Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 110079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
“If this were any other country, I would agree with you.” Quill’s low, growly voice rolled through the room, drawing all eyes to him. “I spent fifteen years in the Damardor military, which was largely trained by New Rosanthe officers. They’ve built their entire identity on fighting and conquering. Peace is seen as weak and wasteful, while dying for your emperor is viewed as the highest honor a person can achieve.”
“That’s disturbing,” Adrian muttered.
“No, it’s just different,” Tyche said with a sigh. “It’s been a long time since I last wandered through New Rosanthe, but I doubt much has changed. Most of the territory is mountainous or hard, rocky land with minimal plant life. What land that is good for farming and husbandry is limited to the two narrow peninsulas in the south. Not nearly enough land to support all their population. While they have ample resources available in terms of mining minerals and gems, they never sought to expand the technology that would make pulling those resources from the rock easier and more cost-effective. Instead, they pooled all their resources into the military. In their minds, it was easier to conquer Damardor and Uris-Oladul, who had ample farmland, and force those people to supply them with food. Other countries view them as barbaric and greedy. For the people of New Rosanthe, they see it as fighting for their survival.”
The silence that followed was almost suffocating. It was the first time Adrian had ever heard anyone effectively explain why New Rosanthe was so militaristic and antagonistic. He’d grown up in Erya and had considered himself somewhat worldly before joining the royal guard because he’d traveled to Brightspire in Ilon when most people he knew never left Stormbreak Point, let alone Erya. All the surrounding opinions had always been the same—New Rosanthe bred arrogant, greedy assholes who thought they should rule the world. It had always been about power. No one had ever talked about something as basic as survival.
“At the risk of being the coldhearted bastard in the room,” Shey began, tipping his head up, “what happens to Damardor, Uris-Oladul, or New Rosanthe after the death of Chancellor Feng is not our immediate concern. If Caspagir has a problem with New Rosanthe, then we settle it at the negotiating table or the battlefield. Taking out Feng is about crushing a darker plot that goes beyond countries and governance.”
Tyche loosened one hand from where he held his mug in a death grip and placed it over Shey’s, threading their fingers together. “Agreed.”
“What plans do we have lined up to take advantage of Feng’s itinerary?” Shey’s voice warmed, and everyone seemed to breathe easier.
“Jules?” Nigel prodded.
The young man stood and lifted away the map on the table to reveal a second map that was a close-up of the capitol square. Adrian shifted closer to the table to take in the layout. It was designed in something like a horseshoe with the main government building in the center to the north and a large opening south of it. A pair of long, narrow buildings flanked to the east and west.
Quill stepped up and started motioning to spots on the map. “The main entrance into the square to view the ceremony is from the south. The military will block off the entrances to the east and west, though we have it on good authority that it will be Damardor soldiers on the eastern entrance. Final assignments won’t be announced until tonight, but I think I’ll be able to get our people on the spot as a backup escape route. We’ve made no progress on the western entrance, so avoid it if possible.”
“What about the south entrance? You promised me holes,” Hayden cut in.
Quill shot her a grumpy look, but Hayden didn’t retreat an inch as she waited for him to continue. “The south entrance will be a mix of local and New Rosanthe soldiers. There will be holes in security, but as we agreed, they won’t show until after the chaos has started in the square.” He turned his attention to Adrian and the others. “They are allowing in supporters of Feng and the Federation of Order. No protestors.” Quill narrowed his eyes at Hayden. “Do you have your people trained to pass as supporters?”
Hayden waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Yes, yes. They’ve all been trained on things to say. We also have our hands on a stockpile of pro-Order T-shirts and hats. Our goal is for at least sixty percent of the crowd in the square to be our people. Noisy, angry protestors will surround all entrances. They will be ready to push into the square as soon as the outbreak of protests inside the square distracts the guards.”
Jules reached out and tapped a finger in the center of the map. “Our thinking is that we are going to need two teams. The first team is the decoy team that makes a show of getting tangled up with the guards on the western exit. They start as the protests get underway in the main square and run into the crowd. We will have people standing by to disguise them and hide them. We will move them out of the square and into the city through the southern entrance as the exterior protestors force their way in. As the first team is escaping and reinforcements are called to all the exits, team two—dressed as local police—will make their way into the building to intercept Feng and kill him.” He paused and lifted his hands, looking a bit helpless. “The only part I haven’t worked out is the escape. I know the routes, but I can’t guess how people are going to react. Once we’re out of the capitol building, there will be people standing by to help us escape into the city, but…”