Stuck In Magic by Christopher Nuttall

Author:Christopher Nuttall
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-19T15:52:38.754924+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

The summons arrived at nightfall, the messenger barely giving Rupert a chance to wake me – and for me to pass command to Horst and Fallows – before hurrying us back to the city. We had special permission to return, something that underlined just how serious matters were as we dressed in our finest uniforms –

Rupert’s would have outshone even a dictator’s personal outfit – and joined the council of war in the city palace. It was neutral ground, apparently, which didn’t keep it from being surrounded by legions of private guards. I wondered, idly, just what could be done to defend the city if those men were under my command.

I hadn’t had any real hopes for the council of war – the city government was such a mess that it was hard to say who was responsible for what – but it managed to be worse than I’d feared. Men were shouting at each other, trying to sort out a pecking order before they decided on a response to the crisis; servants were making their way from table to table, handing out drinks that stank of alcohol. I declined, and signalled to Rupert that he should decline too. We needed clear heads. I watched, feeling my heart sink as senior aristocrats finally managed to impose some semblance of order on the crowd. If a relatively small council was like this, it was a wonder anything got done. I supposed I should be grateful. A more efficient city government would probably have been better at hunting down the runaways and staving off the war.

You have a chance to prove yourself, I thought. Don’t fuck it up.

My eyes glided around the room. I recognised Lord Drache – Rupert’s father –

sitting next to an older man who reminded me of Harbin Galley. His father?

Harbin himself was standing on the other side of the map table, wearing a blood-red tunic covered in gold braid and medals. Stolen valour, or I was a fool.

The British officers of old had worn red so the blood wouldn’t show and demoralise the troops, something I’d always thought was a little silly. It was unlikely Harbin had even considered showing so much consideration in his life.

He probably thought it made him look good. Me? I thought it made him look like a target.

He looked at me, just for a second. His eyes glinted. I couldn’t tell if he remembered me or not. He probably thought all guardsmen looked the same. And yet, standing next to Rupert … it was hard to tell. The look he directed at Rupert was anything, but friendly.

“The warlord intends to send a troop of cavalry down the road to the outskirts,”

a young man I didn’t know said. His fingers traced a line on the map. “They’ll

occupy Pennell” – a small town on the edge of the city’s formal jurisdiction –

“and then devastate the farms before retreating, having given us a bloody nose.”

I frowned. “How can you be sure?”

The room rustled. I realised I’d made a mistake, talking out of turn.

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