Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [198]
"And what of the people of the city?" asked the king.
"Mabel has revolted so many times before that they have it down to an art form," said the duke bitterly. "The merchant livestock and caravans have been pulled north, and the paddocks are empty. Gondegal will likely have mages in the outbuildings, or missile-armed troops. Most of the townspeople have emptied their basements and are willing to wait out the duration there. The temples have been stockpiling food and water for a long time, it seems, and triple guards stand over all the wells."
One of the mercenary captains, a rough barbarian from the lands north of Phlan, broke in with a snarl.
"Bah! Then let us burn this ready fortress to the ground and slaughter all within its walls. Let their pyre be a warning to others who might think to thwart your king's will!"
A silence descended on the table as if a lid had banged closed. Vangerdahast broke away from the throne and drifted down along the table until he stood next to the barbarian captain. The mercenary looked to other faces for support but found none. All he saw was shock and indignation.
Vangerdahast put a heavy hand on the barbarian's shoulder. "The reason," he said, pressing down with a grip like the tightening gauntlet of an armored giant, "is that the folk in that city are Cormyreans, regardless of who leads them. They will be treated as loyal citizens of the realm until such time as they choose to actually raise arms against the Purple Dragon."
"But if they are in rebellion, haven't they…?" asked the mercenary wincing, his words cut short by the increasing pressure on his shoulder.
"They are our people," said the wizard through clenched teeth. "Half the army would desert if they had to fight their own brothers and cousins. We will treat them accordingly."
He released the mercenary captain, who exhaled and rubbed his shoulder. The mage had more power in his hands than mere wizardry.
"As has been said, Mabel rebels with astounding regularity," said the king softly. "Yet it has always returned to the shelter of the Purple Dragon's wings. One thing the long history of this land has taught my family is that creating grudges only perpetuates our difficulties."
He met the eyes of the mercenary captain and added, "Let me remind everyone present that this attack is no excuse for pillaging and looting. No one is to set any fires except by order. If the person fleeing from your sword is a civilian, he is a target you will not strike at, molest, or maim 'accidentally.' I'll consider that clearly understood by all of you, see that your men also clearly understand the punishment they'll face if they forget such things."
One of the militia leaders piped up. "Can't we convince just one of these loyal Arabellans to open the gates for us?"
The king shook his head. "They are cowed by Gondegal's swords and his popularity. Once battle is joined and we rout a few of his stalwart swords, the populace will rise on our side, but for the moment, all of them are lying low. The folk here are fickle, but dependably so."
One of the wizards asked, "What about the noble houses? Have they thrown in with Gondegal?"
Bhereu spoke up in reply. "A few of the minor houses have, the Immerdusks and Indesms being the most prominent. The Marliirs, the largest Arabellan house, have remained loyal. Most who bear that proud name are under house arrest now, keeping a few of Gondegal's troops busy guarding prisoners rather than manning the walls."
"Most of what we know about what's going inside has come from the Marliirs," added Thomdor. "Magical reconnaissance has been largely ineffective."
"On that note," said the king, "this is the battle plan for the morrow."
Vangerdahast nodded and waved his hands. A series of purplish blocks appeared on the table, outside the walls of the model city. As the wizard spoke, the blocks moved toward the walls.