The First Lord was a leonine man, tall and lean, with dark golden hair and black, opaque eyes beneath the simple, undecorated steel band of his coronet, the traditional crown of a First Lord at war. Dressed in his own colors of scarlet and black, still, Aquitainus Attis—Gaius Aquitainus Attis, Ehren supposed, since Sextus had legally adopted the man in his last letter—faced Raucus’s insistent statement with total calm. In that, at least, he actually was like Sextus, Ehren thought.

The First Lord shook his head. “The vord are obviously alien to us, but just as obviously intelligent. We have prepared defenses because it is an intelligent measure that even fools realize increases our ability to defend and control our land. We would be fools ourselves to assume that the vord cannot reach the same conclusion.”

“When Gaius led our forces against the vord, you advised him to attack,” Raucus pointed out. “Not retreat. It was the correct course of action.”

“Given how many vord came to the final assault on Alera Imperia, apparently not,” the First Lord replied. “We had no idea how many of them were out there. If he’d taken my counsel, our assault would have been enveloped and destroyed—and the vord were expecting us to do so.”

“We know their numbers now,” Raucus said.

“We think we do,” Aquitaine shot back, heat touching his voice for the first time. “This is our last chance, Raucus. If these Legions fall, there is nothing left to stop the vord. I will not waste the blood of a single legionare if I cannot be sure to make the enemy pay a premium for it.” He folded his hands behind his back, took a breath, and released it again, reassuming his air of complete calm. “They will come to us, and soon, and their Queen will be compelled to accompany them and coordinate the attack.”

Raucus scowled, his shaggy brows lowering. “You think you can mouse-trap her.”

“A defensive battle,” Aquitaine replied, nodding. “Draw them to us, endure the assault, wait for our moment, and counterattack with everything we have.”

Raucus grunted. “She’s operating with furycraft now. And on a scale equal to anyone alive. And she’s still got a guard of the Alerans she took before Count and Countess Calderon ruined that part of her operation.”

Not even Antillus Raucus, Ehren noted, was willing to point out openly to the new Princeps that his wife was among those who had been compelled to take up arms with the vord.

“That’s unfortunate,” Aquitaine said, his voice hard. “But we’ll have to go through them.”

Raucus studied him for a few seconds. “You figure on taking her yourself, Attis?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Aquitaine said. “I’m a Princeps. It’s going to be me, and you, and Lord and Lady Placida and every other High Lord and Lord and Count who can raise a weapon and the entire Legion Aeris and every other Legion I can arrange to be there besides.”