Mercutio and Bernicia went into the council room together, as they always did. This time, though, the rest of the council was not all assembled. They did not see the priest Tritono or the Aedile. Mercutio made no comment on this and simply went to his chair, so Bernicia took hers.

  Mercutio said, “My Lord Admiral, what can you report about our preparations?”

  “My Lord Viscount, we will have twenty-four ships, at least, twenty-five if the Queen of the Waves can be made ready. Three other merchant galleys are due back any day, so we hope for more help there. Some ships will not have the new sails they hoped for, because of the fire. But we are requisitioning cloth from other places as we can find it, to repair the worst sails.”

  “What of water?” asked Judge Zen.

  “We will have enough containers for the trip to Malovana. We have collected five hundred amphorae from the wine merchants and should be able to find at least as many more. That, plus the barrels we have on hand will suffice.”

  “Do we have enough men?” asked Mercutio.

  “All the galleys are manned,” said Captain Fabricus. “There are even extras we so far do not have a place for.”

  “It seems,” said Mercutio, “that our plans for the attack go well. So let us move on to another topic: what should we do after we take the town?”

  “We must hold it,” said the Procurator. “It is part of the County of the Western Shore and thus part of our realm.”

  “I agree,” said Judge Zen. “We cannot simply abandon the place to be taken over by brigands or worse. It we overthrow the government, however evil it may be, it becomes our responsibility to defend the citizens.”

  “But what of the Red Admiral?” said Bernicia. “Is the town not roughly the same distance from Cancator and Calyxia? He could attack without our having any warning.”

  “The Red Admiral is a cautious man,” said Judge Zen. “He will not risk his fleet so close to winter. But we must leave a force in the town strong enough to protect it from a raid with two or three ships. That is something he might attempt.”

  “What do we know of the lands upriver from the town?” asked Captain Turro. “I wonder if the monks could perhaps retreat in that direction. Is there some place they could hold against us?”

  “Not close to Malovana,” said Zen. “there are several villages along the river and a small town at the first cataract, but none of those places are fortified. Smaller ships can reach as far as the town – what is it called?”

  “Gurano,” said the Admiral. Just simple answers to direct questions, Bernicia thought. He meant what he said about giving no advice.

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  “I do not know what lies beyond Gurano,” continued Zen, “for that is as far as I have travelled, but I believe there are no larger towns above it.”

  “It is productive country,” said the Procurator. “Known for wool and wine. There used to be a few silk plantations, although I have not heard of them in some years. It will be a valuable addition to the realm, and I expect the revenues of the place will be enough to cover the defense within a year or two.”

  “Excellent,” said Mercutio. “Is there anything else?”

  “I wish to ask about the prophetess at the fire,” said Bernicia. “Or madwoman or whatever she was. She made a deep impression on many who saw her, but I cannot find out anything about her.”

  Captain Turro said, “She is from Ancona. One of my men is from there. He told me that there they call her ‘the self-proclaimed prophetess.’ I do not know when she came to Calyxia, but it is only a day’s travel, and she has family who might aid her.”

  “What is her name?”

  “Vestaria Olano. Or so my man said.”

  “Do we know where she is staying?”

  No one answered, so Mercutio said “Sister, if you wish to find her, I doubt it will be difficult. Her ranting made her rather famous. Anything else?”

  At that moment the Aedile entered, looking flustered. “My Lord Viscount, Lady Reliquay, gentlemen, I am sorry to be so late. But I received a disturbing letter and I ran to track down the messenger to see if I could learn more. I could not find him, so I ran here with the news.”

  “Let us hear it,” said Mercutio.

  “The letter is from my cousin Dancio. He has been trading at the Oscutaro Fair, at the top of the Delta, and he sent this letter from Osas on his return there. It says a large band of Areada have been seen on the north bank of the Dark River. They are heavily armed but have so far done no violence. In fact they traded at the Fair. But when asked what they were doing they gave evasive answers. Dancio says he believes they are looking for something, or waiting for something, but he does not say why he believes that.”

  Bernicia felt her stomach churning. There were, more or less, two different groups of nomads on the vast plains that stretched west from the Middle Sea. North of the Dark River were the various bands of Tuchuks, who were formidable fighters with their curved bows but usually ill-organized. It was rare for any lord among them to command more than a thousand fighters. South of the river were the Areada. They were different in almost every way from the Tuchuks: different to look at, a completely different language, a different style of fighting that involved armored horsemen with long lances. They were said to be rich, for they controlled the caravan routes that ran west to Kadakan and southwest to Urandir on the Inland Sea, and their kings and queens loved to cover themselves with gold. The last time they had come north of the Great River in any numbers had been the time they attacked the fortress of Olamook, when Bernicia and Mercutio’s father had ridden out to face them and been killed along with all his men.

  Mercutio said, “This is old news, then, since the Fair ended a month ago. My Lord Procurator, can you send a letter to the Baron of Arandia and ask what his people have heard? He should do all he can to find out where they are and where they are going, but not risk a battle while so much of our strength is at sea. One war at a time.”

  “I will do it tonight. I suggest that we also ask the baron to question any other sailors or merchants who were at the Oscutaro Fair and see if others learned more than our friend Dancio.”

  Mercutio nodded. There seemed to be nothing else, so the meeting broke up. Bernicia waited in the room until she was alone. Then she reached into the little pocket that was sewn onto all of her dresses, so she could carry what was in it. Her hand found a piece of cloth about the size of her hand, bright blue, neatly folded. She ran it between her fingers as she had a thousand times before. It was a fragment of her father’s banner, found on the field of Olamook among the corpses of the Calyxian army.