Lord Tarev nodded. “There are banners from across the Empire in his vanguard. I’d say he’s been planning this for some time. A victory against us would certainly improve his chances of claiming the emperor’s crown.”

Malachi frowned. “Why am I only now hearing about this?”

“The reports reached us last night, when you were . . . unavailable,” said Lady Kiradin. “Or were you not out carousing with my son? Sober times call for sober judgements.”

Viktor cleared his throat. “I was in the palace until almost midnight, reviewing proposals for the new fortifications. I heard nothing of this.”

“And do you think it proper that you should learn of this before us?” asked Lady Marest. “We all appreciate your contributions, but you are not a full member of this council.”

How could he forget? They found a way to remind him at every meeting. “I’d like to think the Republic’s defence supersedes protocol.”

“We are quite capable of managing the Republic’s defence without you, Viktor,” his father interjected. “At least for a few hours. The 8th and 20th regiments are already marching east. They’ll be in the Marcher Lands by nightfall, and in the Eastshires two dawns after. The 12th will set out before the day’s end. The chapterhouses of Essamere, Prydonis and Sartorov have pledged full support. The proctors have roused four entire cohorts of kraikons. Three days, no more, and the crossings of the Ravonn will have a wall of shields as well as stone.”

Three regiments marching east, to join the four already on permanent garrison on that expanse of windswept grassland between Fellhallow’s southern eaves and the northern foothills of the Greyridge Mountains. The contested borderland between the Eastshires and the Hadari Empire. It would serve, assuming Maggad didn’t launch his attack before everything was in place.

“Now I do know,” said Viktor, “I have a few recommendations.”

His father nodded. “I’m sure you do. Let’s hear them.”

“Reinforce the garrisons along the northern coast. If we can spare any ships from the western fleet, send those too. Maggad isn’t a fool. Holding the river does us no good if there’s a landing on the coast. He’ll bypass the Eastshires entirely, and we’ll have Hadari loose as far west as Royal Tressia – and all without a single immortal dipping his feet in the Ravonn’s waters.”

Lady Kiradin snorted. “And where are these soldiers to come from?”

“The muster fields.”

“They’re not ready. Why, I saw one of their drills this Tzadas gone. Running behind their colours like a pack of wolves chasing a sheep. Not an ounce of discipline.”

Again the disdain. Viktor supposed he should have become inured to it by now. For Lady Kiradin, soldiers were like servants, and disposed of as readily.