Roy should’ve known Percival would use some deflective technique, a shield to hide the truth. The past few minutes, and even the previous night, had shown Roy exactly what kind of person Percival was: an arrogant, self-absorbed fool more interested in his own ambitions than common sense and decency. Roy cursed himself for not having seen it before.
As much as he couldn’t quell his anger, he also couldn’t let Percival’s poor excuse for conversational tactics sway him. Percival wasclever; Roy couldn’t deny that. And if he took Percival’s verbal attacks too close to heart, then so be it. Roy had endured his brother’s fists and knives for years; words were the least of his concerns, or so he told himself.
In some way, this encounter felt more like a battle than the last. Percival was testing Roy’s limits to assert himself as the more educated scholar, though Percival was so conceited there was no doubt who he believed would win.
“You take me for a fool,” Roy said. “You might even think me beneath your intellect, but I’m well acquainted with the lore and customs of the old world. Yet despite my education, you have declined the opportunity to collaborate with me. I can’t see the sense in this; the Governorspecificallyordered us to work together. The ticking clock isfinite. So, would you care to elaborate?”
Percival grinned. “Oh, darling, Iwouldcare, in that I care little for your confusion.”
Darling.That name again. Roy dutifully ignored the warm, confusing fluttering in his stomach. “And the part thatdoescare?”
“Well, I have to be entertained bysomething, don’t I? And I must admit, your curiosity amuses me.”
“You didn’t seem particularly amused when I was on the ground.”
“Your screaming interrupted a perfectly good reading session. I can hardly be blamed for being unenthused.”
“‘A perfectly good reading session,’ ” Roy echoed. “Didn’t we just discuss your antipathy toward Razkamun?”
“You’re confusing a good book with a good reading session. I was content, absorbing line after dull line of text.” Percival chuckled. “You can only imagine my utter frustration when I heard your wails.”
Roy almost told the truth then—Iwailed, as you say, with good reason—but instead replied, “You’re deflecting my question.”
“Am I?” Percival batted his eyelashes. “Oh, dear me, I’m terribly sorry. It must not have been a very good question.”
Roy grunted. “This isridiculous.” His voice broke, and shockingly, Percival went still with alarm. “Northgard is on the cusp of war, Percival. The Old Ones are annihilating this city as we speak.No onewill be ready for the soldiers’ full onslaught, not when they haven’t a clue what they’re facing. And here you are—”
“Gearing up for a little lecture for me, are you?” Percival said, then relented. “Yes, yes, fine. I know all about the war, or rather, all about the fact that we’reatwar.”
“And that’s why we’re here!”
“That’s whyyou’rehere, darling.”
Roy was stunned. “You’re not here to figure out who the Old Ones are, or why they’re in Northgard? You’re not reading to figure out how to stop them?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying the deal—or threat, I should say—the Governor and I made is not the same as yours. Moreover, I don’t entirely buy the premise.”
“What premise?”
“The one that says the Governor knows nothing about the Old Ones.”
In that, Roy understood Percival perfectly. His own meeting with the Governor had confirmed his suspicions that Northgard’s ruler operated on his own agenda, no matter what he might proclaim about defending the people. And the paucity of the information he provided about the Old Ones was now being brought into stark relief with every grating word from Percival’s lips.
For fifteen years the Governor has been trying to find information, Roy thought.And we have six months? There’s no math in the world where that adds up. Even though he’s not a scholar, surely the Governor must have made some inroads to obtaining intelligence on the Old Ones.
And the truth was, even the information Roy and Percival had didn’t give them much to start with. But perhaps it was aplaceto start.
Swallowing his anger, Roy decided to change tack, to see if he could somehow get Percival back on task. He remembered what Matron Dimestra had told him on their way to the Orphic Basilica. “I assume you know about the Old Ones’ positioning, then,” he said. “Five units on the southern coast.”
Percival barely stifled a yawn. “Yes, yes, they’ve been posted there for three years.”
“You don’t seem all too bothered by the notion of war.”
“What I’m not bothered by is the math. Most military units are quite similar in size and functionality.” Percival drummed his fingers on his notebook. “Northgardian companies never exceed two hundred fifty soldiers. If we’re estimating the size of the Old Ones’ forces based on that scale, their numbers should amount to a thousand soldiers or so. The Droves number in the tens of thousands.”
Roy shook his head. “But, once again, that’s the point! You’re making assumptions, when we have no clue whether the Old Ones abide by our customs—that’s the whole purpose of our assignment! We just can’t compare their perception of combat and military structure to our own. Don’t you think the Droves have already tried that?”
“I have no faith in anything the Droves think up by themselves.”
