The Radiant War

Chapter 15a

     “The Brigadier's in Carrow!” said Oliver Parrett in a hushed whisper.

     The other man, a steelworker named Frank Bell, stared at him. “The Brigadier?” he said. “The Brigadier?”

     “Keep your voice down!” Oliver stared around the dark tavern to see if anyone had overheard. The nearest of the other patrons were laughing over their glasses of watered down ale, though, and the two guards, keeping a wary, suspicious eye on everyone in the crowded room, were too far away to have heard even if they'd been speaking in a normal tone. Oliver allowed himself to relax.

     “He's on a secret mission, to help Helberion win the war,” he continued, leaning closer to the other man across the beerstained table. “I don't know what. Sabotage, probably. Or maybe he’s going to kill someone. A General, maybe the King himself! Whatever it is, though, it has to be part of something bigger. The Helberians are planning something, and its going to shake up the whole country!”

     “You don't know that!”

     “Why else would the Brigadier be here? Why isn’t he with the Helberian army, helping to defend Marboll? If he’s here, it has to be because he thinks he can do more to help Helberion here than he can fighting with his own army.”

     “How do you know it was the Brigadier? Some stranger help you fight off a gang of enforcers... Could have been just someone with his own grudge against them. Those Above know there's plenty of them.”

     “I told you how he handled those guards.”

     “You're telling everyone! If you're not careful, word will get back to the Bosses and they’ll send another mob of goons round to finish what they started. What are you still doing here, anyway?”

     Oliver ignored the question. “He just recruited them, just like that! He just gave them orders and they obeyed as if he was the King himself. I've never seen anything like it! A man like that, he can do anything he wants, accomplish anything he wants. I told him, whatever you want to do, just tell me and I'll help you. We all want to be ruled by King Leothan. He's a good king. A fair king.”

     “True enough, but Leothan's holed up in Marboll now, surrounded by the entire Carrow army. Helberion’s finished. The war's all but over. I wish it wasn't, but there you are.”

     “They've got something up their sleeve, I tell you. The Brigadier wouldn’t be here if they didn't. This could be the chance we've been waiting for. The whole army's out of the country, and we outnumber the guards ten to one. If not now, when?”

     “You're dreaming, lad. Suppose we do do something while the army's away. What happens when they come back? When Helberion’s conquered and the army comes back, what then? So long as Nilon has the army, we can't do anything.”

     “Yes, we can. We can prepare.”

     “Prepare for what?”

     “What if Helberion wins the war? What if Nilon’s army is wiped out or captured?”

     Frank Bell laughed out loud. “Nilon’s army swept across Helberion like a miller’s broom across a silo floor. Marboll is surrounded. Leothan's days away from total defeat, from being brought back to Charnox in chains. It's no longer a question of who'll win! The outcome was never in doubt. It's about whether Leothan can last out the week.”

     “You think? Have you forgotten how Leothan’s army marched into Carrow, broke into four garrison cities and captured fifty thousand of Nilon’s best men?”

     “I remember now they all escaped again, because Leothan was too soft to kill them when he had the chance. That's the difference, you see? Leothan’s soft, but Nilon’s hard. Hard will always defeat soft. Every time.”