shouting at her generals about it, but where could they get them from? How long would it take to build them? How much would they cost to build?
“The Calidorians have a strong fleet,” Hanov said thoughtfully. “They’ve built it up since the last war to defend themselves against Aloysius.”
“Then we must ask the Calidorian delegation to loan us some ships to protect our coast and patrol the Pitorian Sea. It’s a solution that will benefit us both.” Could it really be that simple?
“You’re right, Your Majesty,” Davyon said. “And we must protect our coast as you say. But smoke is the key to this war. That is what Aloysius needs for his ultimate victory. It’s why his forces are concentrated in the north, which is his greatest strength but also his greatest weakness.”
Catherine smiled. “A weakness! You’re giving me hope, Davyon. Explain.”
“It’s a question of logistics, Your Majesty. Aloysius’s army is a long way from home. Some of his supplies can come along the northern coast road between Brigant and Pitoria, but the army is too big to be supplied exclusively by land, so most comes by sea. That’s fine in the summer, but it’ll be different when the winter storms begin.”
“But winter is months away,” objected Ffyn. “And mean-while the Brigantines have superiority on the water and are strengthening the land route all the time.”
Catherine nodded. “But with naval support from Calidor we’d have a chance to disrupt their shipping and maybe even attack the northern coast road, cutting their overland supply lines.”
“Leaving Aloysius trapped in Rossarb and starving,” Davyon finished.
Catherine smiled. “Draw up plans.”
Davyon bowed. “Your Majesty.”
“In the meantime,” Catherine continued, “how can we stop the farming of the smoke? You’re right, Davyon, that the smoke is the key to everything. I feel that we have some knowl-edge of the demon world and we’re not making use of it.”
“I do have one suggestion, Your Majesty,” said Davyon slowly. “We could send a special unit behind enemy lines to disrupt things. A small group of select men who can travel fast and strike hard. It would be a dangerous mission, but it would cause the Brigantines some headaches.”
Catherine nodded, her thoughts already going to Ambrose. He’d be the perfect leader for such a mission, and sending him away would have the added advantage of quashing rumors that still swirled around the camp about the nature of the relationship between the queen and her bodyguard. But, because of those rumors, Catherine didn’t even dare suggest his name to Tzsayn’s closest aide.
“Find a way of doing it, Davyon. Without smoke, the boy army is just a bunch of boys.”
An aide stepped into the tent with a formal bow.
“Your Majesty, may I present the Calidorian delega-tion?”
Catherine came out from behind the map table and smoothed her skirts. This was a historic moment: the start of an alliance between Pitoria and Calidor. She had to look like a queen.
“Lord Darby and Master Albert Aves.”
The aide stood aside, and two old men entered and bowed. Catherine nodded graciously, waiting for the aide to announce the rest of the delegation.
The silence stretched.
Finally, after what seemed like an age, Catherine realized that this was it: Lord Darby, an old, frail man with a cloud of snow-white hair, and his assistant, who wasn’t much younger. It was hardly a delegation meant to impress.
“Lord Darby,” she said hastily. “Welcome to Pitoria.”
“We are honored to meet you, Your Majesty.” Lord Darby bowed again stiffly. “But I was expecting to have an audience with King Tzsayn.”
Catherine’s jaw tightened. Of course he was. “Alas, the king is indisposed today, but whatever message you have for my husband you may tell me and have confidence that I will share it with him.”
Lord Darby looked a little uncertain. “Perhaps the king will be available tomorrow?”
“I fear not. But I am available now, Lord Darby. I am queen and have equal status to my husband.”
Lord Darby’s assistant muttered in his master’s ear. Darby nodded and pulled a smile across his face.
“My apologies. I was instructed to present my message to the king, but of course if that’s not possible . . .” He took a scroll from an inner pocket and held it out to Catherine. “A message for Your Majesties from Prince Thelonius of Calidor.”
Catherine accepted the heavy scroll with a smile. She carefully broke the seal of green wax, conscious that all eyes were on her. This scroll would contain Thelonius’s offer to join forces with Pitoria against Brigant and turn the