Blood of the Emperor by Tracy Hickman Page A

“I am listening. What have you to say?”
    “Come, look,” Soen said. He began moving his Matei staff, swinging the tip across the firmly packed dirt of the warehouse floor. The metal tip of the staff dug into the packed earth, inscribing lines in the dirt that quickly took the form of a great map at their feet. Complex coastlines emerged, rivers, and even symbols where mountain ranges were located.
    Drakis and Ethis stepped closer, stopping just beyond the edge of the shorelines.
    “Here is Rhonas,” Soen said, pointing at a region on the map farthest from him with the tip of his staff, then shifting to regions closer to where he stood. “Here Chaenandria, the Mountains of Aeria, and the Plains of Vestasia. Over here to the east are the lands of Ephindria and up here is Nordesia and our little Mistral Peninsula. Willow Vale is here. For the time being, we are vulnerable—easily contained with our backs to the Straits of Erebus, short on supplies, and with nowhere to retreat.”
    “But the elven Legions were destroyed,” Drakis said as he gazed at the map.
    “The Legion of the Northern Fist, yes,” Soen acknowledged, “but there are many, MANY more Legions available to enact the Imperial Will and, I can assure you that they are moving in our direction with every breath we draw. More importantly, they will come with Aether—pouring their magic into the northern frontier with enough strength to overcome this reversal of the Aether you caused in Drakosia. If you remain and wait for the Legions to come to you, you will lose your advantage.”
    “You’re saying we must move,” Drakis nodded. “That we have to strike while we can.”
    “Yes,” Ethis agreed. “But where?”
    “The Legions will almost certainly move toward us along the Northmarch Folds,” Soen said, leaning on his Matei staff as he considered. “Part of their force they will deploy to guard the Shrouded Plainsince they know that your army escaped them once there and will want to guard against your reemergence from that place again. Then they will send out scouting parties to the south, east, and west to cover the rest of the frontier while the main force continues to the north. Once their scouts and their spies locate your main force and the pilgrim encampment they will know where to attack.”
    “But they will keep marching north, won’t they?” Ethis asked. “If they don’t find the army they’ll assume that we just haven’t moved yet and keep coming north.”
    Soen nodded. “Yes. And with the speed of their advance through the folds, they could be deployed in Char before we even managed to reach the Shadow Coast. Then we would have the Bay of Thetis on our right with Ephindria and the Shrouded Plain on our left. That is why we have to move the army and the encampment as soon as possible toward Vestasia. We have to beat the Legions to the Shadow Coast. Perhaps then we can come through Vestasia around the western end of Aeria—Queen Murialis permitting. From there we could use the army against the Western Provinces, reversing the Wells there and progressively weakening the Rhonas hold on Aether from the west.”
    “That would be a long campaign,” Drakis said. “And once the Legions knew where we had gone they would just shift to the west to intercept us.”
    “Yes, which is why you need to call for allies,” Soen stated. “You must send out emissaries—in your name and in the name of the prophecy—to rally them now while you still can claim victory against the Legions.”
    “How?” Drakis asked. “There’s no time…”
    “You have just enough time,” Soen smiled, his sharp teeth gleaming. “And you have the means that will not only bring your emissaries swiftly to the courts of all the subjugated nations of the north but in a manner that will insure that they will be suitably impressed.”
    “What do you mean?” Drakis asked.
    “Dragons,” Soen said simply. “Send them on your dragons.”

    Ethis stepped from the