten?”

“Ten, father. I have seen thirty-six summers, and you…you’re not so young yourself anymore.” They smiled as both considered Jodias’ greying, almost-white hair and wrinkled frame.
“Aye, you know why I called you here, of course. Tomorrow you will take command of the Guards and sail west to reinforce our forces in Arboriel. Once there, you will take command of the entire army and drive the invaders out. Some of the Guards, about a third of the number, have not yet arrived. They will sail to you when they have been assembled. But you will take what you have and go to Demula first; the situation is critical.”

Motioning the prince over to the table, Jodias pointed to a city in the middle of the Erennin lands, hugging the coast. “That is Abubey. It was stormed at the beginning of winter. The enemy is now in winter quarters there, and we have only just received the news. Lalikai here,” Jodias motioned to a man dressed in armour, fair and well-built, “comes from Arboriel, a lieutenant among the soldiers there. He will tell you what has happened.”

Lalikai saluted the prince, fist on chest. “My prince. And my commander. When I left Demula for Ylldelia, the army was preparing to march once the spring thaws came. The governor, Sarian, he planned to meet the Semiduroin in battle somewhere in this area.” His roving finger delineated a circle somewhat to the east of Abubey, between it and Maksuma. “By the time we arrive there, unless the enemy intentionally avoids him, which I think most unlikely, he will have fought the battle. He will then try to drive the army back northwards.” The finger moved past Abubey, northwest past Erennin boundaries into a land labelled Semiduros Talos. Forming the western boundary of that land, there was a thick mountain range which, to all appearances, appeared impassable except for a flat narrow plain in the north between it in the sea. Realising he was being distracted, Talamioros swept his attention back to Erennia-in-Arboriel. What he saw disconcerted him.

“And what if the army is defeated?”

“Well, I suppose it would retreat into Maksuma. The walls are thick and strong and can withstand a direct assault, I think. Sarian never made plans for a defeat.”

Only someone with his ear directly in front of Talamioros’ mouth could have heard the muttered “Fool!” Looking at the distance, if the Guards could not arrive in time to relieve Maksuma, then there would be no way for the two armies to combine, and Sarian’s troops would be either trapped in a besieged city, or stormed and slaughtered. Talamioros nodded. “You can tell me everything else on the ship. Are we all ready to leave?”

“The ships are already at Itayra, stocked and provisioned.”

“Then order the Guards to embark. We leave by this evening.”