"I thank you for the promotion, Your Imperial Majesty," Agrehn, now formally Grand Marshal Agrehn, gratefully bowed in the map room of Eynond's citadel.

"It was long overdue," Rohmhelt said with a forced smile. While Agrehn had indeed served him ably, thoughts of the sheer number of defeats they suffered on their long retreat to Eynond couldn't be shaken. The Emperor had avoided reading the most recent reports detailing the defections and casualties in his army. He couldn't bear to look at them. At last count, he was down to around three hundred thousand soldiers and that didn't even include several losses they had since sustained trying to prevent Duronaht's army from sweeping wide around Eynond. "I wish it were under better circumstances."

"Quite so," Agrehn grumbled and stroked his beard. "Although, with the word we received from Bohruum, there should be a strong winter offensive in the east that will take some of the pressure off us."

"If we make it until then," Rohmhelt laughed in amused pain. "Aberos certainly has earned my gratitude in rounding up additional allies, but, well... The Varanians can't campaign in the autumn and winter. Osilintis, we have no idea when they will come to our aid. Those birdmen certainly keep a lot of secrets behind their feathers."

"Indeed. I have no idea whether or not they have even mobilized any of their forces," the Grand Marshal added.

Rohmhelt nodded and looked to the map table between the two of them that tried, as best as was possible, to lay out the current state of affairs across Vorlanys. While the main force of both his and Duronaht's armies converged on the fortress city of Eynond, another front had broken out to the north where Empress Evinda's home territories fought against Omonrel's adopted family and its allies. A messy and disorganized civil war ravaged much of central Methrangia, though, with his armies unable to provide any assistance, Rohmhelt mourned that those loyal to him were fighting for a hopeless cause.

One blessing came from the fact that Duronaht's support near what had once been his capital of Zarmand was not entirely solid. Uprisings, though not loyal to Rohmhelt, had severely weakened his brother's hold on his own lands. All over the map, there were idiosyncrasies that made difficult any attempt to categorize any given region besides a few core holdings for each side.

"It seems to me that we have to get through this winter and then lure Duronaht deeper into our lands, maybe as far as Karmand itself," the Emperor mumbled, tapping his finger on his capital city at the base of Mount Pivox. "Certainly by then the birdmen of Osilintis will be with us and the Varanians will feel comfortable with weather that warm."

"Quite so, Your Imperial Majesty," Agrehn nodded. "As for the immediate situation..."

"Yes, yes," Rohmhelt sighed in despair as he turned his eyes back to Eynond and the figurines representing the advancing hordes his brother commanded. "I assure you I haven't forgotten."

"Indeed. Your brother's... I should say the Traitor King's army has..."

"No. It's fine to call him my brother," Rohmhelt interrupted. "I've decided to drop that nonsense that he isn't. He always will be, no matter how vile he's become."

"Very good," Agrehn replied with trepidation. "Your brother's army has tried to establish positions north and west of Eynond, but we've succeeded in keeping them on their side of the river. At least, we've managed that much for now. It's come at a cost, though. Two thousand men killed over the past two days in those actions."

"No sightings of his angels?" Rohmhelt quickly asked, not wishing to dwell on the losses.

"Not as of yet, which worries me. They can strike virtually anywhere they want, any time they want and yet they aren't doing so."

"That's concerning when you put it that way. I'll have a talk with Cyrona aobut that and see if she knows what might be happening there," the Emperor said. "On the other hand, we could be ordering ours to do the same and we're not doing it because we're scared of leaving our main forces completely open. I think everyone's scared of making too big of a move."

Agrehn nodded and tapped a finger on his beard.

"That could well be. Just a calm before the storm, though, I'm sure," the Grand Marshall stated calmly.

Just as Agrehn finished speaking, three sharp knocks fell upon the door.

"Enter," Rohmhelt commanded.

A languid member of the Solnahtern stepped in, his droopy face and slow fluid motions providing the appearance of a calm state of affairs that Rohmhelt so desperately craved.

"The Empress and Commander Dastov have arrived, Your Imperial Majesty," the guard's lumbering voice crawled forward.

"Send them in," Rohmhelt commanded as he took a seat in a heavy wooden chair at the table's head. "Stay, Grand Marshal."

