The Crimson Campaign

They had just mounted the steps to the mansion when a messenger came galloping hard into the courtyard and came to a stop in a spray of gravel. The messenger leapt from his horse and ran to the Privileged.

Tamas felt his heart begin to beat faster.

The messenger saluted and breathlessly gave his report. The Privileged pushed him away with an elbow and spun toward the mansion.

Tamas heard the doors below burst open. The Privileged’s voice echoed through the building.

“Get everyone!” he screamed. “All my Wardens, to me! I want five hundred soldiers here in twenty minutes. Give the order! We leave within the hour!”

“But, sir,” Tamas heard someone say, “the city!”

“I don’t give a pit about the city. Deliv can enter the war with Adro for all I care. He’s here, you fool! He’s here!”

“Nikslaus,” Tamas whispered.

Tamas watched as messengers scrambled out the front mansion drive, going out to give Nikslaus’s orders.

“Well, Demasolin,” Tamas muttered, “you have your distraction.”

Urgent steps sounded on the staircase in the foyer accompanied by Nikslaus’s frantic orders.

Tamas looked down to find one hand already on the grip of a pistol, the other on the hilt of his sword. His fingers itched.

“He’s coming,” Andriya hissed from his station by the door.

“Do we wait for him here?” Vlora said.

Tamas blinked and saw the bodies of Deliv politicians hanging from the steeple of the Alvation cathedral. He saw Sabon’s dead eyes gazing up at him from Charlemund’s gravel drive, and the countless soldiers Tamas had lost trying to catch Nikslaus.

He saw Erika’s head floating before him. Her face, frozen in horror, blond hair caked with blood, skin severed neatly at the neck. He saw Nikslaus’s grin as he presented Tamas with the head of his dead wife.

Tamas poured an entire powder charge into his mouth. His body felt like it was on fire as energy coursed through him. Vlora must have seen something on his face.

“Pit,” Vlora swore. “Andriya, get out of the way.”

Tamas burst through the double doors of the office, drawing his pistol in one hand.

“Nikslaus!” he bellowed.

CHAPTER 43

“Citizens of Adopest,” Lord Claremonte’s voice boomed.

The shock of the amplified sound made Adamat’s knees grow weak. “Pit,” he hissed, “he has Privileged with him!” It was the only way he could be heard above the roar of the crowd like this.

“My friends,” Lord Claremonte continued, “my brothers and sisters. My countrymen! I bring you greetings from the farthest corners of the world. I have come today to meet you, my fellow Adrans, and to lower myself humbly before you on gracious knee to offer myself as candidate for the post of First Minister of our fair country.” At this, Claremonte lowered himself down on one knee and bowed his head. A moment passed and he rose back up, spreading his arms as if to embrace every man, woman, and child on the riverbank.

“This is a great nation! We have so much. We have the unions, the army, the Wings of Adom, the banks, and the Mountainwatch. We have industry unparalleled in the modern world. We have the mightiest heroes that any country could hope for in the likes of Taniel Two-Shot and the late Field Marshal Tamas.”

Lord Claremonte sighed and bowed his head, as if overcome with emotion. “Field Marshal Tamas died for you, my friends. He died for me. For all of us to be free of the Kez tyranny. He had such incredible vision and stride, and I will not let it die with him!”

The crowd was utterly silent now. Adamat heard someone drop a coin, and he cursed himself for waiting with bated breath for Claremonte’s next words.

“For what this country needs now is hope. And for that, I have brought with me nine thousand of Brudania’s finest soldiers to throw in with the Adran army and push back the Kez aggressors.” He threw his hand back toward the line of Trading Company ships waiting in the river. “I have brought cannon, and rifles, and supplies. I have brought food, and money. I bring treasures from the four corners of the world, all of which will be put toward the war effort against the Kez.”

“I do this freely. I ask no thanks, nor hold back any of my wealth on reservation. I only ask that you consider me a worthy candidate for the coming election.”

Adamat noticed that other longboats were being lowered now. These ones were filled with Brudanian soldiers, and they were free once they hit the water and began rowing toward the riverbank. Claremonte’s own longboat had drawn anchor and was slowly drifting closer to the amphitheater.

“My countrymen,” Claremonte continued in the silence that followed, “this country needs change. This is a forward-thinking nation! A place of intellectual and industrial prowess. In my ministerial duties, I will continue to support that change and push us forward into the coming century. We will forget the old ways. The superstitions. The foolishness.