There were a few shocked gasps, breathed oaths, nervous sideways glances. 'So soon?' Jezal's voice cracked slightly as he said it.

'I am afraid so, your Majesty.'

'What is the Gurkish strength?' asked Marovia.

'Estimates vary wildly. At present however…' and Varuz sucked worriedly at his teeth, 'it appears they field at least fifty thousand.'

There were further sharp intakes of breath, not least from Jezal's own throat. 'So many?' muttered Halleck.

'And thousands more landing every day near Keln,' put in Admiral Reutzer, doing nothing to lift the mood. 'With the best part of our navy on its way to retrieve the army after its northern adventure, we are powerless to stop them.'

Jezal licked his lips. The walls of the wide room seemed to close in further with every moment. 'What of our troops?'

Varuz and Reutzer exchanged a brief glance. 'We have two regiments of the King's Own, one of foot and one of horse, some six thousand men in all. The Grey Watch, tasked with the defence of the Agriont itself, numbers four thousand. The Knights Herald and of the Body form an elite of some five hundred. In addition, there are non-combat soldiers—cooks, grooms, smiths, and so forth—who could be armed in an emergency—'

'I believe this qualifies,' observed Bayaz.

'—perhaps some few thousand more. The city watch might be of some use, but they are hardly professional soldiers.'

'What of the nobles?' asked Marovia. 'Where is their aid?'

'Some few have sent men,' said Varuz grimly, 'others only their regrets. Most… not even that.'

'Hedging their bets.' Hoff shook his head. 'Brock has let it be known there will be Gurkish gold for those who help him, and Gurkish mercy for those who stand with us.'

'It has ever been so,' lamented Torlichorm. 'The nobles are interested only in their own welfare!'

'Then we must open the armouries,' said Bayaz, 'and we must not be shy with their contents. We must arm every citizen who can hold a weapon. We must arm the labourers' guilds, and the craftsmens' guilds, and the veterans' associations. Even the beggars in the gutters must be ready to fight.'

All well and good, Jezal supposed, but he hardly cared to trust his life to a legion of beggars. 'When will Lord Marshal West return with the army?'

'If he received his orders yesterday, it will be a month at the very least before he is disembarked and ready to come to our aid.'

'Which means we must withstand several weeks of siege,' muttered Hoff, shaking his head. He leaned close to Jezal's ear and spoke softly, quite as if they were schoolgirls trading secrets. 'Your Majesty, it might be prudent for you and your Closed Council to leave the city. To relocate your government further north, outside the path of the Gurkish advance, where the campaign can be conducted in greater safety. To Holsthorm, perhaps, or—'

'Absolutely not,' said Bayaz sternly.

Jezal could scarcely deny that the notion held its attractions. The island of Shabulyan at that moment seemed an ideal place to relocate his government to—but Bayaz was right. Harod the Great would hardly have entertained the idea of retreat, and neither, unfortunately, could Jezal.