Adolfo pushed the papers aside until he uncovered the western part of the map of Sylvalan. “You will take our ten largest warships and fill them with Wolfram warriors. Those ships and men are yours to command. Check the ports at Seahaven and Wellingsford as you head west. There may be witches and their kin trying to find transport to the witch-loving barons further up the coast. But do not linger. We must not give them time to gather an army against us.” He pointed to a spot on the western coast. “That looks like a small harbor, opposite those islands. From there, it doesn’t look to be more than a day’s march to Breton—two at the most.”

“There is a harbor town south of Breton,” Ubel said.

“But you would have to march inland and then north to reach Breton. That gives the western barons more warning and more time to gather men to stand against you.”

“I was told there wasn’t a harbor town near Breton.”

”

Disliking the shakiness he heard in Ubel’s voice, Adolfo continued softly but firmly. “You don’t need a harbor town. A small fishing village will suffice. Anywhere you can bring the ships in close enough to land your men will suffice. The more swiftly you move, the less resistance they can bring against you. After thinking about your report on the barons’ council, it is now clear to me that Padrick, the Baron of Breton, controls the other western barons. Therefore, it is no longer enough to punish him for helping Liam after that whelp spoke out against us in the barons’ council. Padrick must be destroyed. Completely. His home, his family, his fields, his livestock. You must leave nothing but corpses and ashes, Ubel. Without him to lead, the western barons will need time to regain their balance, and while the west is in turmoil, the Arktos barons will lead their men to the northern part of Sylvalan, along with the northeastern barons who already support our cause. Our Sylvalan barons in the southern part of the land will march to here.” Adolfo pointed to another spot on the map. “They’ll come up to the southern end of the Mother’s Hills, blocking the midland barons if they attempt to enter the fight.”

“What about the Fae?” Ubel asked in a strained voice.

What about the Gatherer? is what he’s really asking. Adolfo suppressed a shudder. He would never forget that black-haired woman riding her dark horse. He would never forget that she’d killed his Inquisitors. And he would never forget what she did to him. His left arm dead, just from touching her. And the dreams lately…No. No one could know about the dreams.