Page 87 of Beneath a Shattered Sky
“Three armies,” Prae corrects, quietly. “Unless you want to give my uncle unfettered access to all the food and wood he could ever need to equip his troops, then the Autumn Court forces need to stay put.”
“A big enough defeat here would see him withdraw in the short term,” Caed argues, then sighs. “I know Prae needs a moment, but making these kinds of decisions without the dour knight and your púca seems stupid. They’ve been on the front lines for the last week. They’ll have a better idea of what we need to do.”
Sighing, I turn towards Maeve, who’s still standing quietly by the door.
“Want me to help you kick Cress out of her own war room?” she asks, grinning.
It looks like that’s exactly what I’m going to have to do.
“It can wait until morning.” I look at the dark sky outside with a sigh, before turning to Prae. “I think we both need rest.”
Twenty-Six
Rhoswyn
“Spell it out for me,” I say. “Simply. I’m not pretending to be some great tactician.”
Although Maeve is literally hovering to my right, with Prae on my left, and Mab and Titania hovering on either side, creating a wall of powerful martial females.
True to her word, my grandmother helped me claim the war room the second we woke, but she couldn’t stop the small entourage that followed us.
Most of my Guard is here, crowded on either side of us. The only exception is Caed, who Drystan glared at until he agreed to guard the door. Gryffin, Cressida, and her knight-consorts are gathered on the opposite side of the great rectangular table looking stiff-faced and stony.
“Your Nicnevin gave you an order,” Maeve prods, and Cressida clenches her jaw.
“They’ve encroached to the Silfeyn at almost all points,” Naeven finally says. “Troops led by General Reyni are just managing to hold their positions twenty leagues north of LakeEyslin, but they’re tiring fast. Prince Uther’s battalion is still missing, despite your Guards’ efforts to find him.”
Acid pools in my gut, and I turn to face Bree and Drystan, the question swimming in my eyes.
“We didn’t want you to lose another brother,” Bree murmurs softly. “We fought near and around the area where he was last seen, but we found nothing.”
And they didn’t tell me because they wanted me to focus on my training. I understand the logic, even if I hate it. From what my other brothers have told me, Uther and his mate are both fierce warriors. They can handle themselves.
I pray they’re still alive.
Drystan sighs, waving a hand over the map, and half of the Autumn Court catches light, detailing the scale of the problem in vivid red flames.
So much land lost.
Cressida continues with a sigh. “The Torvyn has been lost to us for years. The Fomorians patrol it regularly, with camps here, here, and here.”
She points at little markers, and Drystan obligingly lights it up.
“Obviously, the western coast has seen some heavy fighting, but the forts have been weathering those strikes, and the majority of their efforts are still focused on taking land in the north.”
“And the Apporas?” Jaro asks, scrutinising the long border river between Summer and Autumn with narrow eyes.
“If Eero has truly taken the Fomorians as his allies, we can expect attacks to come from that direction sooner rather than later.” Naeven scrubs a hand down his face. “But so far, they haven’t.
It paints a truly bleak picture. Over half the court lost, and no one thought to even mention that this was an issue. They’ve all been helping me train rather than dealing with this.
But they have been dealing with it, I realise, as I recall Cressida’s words to me when we first met.
They believe their only hope now is a miracle.I’msupposed to be that miracle. They’ve been investing all this time into training me because if they don’t…
“What are your numbers like?” Maeve asks, taking over for me.
“Half what they were five years ago.” I hate the deadened tone with which Cressida replies. “And mostly focused in the north. If they hit us hard anywhere else, we’re done for.”
