“If we declare war, we will be seen as the aggressors. The king’s subjects may not like that, recruitment could suffer, and other nations will look negatively on us regardless of the outcome of the war. We must wait for Celngi to make the first move.”

  Across from the dark-haired, middle-aged councilman pleading patience, one of the older lords laughed. “Celngi has made their move, Varnon. They have spent years inching forward, claiming towns near the border. An official rides in, says the residents now pay taxes to Celngi, that they are citizens of the empire. A bloodless takeover, but they are capturing more and more of our territory every year, and have build a number of forts inside the official border. We have waited and waited for a declaration of war, and even gathering our army here has not deterred their actions. The functional border is almost within sight of Lake Elint. How much longer will you have us wait?”

  A tap sounded out from one side of the room, where a short, older man sat in a chair raised above the heads of the men assembled before him, a gold crown on top of his bald head. “You have made your point, Lord Targin. I believe we should let the expert on this subject speak. General Suladan?”

  All the eyes in the room moved to Taradira, as she stood opposite the king, hands behind her back, silently waiting, fully clad in her armor, her axe-sword at her side. Stepping forward, she cleared her throat. “The king’s army waits for your orders.”

  “In your opinion, General, is it the right time to declare war? Will we win?”

  Taradira made a show of raising an eyebrow. “We have prepared an attack plan that takes advantage of the current situation. Give the order and I will have it done. We can march all the way to the imperial capital if you wish.”

  Tilting his head back, King Roland Ettsgras laughed softly. “There is the confidence we all know. Lords, Councilmen, we must act. Celngi’s occupation of our territory must end. Marching to the capital is not needed, but a lesson must be taught. Lord Targin, how much have we lost to their tactics?”

  Running a hand through his red hair, the lord spoke confidently, as if he had been waiting for this question. “Five small towns, one large town, and some twenty or more villages. The total population that have unwillingly become imperial citizens numbers over three thousand.”

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  “Well, General, I advance forward until you have not only liberated our people, but also six thousand imperial citizens. Go as far as you need for that, and hold the border. We will declare war first, and show Celngi a proper invasion. Do you have any objections to this, Varnon?”

  The younger man pressed his lips together, looking first to the man on his left, then at one of the lords across the room. “No, your majesty. It is a fair and just retaliation.”

  “Then I believe this meeting is adjourned.”

  Taradira remained still, waiting as the lords to her left and the councilmen to her right left the chamber. The king, who also remained seated, beckoned her over. She approached, kneeling before his throne. “Come with me, Taradira. I would speak with your privately.”

  “Of course, your majesty.”

  Standing, he led her to a waiting room, and sat down in a chair, gesturing for her to sit opposite him. “What are the real chances of us winning this war?”

  “Very good, especially if we are not pushing all the way to the capital. They are not prepared for a strike from the lake, and we can isolate much of their frontline. Depending on what their supplies are like, the forts may surrender easily once we do that.”

  “This is your disruption strategy?”

  “One suggested by a captain, yes.”

  The king let out a deep breath. “I can only hope that the lords never find out how much of my job you do for me. You’d terrify them even more than you already do.”

  “I am merely one of your many servants, your majesty.”

  “You’ve known my father since he was a child, Taradira. You can tell the truth about which of us has more experience.”

  She shook her head. “I am not a person of the people. Your army respects me, but if I am giving orders to the commoners outside of wartime, there would be riots. The entire kingdom would split apart. The lords not accepting it wouldn’t even matter when the people themselves revolt.”

  Roland waved a hand. “Perhaps I overestimate you, or perhaps you underestimate yourself. You are a hero to multiple generations, a guardian of the kingdom and the people. Or an outsider. It could be either one.” He chuckled. “Thank you for supporting me all this time. Perhaps when the current crisis is resolved, I can step down and let my son take the throne.” He said this last part with hesitation. The son her referred to was not his own, but the son of one of the lords, married to the king’s only daughter. Taradira remained silent.

  “Very well, General. Set your plans in motion. The declaration will be sent. I wish you the best of luck, though I can assume it is Celngi that will need it.”