Hostilities
937 A.O.P.
One
EIMARILLE
Haighmoor was a city in a western province of Ashion that lacked the cheerful color of New Haven in its buildings. Its layout was filled with dreary streets surrounded by multiple city walls. Once known for its military school and the location of the commanding officers of Ashion’s army, it had slowly been picked apart by policy, the troop numbers wound down to a weak force the Ashion parliament had been pleased with.
Except the army hadn’t really lost its ranks, even if they’d lost the city. The battalions once thought broken up had merely been transported to the eastern provinces of Ashion in secret under the auspices of the military leaders whose loyalty was still to the old queen. They’d willingly let the politicians in two countries believe the army had been practically disbanded when, in fact, its force had remained intact, waiting to be called to the battlefield again.
Queen Eimarille Rourke thought the Ashion army was digging its own grave in a misguided attempt to rally behind an imposter. The bodies that fell in the poison fields were useful, though, even if they had to be transported to the field locations where the death-defying machines were positioned. Still, even with thousands of revenants to help aid their advance, the Daijal army had yet to break through the front line stretching from Urova down to Solaria east of Amari.
“The winter weather made advancing difficult, but our forces are in a better position now for a frontal assault. We can deploy our war airships with better accuracy and less risk to the crews,” High General Kote Akina said.
He stood at strict attention in the receiving room of the Beltre bloodline’s ancestral estate. The family’s name had been written into the nobility genealogies generations ago, a well-regarded and old bloodline whose political power had never quite been able to rival the Auclair bloodline’s over the years. Since the Inferno, they’d been partial to Daijal propaganda, putting them at odds with half the citizens of Haighmoor. Many of the citizens who favored Daijal over Ashion had filled the streets to greet her arrival yesterday with screaming fanfare.
Eimarille looked up from the map spread across the low table, its markings showing their troops’ positions and the always shifting front lines that didn’t match up with the dash marks delineating the interior province borders of Ashion. It had fluctuated over winter, the Ashion army providing a rather spirited defense of their provinces with the aid of wardens and bad weather.
The lack of wardens in Daijal and western Ashion was another detail hampering their push forward. While her army could create revenants, controlling them was impossible. The high numbers were becoming an issue in Daijal, with complaints being sent to New Haven about trade being disrupted because of unsafe roads, and the cost of transportation by airship was rising. Eimarille’s representatives were quick to say the risk and associated costs would ease once the war was over and won, but that excuse wouldn’t be acceptable forever.
“Targeting Cosian should be a priority,” Eimarille said.
“We sent a squadron after unloading another revenant horde for a bomb drop. Reports coming back from behind the enemy line indicated some of the airships were forced back on the flight over by Ashion airships and aeroplanes. Those of ours that did make it to Cosian were faced with upgraded ground-to-air defenses.”
“Were they successful in their attempted bombardment?”
“Some, not all.”
Eimarille curled her hands together over her knees, the heavy skirt of her deep blue ball gown falling in layers around her legs. She was here with Kote for an in-person update on the war, though it was running longer than she’d anticipated. She risked the evening’s schedule being delayed since the welcoming ball to tout the province’s support for Daijal and their queen wouldn’t truly start until Eimarille joined the revelry in the estate’s ballroom.
“And the revenants?”
“Poison grenades eventually eradicated them.”
“Warden-make?”
“Yes, Your Royal Majesty.”
Eimarille frowned at the map before looking at Kote. The high general wore his formal uniform with all its gold medals, braid, and ranking pins on display. The white peaked cap was tucked under one arm, his gloved fist pressed against his torso as he stood before her, delivering news she didn’t like and for which his orders were responsible.
The former king—long since burned by starfire—would have taken Kote to task for what Bernard would have seen as a failure. Bernard had never been one to see the big picture—truly, he had never even known about the ways Eimarille had worked to undermine his rule as his ward. That had been to her advantage. He’d thought her weak, despite the favor granted to her by the Twilight Star and the protection that came with it.
Innes had guided Eimarille down her road since she was a child taken from Amari as the Inferno burned away everything she once knew. Every step forward had brought her closer to the starfire throne and the decree still burning on that symbol of power. As much as she wanted to fly to Amari and claim what was rightfully hers, she could not do so until her younger brother and sister were dead.
If the only Rourke left alive was herself, then the North Star would have no choice but to let Eimarille take the throne, crown, and country that were, by right, always meant to be hers.
“Send another bombing run,” Eimarille said.
Kote inclined his head. “That can be done.”
“Good. I trust your skill in the battlefield and know this setback will not remain for long.”
Kote nodded sharply, all stiff shoulders and resolute expression. He’d ever been her staunchest supporter in the Daijal military, never hesitating in executing her orders over the years, both in secret and publicly after she was crowned queen of Daijal.
“The rebellion doesn’t have the production capacity to keep up with ours. We believe they won’t last through the end of the year, not with our war machines in the field. My understanding is that Solaria and E’ridia still have not agreed to an alliance with them. Solaria’s Legion has not crossed our southern border, and E’ridia’s air force remains behind the Eastern Spine.”
“What of the contested land in the south?”
