“No need to apologize,” she said, crossing to stand before him. “Must we evacuate?”
“No, not yet,” he assured her, tone grim, his gray mustache framing downturned lips. “A pigeon arrived an hour ago with a troubling message. I was informed, and I knew you’d want to know immediately. General Roderic Calder has been captured. We think he’s alive, and we have his last known location.”
“We must begin planning a response at once.” Relief flickered briefly that the news was not worse. She must compose a robust response to avoid accusations of disregard for a political rival’s welfare. In truth, she wished only the best for her brother-in-law, despite petty squabbles over the years. “Has someone been in touch with Lord Calder at Highcrest Hall?”
“I dispatched a pigeon just before coming here,” Stark replied. “I took the liberty of sending messengers to Chief of Staff Fontaine and Secretary Navarro.”
“Yes, certainly. Let’s meet across the way at the Capitol Building—my office. No need to wake everyone until we have more information. I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Very good, Your Excellency. I’ll start a pot of coffee.” Stark bowed and showed himself out.
“I warmed a pastry for you,” Maggie said, walking into the room with an aromatic treat wrapped in a hand towel. “What else do you need?”
“Just a moment to gather myself.” Azaleen needed to project strength and authority, not joy that her home was safe for the moment.And Lark,she thought. One of her instant fears had been a negative report from her team, that Lark had been hurt or killed. “Please see the boys off to school.”
“What if they hear what happened to their uncle at school?” Maggie’s concern struck Azaleen like a hammer. She sighed and glanced at the stairs.
“I hadn’t thought of that. News travels so fast, and they need to hear it from me. Thank you, Maggie. I’ll get my breakfast in a minute.” She mounted the stairs, a million thoughts spinning in her head, woke her sons, and toldthem that Uncle Roderic had been taken hostage and she would do everything possible to get him back safely.
Caelen rubbed his eyes as he sat up in bed. “The Iron Army captured him? Will they hurt him? How will we get him back?”
“We’re working on it.” She raked her fingers through his hair. “Don’t be afraid.”
“What happens when the war comes here?” His youthful eyes pleaded with her, and Azaleen wished she could do or say something to ease his fear.
“Then we deal with it,” Eldrin declared. He stood beside his brother’s bed in pajama pants, his arms folded over his bare chest, an intense look on his face.
When did Eldrin develop those muscles?Azaleen thought.He’s growing up so fast.
“That’s right.” She nodded to her elder son, stood, and instructed, “Go to school. Do your best. I’ll let you know what is decided. They won’t be foolish enough to kill an important leader like General Roderic Calder. He’s much more valuable alive. Now, you have three more hours to sleep.”
“I’ll pray for Uncle Roderic’s safe return first,” Caelen said in a sombre tone.
“Pray to whom?” Eldrin’s posture remained closed, his brows narrowed.
Caelen lifted his chin with the earnestness of a spiritual sage. “To all the gods and angels, like Mama does. Someone will hear me.”
Eldrin dropped his arms, his shoulders with them, and shook his head. “Yeah, right.”
“Eldrin,” Azaleen called his name, pinning him with sharp disapproval. “All spiritual beliefs are valid. If you choose to adhere to none, do so without disrespecting others.” She sighed, sliding from queen to mother. “Go back to sleep, both of you.”
A small council met in the queen’s office before dawn, the weight of it already pressing in. Azaleen picked at her pastry and sipped the general’s coffee while Stark read the note they’d received. He rolled out a map on the table and pointed to Bethel Springs and Cypress Creek. “This is where he was planning his ambush, so we believe this is where he was when they took him. From here, it’s hard to say if the Iron Army is marching to Stonevale or Marchland. It’s almost certain General Garcia will take Tupelo and raid their storehouses to feed his troops.”
“How successful was the ambush?” Azaleen asked. “Do you know casualty counts?”
“I’m sure those will arrive in the coming hours. Sergeant Brant, who sent the pigeon, only reported on Calder.”
Camille, worry etched on her face, suggested, “Perhaps we can bargain for Calder’s return. We captured at least two Iron Navy captains we could offer to trade for him.”
“You assume Garcia cares about the Navy captains,” Azaleen said frankly, already spinning a proposal.
“Well, President Irons would,” Camille countered. “Experienced naval commanders don’t grow on trees.”
“I hope they are agreeable to a prisoner exchange,” Stark said, leaning back in his chair, staring blankly at the map. “We don’t have a strong enough force to meet them in the field, and I won’t pull Longstreet out of Marchland. It would be suicide.”
“No, you’re right, General,” Azaleen concluded. “Even if Calder managed to deal a substantial blow to the Iron Army, they would still greatly outnumber any force we could throw at them. That’s why a small, elite team will be needed to extract Roderic.”
“But VERT is in the south,” Sabine reminded her, speaking for the first time.