Nights of Villjamur - Mark Charan Newton [106]
Your servant, and in the name of Bohr and Astrid, and of the Jamur Empire and Council.
Lutto Fendor, Portreeve of Villiren, on the island of Y’iren
Brynd glanced twice over the parchment, noticing it possessed the mark of Jorsalir, a discreet symbol of the moons in each corner, behind the star of the Empire. That meant it was official all right, blessed by the priest, but Brynd tended to ignore those kinds of blessings. He grunted. So Fat Lutto actually does his job, for once. He handed it back to Urtica. “Yes, this is bad news all right. You wish me to assemble what exactly?”
“I think at least a few units of Dragoons, plus a cultist from the Order of the Dawnir should suffice. And the rest of your Night Guard, of course. But I’m not sure we can spare much more than that just yet if we’re to organize a proper defense against the Varltung nation. Remember, they won their freedom six hundred years back, they’ve defeated the Empire’s forces once. And they’ve enough population to furnish a few hundred thousand fighting men if they can unite all their tribes. I would like to make them … submit before the Freeze becomes too severe. So I’m leaving this matter in your capable hands.” Urtica was silent for a moment as he contemplated some of the maps lying in front of him.
“You don’t think this is a more important issue than the Varltung operation?”
“You know very well what Lutto’s like. He can be … inaccurate in what he says. He’s fat, he’s lazy, he’s a gambler, and a criminal.”
“But he’s in charge of an entire city and he’s panicking,” Brynd said.
“In charge because he rigs the voting. Anyway, I think that given the information so far, the greatest issue lies on the eastern fronts. Should you need more men, you can send for reinforcements. Oh, incidentally, that Dawnir friend of yours has been grumbling about wanting to go with you.”
“Jurro?” Brynd said, puzzled. “Why does he need to come anyway?”
“Why not take him with you? The activity might finally jog his blasted memory, and then we can get some useful information out of him. I mean what’s the use of an Ancient if he doesn’t have memory? I don’t want him just rotting away reading books for another several generations and only have the benefit of his misery to put up with. Take him with you, let him see a bit more of the world. Before the ice sets in.”
Brynd considered just how exactly he could take one of the Ancient race on a scouting mission, traveling through towns where he’d undoubtedly be mobbed by villagers who would see him as some kind of oracle, some savior to them in the ice age. That was the exact reason he’d been hidden for so long.
“What of the firegrain?” Brynd said. “Have the remaining stocks of grain and oil been calculated?”
“Of course,” Urtica said. “Anyway, there’s wood remaining on Jokull, and plenty on the other islands. That’s what the military will use for their warmth. That’s what other cities are relying on. Emperor Johynn was just mad sending you out there in the first place. Now, shall we thrash out some details about the current crises facing the Empire? I believe our two fine minds should deliver some decent logistical analysis, what d’you say?”
“Yes.” Times were awkward all right. He would prefer to be in control of the raids on Varltung, or else remain here to stand by the new Empress, but this threat, on one of the fringes of the Empire, appeared urgent, and what the hell could be causing it anyway?
“Why all this effort to subdue Varltung now? This Freeze could last thirty-odd years, and much of the Empire will be changed as we know it. Hell, there may be no Empire left when we come out of hibernation.”
As Urtica met his gaze, it seemed a gust of wind came in from somewhere, flickering shadows adopting new postures across the old walls. “Commander