Ruler of the Realm

Eighty-eight

Hairstreak left the palace in a fury. How dare that stupid child treat him in this manner! How dare she refuse to listen when the future of the Realm was at stake! Time was running out – couldn’t she see that? The demons might attack at any time, perhaps in an hour, perhaps tonight. Yet he was supposed to wait another day before he could act – or however long it took the brat to make up her mind. No wonder the Empire was in such a mess. No wonder Beleth had decided to seize his opportunity.

The thought of Beleth increased his anger. The treachery of the creature was almost beyond belief. Except that he should have anticipated it. You could never trust a demon. But self-recriminations were pointless. The question was, what to do now?

His escort fell in around him as he left the Purple Palace. Hairstreak was under no illusions: the situation was grim, far more grim than young Queen Blue realised. The trouble was, Lighters never appreciated the truth about demons. Demons were dangerous. You could never afford to forget they had their own agenda. Which was exactly what he’d done himself. It was going to take some very fancy footwork to avoid paying dearly for that small mistake.

He ordered his transport to be flown directly to the caverns – the western entrance was just big enough for him to land. If anything resembled a stroke of luck in the present sorry circumstances, it was the fact that Hamearis was now dead. Not that Hairstreak wouldn’t miss him – they’d been through a lot together – but with Burgundy out of the way, Hairstreak was now unequivocally in charge of the entire Nighter military effort. No one would question his decisions. Or his orders.

He left the flyer and strode out on to the main cavern floor. The Nighter reinforcements were stretched before him, waiting as patiently as the demons in the desert. There was much less of a bustle than the last time he’d been here. All the preparations had been made, all supplies and armaments laid in and readied. It was an army awaiting final orders, as close to action as a drawn bow. The question was, what order to give.

So far, Hairstreak had held this vast army in reserve. But he would have to commit it soon. He was furious with Blue. If she’d only understood the urgency of the situation, his decision was made. An alliance against the demons was the only sensible course. Everything else was madness. Yet that madness might be forced on him. Could he afford to wait until tomorrow? And what if Blue decided to reject a treat? Should he throw the rest of his forces against the Faeries of the Light? Or should he turn them first on Beleth’s legions?

There were close on a million demons waiting in the desert. The creatures had no fear of death. Once they marched, they were relentless as ants. They kept coming, wave after wave, however many you killed. More to the point, if Beleth had managed to portal in an entire army, he could portal reinforcements if the need arose. There were an awful lot of demons in Hael. Another million fighting demons would be nothing to him, or another two, or three or even ten. The possibilities were too hideous to contemplate. The only hope would be to score a fast, decisive victory, then close the portals before Beleth could react. Close them, sabotage them, keep them closed. For ever, if possible. The Nighters could do without their demon servants. The price had just grown too high to pay.

The other obvious approach was to throw his entire might against Blue herself, hope to score a quick victory there before Beleth moved. But what were the chances of that? He was fairly sure he could overrun the Faeries of the Light eventually. But soon…? Unlikely. And even if it only took him days, there was no guarantee Beleth would not attack at once.

General Procles, the senior field commander, had already emerged to greet him, flanked by three of his aides. Hairstreak waited until he was within earshot, then called out, ‘Send your men away, Graphium – this is private.’ He dismissed his own people with a casual wave.

Procles was a tall, thin man, slightly stooped for a soldier. There was a deferential air about him that belied a steely character beneath.

‘I take it the mission was unsuccessful, Lordship?’ he said promptly.

Hairstreak shrugged. ‘My niece will not give her decision before tomorrow. Perhaps not even then.’

‘Will she stand down her forces in the interim?’

Hairstreak shook his head.

‘Do we know why?’ He was a shrewd General. His question really meant, Is there room for compromise or negotiation?

‘She does not trust us.’ Hairstreak sighed. ‘Perhaps we have given her some cause.’

Typically, Procles let it go. ‘Do you have a contingency plan? In the event of her refusal?’

Hairstreak sighed again, more deeply this time. ‘A desperate one, Graphium. That’s why I sent our people away. I want you to hear what I have in mind and I want your opinion. Then, unless you can convince me there is another, better way, I want you to take immediate action. Immediate,’ he stressed. ‘I cannot say how much time we have, so speed is essential.’

Procles nodded gravely. ‘I understand, Lordship.’

Hairstreak held his eye. ‘This is how I analyse the situation. If we are overthrown by the Faeries of the Light, that will be a tragedy. If we are overthrown by Beleth, that will be the greatest disaster in the history of the Realm. Neither ourselves nor the Lighters would ever recover. Our world would become a slave state with the demons as our masters. Do you concur so far?’

Procles nodded again. ‘Yes. If we are overthrown.’

Hairstreak said, ‘Clearly, we will endeavour to secure ourselves against either eventuality. We may even succeed, but I doubt it. I believe we might defeat Beleth or we might defeat Blue, but we will not defeat both. Anyone who thinks so is a fool.’ He stared at Procles, who shrugged slightly. Hairstreak went on, ‘It is my conclusion that, in such circumstances, we must ensure the defeat of Beleth as our absolute priority. Do you concur?’

‘Of course. This is precisely why you have offered an alliance to the Queen.’

Hairstreak said. ‘She may easily refuse it. Blue is obsessed with fighting us. She does not – will not – see the greater threat. And it may be too late by the time she comes to her senses. Let me speak frankly with you, Procles…’

‘Of course,’ Procles murmured.

‘Our pre-emptive strike has not been as successful as I anticipated. The Faeries of the Light are now counterattacking Yammeth Cretch. Our troops are holding them at the moment, but if Beleth moves, we are lost. Thus -’ he took a deep breath, ‘- it is my conclusion that we must throw every available man into a massive attack on Beleth’s forces in the desert. Not merely the reserve troops here, but our forces presently engaged with the Faeries of the Light.’

‘Even though the Queen has not agreed a ceasefire?’

‘Yes.’

Procles looked stunned. ‘You’re prepared to leave the Cretch and city undefended?’

Hairstreak nodded sourly. ‘Effectively, yes.’ He shrugged. ‘Oh, we can deploy a few militias of men who are too old or too ill to take part in the main offensive. They may delay the Lighters a little, but frankly I am prepared to sacrifice the entire Cretch – should it come to that – for the sake of a quick victory over Beleth.’ He hesitated. ‘But there is one more thing…’

Procles waited.

Hairstreak said, ‘Not all Nighters live within the Cretch. Simultaneous with our attack on Beleth there must be an immediate uprising by every loyal Faerie of the Night throughout the Realm. We can set the Realm alight within hours and with luck this may keep the Lighters occupied just long enough for us to dispatch Beleth. If that happens and if we can close down the portals again and if we don’t lose too many men in the process, we may then turn our attention to the problem of Queen Blue. Possibly we may have enough strength to depose her, if we cannot defeat the Faeries of the Light completely.’ He stared at Procles. ‘I would appreciate your comments.’

‘There are a great many if s in your plan, Lordship.’

‘Do you have a better one?’

Procles shook his head. ‘No, Lordship.’

‘Then set the contingency in place. Our commanders are to act on it as soon as they are able. Preferably tonight.’ Hairstreak turned on his heel and strode back to his flyer. As he climbed aboard, he added half to himself, ‘And pray to Darkness this is the right decision.’