Agrehn had looked as though he wished to leave and be done for the evening, but he dutifully obeyed. Evinda stepped in first, draped in a fluffy white dress that she assured him kept her sufficiently warm in the colder weather. Combined with her beautiful white hair, it created a striking frame around her bright crimson skin. Following close behind was the tall and slender figure of Commander Dofehnd Dastov. His attire was spotless and unwrinkled, comprising of a formal red and blue doublet, black trousers with a gold outer stripe, and a black cloak held together by a simple silver clasp below his chin. Each graceful step he took forward was aided by his black lacquered cane, which sharply clicked against the stone floor.

"Your Imperial Majesty," he announced in his high and raspy voice as he bowed. Dastov's pale green eyes carried with them an eerie calm as they sat back inside his pronounced eye sockets. "I am pleased that you could find time to meet with me. Truly, it is a great honor."

"I had hoped to meet with you yesterday when I arrived, Commander," Rohmhelt replied. "But, as I'm sure you're aware, the demands on my time are formidable."

"But of course and, yes, I am all too aware of that. I do hope you find the information provided by my agents useful. After all, I hope you won't find it immodest of me to say so, but this map before you is the product of the fruitful and dangerous work of many of these men and women all across the empire," Dastov pompously declared as he made a sweeping motion over the map with his right hand. "Loyalty to our Emperor drives all of our labors."

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Rohmhelt nodded out of appreciation and the cleared his throat.

"I do appreciate all of this, Commander. I, however, cannot easily let go what happened with your attempt on my brother's life. My wife knows how I feel about it, but I wanted you both to be here so that there is no further misunderstanding," he said in a firm tone. "Nothing more of that sort is to ever be done again without my explicit order. Ever. Is that understood? Had you turned my brother and his family into martyrs through an underhanded ploy like that it would have further eroded our support without bringing this war any closer to an end. His angel allies, Omonrel, Parlon, and the rest are the core of our problem. My brother is a pathetic pawn."

Dastov smirked and his eyes momentarily flashed. Rohmhelt surmised that he must have expected this particular scolding.

"I was under the impression, the distinct impression, that attempting to decapitate our enemies whenever the opportunity presented itself would be fair game in this conflict," he said with a hint of mischief. "I'll endeavor to only keep Your Imperial Majesty informed and be a humble vessel to receive and carry out your orders, never again taking matters into my own hands. Your will is my command."

"And am I to understand that there are no other such activities underway at the moment? If there are, I want them stopped." Rohmhelt ordered, leaning forward in his chair and locking his eyes firmly on Dastov.

"I have no such operations being conducted now or in the future," Dastov answered with a smile and a nod. "I should say, however, that some of your supporters in Methrangia itself and throughout the empire are enthusiastic in their own right. Really quite remarkable what they've done on their own. In fact, our effort related to your brother simply aided something that was underway under its own power, to a great extent. I can't speak to any of that sort of thing."

"Commander, I..." Rohmhelt started with an angered sigh.

"I assure Your Imperial Majesty, I'll do everything I can to try to better focus their efforts on activities other than assassination. There are so many other fruitful avenues. We needn't aid or endorse anything you would find distasteful," Dastov declared, punctuated with a bow.

"And on the matter of 'other activities'," Rohmhelt continued, taking a deep breath to steel himself against Dastov's irritating affectations, "your Aura studies here have drawn the concern of our angelic allies. While I'm willing to overlook that accident as being just an unfortunate happening, Simel told me of something else that disturbed me."

"The Silver Aura?" Dastov asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"Exactly. We find it necessary to delve into the Auras because Nethron left us with no choice, but that's a step too far. Everything else about it put aside, if the High Angel learns about it, she may be so enraged she'll withdraw her support or, worse, strike us down!" Rohmhelt barked at Dastov.

Dastov closed his eyes and tapped his cane against the ground twice before opening his eyes again.

"Why do we field an army?" the spymaster queried.

"What?" Rohmhelt replied, confused.

"Why do we field an army? What is its purpose?" Dastov continued. "Surely, if your cause is so clearly just, we can simply talk our enemies out of what they're doing and they'll go home. Problem solved. But, of course, that's not what's happening. So you need your huge army to fight your brother's huge army. War is an unpleasant thing, but necessary. If you didn't field an army you'd have to surrender. Please, by the way, humor me the rest of this thought exercise before you object."

With the most reluctant of sighs, Rohmhelt motioned for Dastov to continue.

