Slowly, Edward turned to face his son. The king’s expression was dark, but not with disbelief. Marcus knew his father. Edward had dismissed Draconas because he neither liked nor trusted the dragon-turned-man. The king had not dismissed the warning, however. He’d been thinking about it ever since. Perhaps he and Gunderson were already making plans. Marcus breathed an inward sigh of relief.

“The dragons mean to conquer all of humankind, Father. Not all the dragons. Some, like Draconas, are opposed to this. But there are others, many others, who are in favor.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to add that he’d been inside their thoughts, he’d seen the vibrant colors of fear and outrage in their minds. He swallowed the words with his ale.

“We have one thing in our favor—the cannons,” Marcus went on, when the king didn’t speak. “This is the battle you’ve prepared for all your life, Father. Well, maybe not quite. You envisioned fighting dragons themselves, not humans wielding the power of dragons. No matter how strong their magic, a cannonball plowing into their ranks will leave them a mass of bloody pulp—sorry, Mother.”

He turned to her, afraid he’d upset her. Ermintrude shook her head and sighed.

“All this talk of war,” she mourned. “Just when there’s the loveliest young woman I want you to meet.”

Edward and Marcus regarded her in mute astonishment.

“She has just arrived,” Ermintrude continued calmly. “Her name is Izabelle. She is the daughter of the Earl of Cantwell and a distant cousin. You played with her when you were children, Marcus. I don’t suppose you remember, but she does.”

With another one of her leaps, which were not so illogical as they appeared, Ermintrude added, “And when do we meet Mistress Evelina?”

Marcus opened his mouth, only to close it again as Edward broke in impatiently, “My dear! Now is hardly the time!”

Ermintrude tapped her reliquary. “There is a time for all things, Edward. ‘A time for love and a time for war.’ So the Church teaches us.”

“So it does, my dear,” said the king. “But most times, war takes precedence. And it must now. I think you have a plan in mind, my son. I would be interested in hearing it.”

Marcus breathed an inward sigh. He was spared for the moment.

“I was thinking we could send a small force north to slow the dragon army’s march. Then feint a retreat, draw them back to Idyls-wylde castle, which is their objective anyway.”

Edward nodded his head, approving. “I have been thinking much the same thing.”

He turned to Ermintrude. “You should pay a visit to your father in Weinmauer, my dear. If you left this evening, you and your ladies—”

“Don’t talk rubbish, Edward,” interrupted Ermintrude crisply.

“You would have an armed escort—”