Chapter Twenty-Five
Walking away from her physically pained Folken. He felt a tightness in his chest at the thought; things were going to start escalating quickly now that Zaibach had made their move. The first attack at Rampant had no doubt been to show Asturia that Zaibach was well aware of their movements. This... this was the real war beginning. And the realization that every kiss could be the last, every word said could be the final one spoken between them. He was used to losing people, used to leaving and letting them lose him—used to it, but not prepared to do it again. And walking away without saying everything he wanted to was agonizing.
He rubbed his temples as Aros escorted him through the halls. The guard had been mere steps from his quarters when Folken exited, and he silently thanked Millerna for her quick thinking. Personally, Folken wouldn't care if everyone knew. But his life was forfeit, so he wouldn't have to face the consequences. Eries would. And if she wanted it hidden, then she would have it that way.
They rounded the corner to the council chamber, finding panicked men running about yelling and interrupting each other. He tensed, unprepared to deal with the anxiety levels.
"Lord Folken, they've attacked only two fronts! Do you think it's possible they are unaware of our other strongholds?!"
"No, they mean to distract us and attack from our weakened sides!"
"Folken!"
"Sir!"
Folken took a deep, measured breath, and held up his right hand to silence them. He normally kept it hidden from them, but their hysteria would not be calmed by anything less than a slap to the face, and the sight of his monstrous claw usually was.
He wasn't mistaken. A hush fell over them, and he used the opportunity to hide his arm beneath the drape once more before speaking.
"No, I guarantee they are aware of all fronts, and are poised to attack each and every one of them. By attacking only two... which ones?" he asked, interrupting his own train of thought of Van's image assaulted his mind.
"Cesario and Basram, to the north," King Rhyne responded.
Of course it is Cesario. Van is there.
"By attacking from only one direction, it is almost certain they mean to bottleneck your forces, then attack from the south. Do not fall for their trap. Keep your men where they are, and trust in the north's ability to hold them off."
"But Basram has called for reinforcements! Clearly they think they cannot hold! What are we to do?"
Folken sighed, closing his eyes. He knew they would not like his answer.
"You must think like a Strategos. If you branch your forces from anywhere else, Zaibach will notice, and attack the men you've pulled forces away from. And so on, and so on, until you have redirected and split your men exponentially, weakening all of them and doing Zaibach's work for them."
A collective silence fell over the council.
"So we are to abandon Basram? Ignore the call for aid?" Allen asked.
Folken sighed again. This was the downside to allying with the morally right—making sacrifices wasn't nearly as simple.
His silence was his answer.
"What if we were to give up the girl?" an unknown dignitary piped up.
Rage seethed within Folken; Hitomi was a sweet, innocent thing, a long way from home, and trying to be brave. And she meant the world to Van. Folken could have exploded at the man, but he took a moment to level his head before speaking.
"Not a month ago, you gathered in alliance against Zaibach, ready to charge into war. Now you would sacrifice an innocent, likely terrified young girl who has done nothing but help you? And for what? To buy a semblance of time? To grovel at the feet the enemy in the hopes they back away and thank you for it? Do not cower, sir, it's unbecoming of a so-called leader."
The insult stung the man, and Folken studied him, waiting and watching to see if he would respond in anger or if he would accept the logic, albeit antagonizing, and back down.
He should have expected.
"Perhaps we could hand them back their traitor too. That might sway them. Or just return that monstrosity of yours—I'm sure they will be wanting their godless science back."
The silence in the chamber was deafening. The council was obviously waiting to see how Folken would respond. Their apprehension wasn't completely unfounded- he wanted to tear the man in half, show him exactly what he expected to see; a monster.
He took a measured breath, blinking slowly to calm himself.
"Be my guest," he said, trying to keep calm and managing an icy tone. He raised his metal hand in the direction of the offender, extending the rarely-used talon-like tips to make it even more claw-like. Several people gasped.
"Trust me, this thing is just as monstrous to me as it is to you. And ridding me of it would be a great favor to me. My nightmare would be over. That being said, handing Zaibach my very head will do nothing to sway them, so if we might put aside petty insults in lieu of fear, and perhaps tackle the real problem at hand?"
The council was silent as a cemetery, the men bowing their heads and waiting quietly for Folken to speak.
"Good," he said shortly, retracting the bladed fingertips on his hand and hiding it once more. "May I suggest deploying the castle guard?"
"What?! But the castle guard is in place to... well, to defend the castle... the royal family!"
Eries' stubborn smile crossed Folken's mind; her strength as she had attempted to tear the boards blocking the caverns from the wall.
"Your royal family is perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. And what's more—if Zaibach penetrates the city's massive outer defenses and makes their way to the castle, the guard will not stop them. But deploying them to the front lines might give the struggling defensive lines just the bolster they need. Your castle guard is combat trained, are they not?"
"Of... of course," a man in a red and gold cloak said as he stepped forward and bowed. "I am Noka, Commander of the Castle Guard."
Folken bowed his head. "Do you feel your men are prepared to deploy with the garrisons? Don't be afraid to speak truth—I would prefer to know if they are undertrained."
Noka nodded. "No, my lord. My men are expertly trained for close combat, some are even melef trained."
Folken nodded in thanks, turning back to the council for their input.
"But... but that will leave the castle unprotected..." a councilman said quietly.
"With all due respect," Folken replied, "if Zaibach defeats the alliance at the borders, no amount of castle guards will keep them at bay. And perhaps this way, Basram will get a small amount of aid they called for."
The councilmen nodded and agreed, and Noka bowed, excusing himself to ready his men.
Folken turned to Allen as the councilmen began to mumble and talk amongst themselves. "Have you received dispatch orders, Allen?" he asked quietly.
Allen seemed confused at why Folken would ask or care.
"Yes, I am to join Cesario's north," he said.
Folken nodded, sighing his relief. "If I may make a request..."
Allen nodded, his confusion still clear.
"My brother can be reckless and headstrong. Now is not the time to be so. I... I would like to ask..."
Allen softened, smiling slightly and resting a hand on Folken's left shoulder.
"I will fight beside him and defend him as if he were my own brother," he said.
Folken smiled genuinely. "Thank you," he said with a sigh.
"How goes your work with the pillars of light?" Allen asked, resting his hand on his sword hilt.
Folken knew his response would be a lie. If Asturia knew he had pinpointed how to direct them, they would abandon the fronts here, and attempt to go to Zaibach and attack directly. A good plan, in theory... but Zaibach had a tendency to be vindictive. Even if the alliance succeeded in Zaibach's capital, the forces stationed at Asturia would still attack out of pure spite. And with the alliance gone to the Capitol, Asturia, unguarded, would be leveled. Eries would die. Van would die. And for nothing. No, it was Folken's responsibility to journey to the Capitol. To face Dornkirk.
"I believe I have narrowed down the waves the engine gives off, and with more work, I will be able to direct them to our will," he said, sorrow seeping into his words. Allen had just agreed to protect Van in Folken's stead, and Folken had in turn lied to him. But he had to remind himself it was for Allen's own good—for the good of the alliance.