"Your Majesty?" A voice came from the half-open door. It was Coehoorn, back.
"Any news, Coehoorn? News from Rience?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. The communication device the sorcerer gave us... has informed us that Rience is dead."
The marshal noticed a slight spasm in the black-haired man's hands.
"Lann of Cintra, Lann Lannister." The black-haired man tapped the gem with his fingertips.
After a few moments, he snapped his head up. "Instruct the sorcerers to begin their work. Use magic to contact our informants among the elves. Pass on my order: there is no need to be cautious anymore, let the Scoia'tael begin to cause trouble, let the northern kingdoms take them seriously. Make sure to recruit more witchers into their ranks; I hear those with the cat-head medallion are eager to aid the elves."
"I will remember that, Your Majesty."
"And also send the rangers to find the white-haired witcher and the sorceress. Once they are located, await my orders."
"Yes, your majesty."
"This message must be coded. No magical decoding must be allowed. Remind those sorcerers that if they fail, if anyone discovers my orders, I will deal with them myself."
"Understood, Your Majesty." The marshal cleared his throat and straightened.
Menno Coehoorn, future commander of the Dol Angra troops, raised his head, stood at attention, and gripped the hilt of his sword firmly.
In front of him stood Emhyr var Emreis, Emperor of the Nilfgaardian Empire.
...
It was not known when it started to rain heavily outside the castle Hagge.
Rainwater hitting the window panes made Lann look up. He thought he heard the strange and shrill hoarse cries of ravens and crows, but it was only the sound of wind and rain.
The castle's conference room had been set up simply, with a table in the center that allowed everyone to keep some distance from each other, but close enough to facilitate clear conversation.
However, the attitude of those present suggested that the table was almost unnecessary.
Lann silently observed everyone present, most of whom he had met before.
Foltest remained away from the table, near the window.
Meve fiddled with the huge ruby on her necklace, her expression weary. Her lips twisted from time to time.
Only Vizimir II sat formally in his chair, with his elbows resting on the table, adopting a thoughtful posture.
Everyone was silent.
Lann looked away at the two kings he had yet to meet.
In front of him stood Henselt, the king of Kaedwen, with his bandit beard. Like Lann, his piercing gaze scanned the crowd.
Demavend, the king of Aedirn, rested in an armchair, holding a wine glass on his stomach, as if assessing the quality of the glass.
Everyone continued in silence.
Finally, it was Henselt who, annoyed, broke the silence. "We have gone to great lengths to gather everyone here, but no one said a word. What's the meaning of this? Since everyone is here, everyone must have their own needs. In my opinion..." Suddenly, he pointed a finger adorned with a ring with a large gemstone at Lann, his eyes narrowing like a thief. "You, the boy I don't know. You've been watching everyone since we arrived. You must have something on your mind. Come on, tell us what you think!"
Henselt's voice attracted the attention of the others, awakening them from their own thoughts.
Lann raised his eyebrows.
Looking at this group of powerful leaders, capable of changing the fate of the North with just a thought, Lann took a moment to gather his words and then showed an expression of apparent discomfort.
"First, allow me to express my respect, Your Majesty Henselt. Your reputation is well known and seeing you in person far surpasses any rumors."
He stood up and, after bowing slightly to Henselt, repeated the gesture sideways, taking in everyone present.
"Those present here are the foremost rulers of their respective realms, leaders whose decisions can alter the winds of the North. And I..." Lann pointed at himself. "I am but a simple earl, who has barely come of age. Being here, in the same room and sharing the same table with you, is already an honor. I have little to contribute, as I do not even know why I have been invited or what the exact purpose of this meeting is…"
"So..." Lann smiled modestly. "It's not that I refuse, but I really don't have any ideas - or, I just come here to listen to your Majesties' ideas and learn."
With those words, Lann bowed slightly to everyone present before sitting back down, maintaining a polite and kind expression at all times.
Henselt's face twisted as if he had just swallowed a fly.
Foltest, who had been watching the rain through the window, finally broke away from his contemplation, letting out a snort of disdain at Lann.
"You are much more talkative than Calanthe."
"Enough, Henselt, Foltest." Vizimir II intervened. "Don't pressure him. He shouldn't be the one to initiate the conversation, nor will he have much of a chance to speak in this meeting. Let him keep quiet until the time is right."