"Your Imperial Majesty just conceded that we need to have our own mages wielding the Auras because Nethron made that inevitable. Your brother's army has some 1,700 mages per my last count. We have a mere four hundred, including the dozens I've trained. Beyond that, it became clear to me some time ago that his mages are dabbling in aspects of the Auras, including the Silver Aura, that we find distasteful," Dastov delivered with a sarcastic snicker. "Ceding that ground to them isn't sensible. You may as well willingly let them flank you on the battlefield. Fighting this war in a way that makes us feel good about it has an appeal, but pretending our enemies won't seek out every advantage, however distasteful, is folly. I can assure you, our enemies have no such scruples. None whatsoever, in fact."

"This is more than distasteful, Commander. With the Silver Aura we're risking the High Angel's wrath," Evinda at last joined in Rohmhelt's prodding of Dastov.

"The High Angel is in a self-imposed exile at the moment for exercising that wrath," Dastov swiftly riposted, not even giving the Empress the courtesy of a slight glance. "We have no idea when she will rejoin us, but by the time she does we might find ourselves hopelessly outmaneuvered."

After he finished speaking, the room was silent. Muffled shouts of drills being conducted in the citadel's west courtyard thwapped against the walls as Rohmhelt considered how to respond. Conflicting strands tangled in his head and yet he wanted to quickly resolve the matter. After some moments, he determined his course.

"Grand Marshal Agrehn, find a place for Commander Dastov in your regular command staff. Commander, whatever you do in the future, it will be something we discuss together via ordinary channels. Is that understood?" Rohmhelt sternly ordered.

Dastov's green eyes warmed and he smiled at the Emperor.

"I am pleased we will be speaking more often, Your Imperial Majesty," Dastov said with a bow.

"You're excused for the remainder of the evening. You as well, Grand Marshal. The Empress and I thank you for your time."

Once they were left alone, Rohmhelt rose from his chair to look out the window at the nighttime sky while Evinda stared at the disposition of forces on the map.

"I think you handled that well," Evinda said at last. Her tone was so flat that he couldn't tell if she was insincere or merely tired. "Keeping him close like this will make sure we know what he's doing while still making use of his talents. We can't deny he has them."

"I kept feeling like I should punish him for what he's done, but he also made a bit too much sense to do that," Rohmhelt mumbled and walked over to his dear wife. He felt his muscles loosen in her close presence. "We do need all the help we can get."

"And I'll give you whatever help you need," she said, putting her warm hand on his cheek. "And I'll tell you when you've made a mistake. You know that. You didn't make one tonight. This is the right balance."

"I pray you're right," Rohmhelt murmured and shut his eyes. "I pray you're right."

~~~

Grand Marshal Vildrious dismissed his junior commanders for the evening after listening to their litany of failures in trying to find a stable crossing of the rivers bracketing Eynond. He hoped to tell Emperor Duronaht that the strategic situation had changed, but that would be an obvious lie. They were still left utterly stymied within sight of the looming fortress.

Realizing he had already dithered too long, he stormed out of his command tent and strode as quickly as he could to join his Emperor at the appointed place. It was the northernmost point of their forces, a small hillock with a good view of the rivers as they converged under the shadow of Eynond's imposing citadel. The light of Rithys's moons gave the entire sight a pleasant silvery blue glow with no clouds to dull their luster. Duronaht stood between a squad of his Solnahtern guards and with the angel Omonrel floating just behind him.

"Your Grand Marshal is here, at last," Omonrel said with no effort to dampen his voice. His blue crystalline eyes flashed with hostility at Vildrious.

"My apologies, both to you, Your Imperial Majesty, and you, my Angelic Lord. It was a long conference with my..." Vildrious began to stammer out, but Duronaht raised his hand to command Vildrious's silence without turning to face the Grand Marshal.

"I understand. Don't worry, Vildrious," Duronaht chuckled. "We haven't been able to break through yet and I know that. I didn't expect we would. I've actually just been trying to inspire dread in my brother's army. They know the full strike will fall soon. And I will dictate when that happens."

"Agreed, Your Imperial Majesty," Vildrious concurred, slightly unnerved by the Emperor's sanguine tone.

"The day after tomorrow. That's when it will be. Vildrious, speak with Jagreth and Myrvaness. They've got something for you that will help your plans. I would tell you more about it, but I want you to be surprised," Duronaht cheerily announced as he at last turned to face Vildrious.

"If I may ask, generally what is..." Vildrious queried.

"His Imperial Majesty was so impressed with what Jagreth was able to do for us before that we asked Jagreth to develop something new," Omonrel said with a smirk.

"It's a pity I won't see the look on my brother's face when he first sees it," Duronaht laughed. "It might be the last expression he ever makes."