Nights of Villjamur - Mark Charan Newton [112]
Urtica pressed on. “A price was offered to find her murderer, wasn’t it? Forgive me, but this was quite some time ago. I’m sure the matter was thoroughly investigated.”
“The Inquisition found only more paperwork, chancellor.”
“It must have been a difficult time for everyone.”
“That was probably the year that father began to find it difficult to trust people, preferring his own company for great lengths of time. I remember that servants would take bottle after bottle of wine to him. As the months went by he was less fussy as to the quality, just that it was still coming. I suspect that was the start of his deterioration.”
“Perhaps,” Urtica agreed. “The mind does suffer greatly under the stresses experienced in office. But I hope you will trust people in Villjamur a little more than he did.” A smile. “Things are very different these days.”
A quarter of an hour later the chancellor sent a request for a garuda soldier. While he waited, Urtica began writing down a list of orders. Eventually one of the city’s bird-soldiers entered the chamber. Urtica examined the creature, its white visage startling, even in the dreary light of the room.
You requested to see one of us? the flight lieutenant signed.
Urtica tried to remember the appropriate words and the symbols, what the hand shapes meant, unused to having to read them himself. He was no mere soldier after all. “Yes, take this order to the military garrison at Ule, Folke.” The chancellor handed the garuda a document. “Show it to every captain you see. Should my note be destroyed en route, memorize these words: ‘At the command of Empress Jamur Rika and the Council of Villjamur, you are commanded to organize a front line facing across the northern and easternmost shores immediately adjacent to Varltung. A total of two thousand troops must be placed in key positions ready to receive longships that will set sail from all the military bases on Jokull. Mission summary: ensure total submission of the Varltung race with as few prisoners as possible.’”
The garuda made a harsh squawking sound in his throat. Sir, is this correct? You wish all of them to be killed?
“Who are you to question my orders?” Urtica could see the frustration evident on the bird’s face. “You’ve been bred specifically for military use, so don’t let emotions get in the way. Anyway, we cannot afford to look after prisoners during such times as these.”
So be it, the garuda signed, then gripped the scroll in his humanlike hands.
Urtica eyed the tiny feathers that grew on the creature’s arms, then looked him straight in the eye. “Did you memorize those instructions?”
The garuda signed. They are not easily forgettable, sir.
“Good.” Urtica sat down on the chair before the maps and regarded the garuda casually. “I’ll send follow-up instructions, but the scroll you possess contains details of troop allocations and movements, and none of this is up for discussion. Every captain will understand and act accordingly. Now, go.” He waved him away with the back of his hand. The flight lieutenant twisted sharply, generating an unnatural breeze somehow with his body shape, then left the room.
Moments later, Urtica stepped over to a tapestry on the wall, peeled it back. A view of the city was unveiled, and he watched the garuda flying off across the spires and bridges, gliding out toward the east.
Urtica brooded on the predicament. He could tell no one of his negligible manipulations, of course—people just did not like to see the bigger picture. Because of the evidence provided by hired tribal thugs at Dalúk Point, this Empire had now been offered an excuse to expand. The loss of a few Night Guard soldiers proved only that they weren’t as wondrous as they liked to think they were, the posturing idiots. The Empire now had an opportunity to take more resources, more wood and food and ore, in defiance of the Freeze. They could claim another nation in the east, and this ancient Jamur Empire would become even more glorious.
That was the bigger picture.
CHAPTER 25