rum. He held the small glass up before him, swirling its contents about, losing his thoughts.
And then he swallowed the contents in one great gulp, and in frustration and rage, threw the glass across the room. It hit the wall hard, but at an angle that offered the strength of the thick glass, and so it did not shatter, but tumbled down to bounce across the floor. Then it went into a roll, and it seemed to Duke Bretherford like the roll of the uncertain sea below him, and like the uncertain emotions rolling within him.
Most of all, Jilseponie's parting words echoed within his thoughts.
Follow that which is in your heart.
For that was the truth of it, was it not? In the end measure, that was all that any man could do.
Duke Bretherford had never been taken in by the grandeur that was Aydrian, or by the resounding accolades of the young usurper offered by Duke Kalas. Duke Bretherford had known King Danube well, and had loved the man dearly. And Bretherford, above all the other of Ursal's nobles, knew well that the temperament of Prince Midalis was akin to that of the dead king.
Bretherford looked down at the small glass, settled now and rolling no more, save the occasional shift as the boat rolled in the sea.
Settled, too, were the duke's emotions. At long last settled, though he believed his epiphany now, his decision to follow Prince Midalis would likely deliver him soon enough to the netherworld.
So be it. He would die knowing that he held intact his honor and his loyalty to the line of Ursal.
He would die knowing that he had indeed followed that which was in his heart.
"They will arrive soon after midday, by Duke Bretherford's estimation,"
Belli'mar Juraviel informed Brynn.
The warrior woman stood up and walked to the edge of the rocky outcropping. Below her to the southeast, Jacintha spread out wide. "This Duke Bretherford, he will prove a valuable ally?" she asked.
"Better that he fight with us than against us," Juraviel replied. "The number of forces he brings with him is small - more than half of those who sailed with his small fleet opted to be put ashore in Entel, as per Jilseponie's offer in the terms of surrender, to continue their service to King Aydrian. But he is a nobleman of Honce-the-Bear, and well regarded among his peers. Perhaps his decision will cause others to recognize their folly, or to find their courage."
"You do not believe that," Brynn remarked.
"No, I do not," the elf admitted after a short pause. "My scouts place King Aydrian in firm control of the vast majority of Honce-the-Bear's population and military. But with Duke Bretherford's conversion, our allies in the north command the seas, and that is no small thing."
Brynn nodded, not wanting to further a pointless argument. She and Pagonel had discussed this at length and had come to the conclusion that the cause in Honce-the-Bear was not promising. The numbers of the prince's army could not carry him across the land, nor even very far inland. He seemed in danger of becoming to Honce-the-Bear what Maisha Darou was to Behren: a thorn and elusive irritation, and little more.
To their cause in Behren, though, and in To-gai by extension, Prince Midalis and Duke Bretherford might prove invaluable.
"Your journey through Jacintha last night was fruitful?" the woman asked.
Juraviel motioned for Brynn and Pagonel to follow around the side of a boulder, where the burning torch had been set, sheltered from any eyes looking out from the city. He produced the map of the city that Brynn had provided and carefully spread it out on a rock. "The stable and supplies," he said, pointing to an area in the northeastern corner. "The soldiers of Honce-the-Bear brought tons of hay with them and the bales are piled floor to ceiling in several buildings."
Brynn's expression tightened; it went against all of her To-gai-ru instincts to attack a stable. The nomadic people loved and appreciated their horses above all else.
"Not far from there lies a warehouse of pitch," Juraviel went on, sliding his finger more toward the center of the city.
"You can identify these structures from the air, in the dark of night?"
Pagonel asked, and the elf nodded.
Both went quiet then, and stepped back from Brynn. She felt their eyes upon her, and knew that her tearing emotions were playing out clearly on her face.
"I hate this," she remarked.
"But you hate the alternative even more," Pagonel reminded.