Lann changed his smile to one of sincere gratitude.
"Then let me begin." Vizimir II continued. "We need no further preamble. The only matter that has brought us here is Nilfgaard. There is no other reason important enough to call us all together."
As he spoke, Lann and Meve listened intently to his words. Foltest looked out of the window again with disdain, and Demavend took small sips of wine from his cup.
Henselt laughed disdainfully. "We have shown the Nilfgaardians the consequences of provoking us at Sodden. Don't threaten us with the Nilfgaardians, Vizimir, and don't spread sensational arguments."
"We beat them to a pulp at Sodden. Not only did we defeat their army, we also destroyed their morale. It is said that Emperor Emhyr did not agree with the large-scale invasion at the time, and the faction that attacked Cintra was actually against him. I don't know if this is true - I only know that if they won, Emhyr would only applaud and reward them."
"But after the Battle of Sodden, he suddenly became the party that opposed the troops, and everything that happened before became the act of disobedience by his marshals. Then there were heads falling and beheadings. Blood was flowing on the stage. "
Henselt raised his head. "That is to say, now that Nilfgaard has been in civil strife, and the military officers in the army are almost dead, who can Emhyr send to continue invading the North? Non-commissioned officers?"
Vizimir II did not lose his cool at the interruption, responding in the same calm tone: "But you still came, Henselt, right? So you must have a request, and this request made you, the proud one, willing to move your ass all the way to this war fortress-unless you ran so far just to laugh at us. Are you ashamed to say it? Or do you have to borrow a child-that is, Lannister-to dare to open your mouth?"
Demavend sat up in the armchair, visibly enjoying the reprimand.
After hearing Henselt's simplistic assessment of Nilfgaard, Demavend was quick to respond coldly: "If you really believe the rumors of civil unrest in Nilfgaard, it would be too stupid, and I would even be ashamed - because I have confronted such a stupid person for so many years."
"After the death of the old marshal of Nilfgaard, the army will be led by young and promising officers. They have been trained under Emhyr for a long time, and they have been waiting for such an opportunity for many years - it is those older marshals who blocked their way to promotion and control of military power."
"And as far as I know, those old dead marshals also obeyed Emhyr's orders. So this is not a civil strife, but a purge. Nilfgaard now has a stronger cohesion, and I even suspect that the defeat at Sodden Hill was also part of his plan."
"They now value maneuver tactics, rapid long-range cavalry attacks, and fast infantry marches. They also prioritize landings and coordinated assault. They employ concentrated attack strategies to dismantle enemy defenses, and rather than relying on magic, they utilize the latest siege technology. We cannot underestimate them. I even suspect that they are planning to cross the Yaruga River and launch a crushing attack."
Queen Meve's hand tightened on her necklace as she heard those words. Crossing the Yaruga would mean an invasion of her United Kingdom of Lyria and Rivia.
"Ha! Are you talking to me about military strategy, Demavend?" Henselt stood up abruptly. "You've never gotten an advantage in our battles so far!"
"Cross the Yaruga? Don't make me laugh! If they don't control the river banks and secure their flanks, Emhyr's supply lines will be exposed. How do they plan to advance quickly or launch cavalry attacks if they can't secure their supplies? By the time their famed cavalry are starving and slaughtering their horses, we'll be repeating the Battle of Sodden Hill. Damn it, I wish they'd try!"
Hearing this, Queen Meve could no longer contain herself and joined the discussion.
"What if the Nilfgaardians don't cross the Yaruga River and continue to wait?" She didn't say much, but only raised a question. "Let's think about it: who is better off for this? Them, or us? Who can wait, and who can't?"
Vizimir II, Meve, and Demavend's eyes fell on Henselt.
Demavend sneered. "Exactly. Emhyr has unified the south, but the north remains divided. As long as the war at the front remains stagnant, discontent can arise at any time in the rear. I'm willing to bet that Henselt will be the first to act."
Faced with this accusation, Henselt was not angry at all, but shrugged his shoulders and smiled maliciously. "If you've already said that, it would be a waste not to live up to your expectations, don't you think?"
When the two kings began to clash, Vizimir II intervened again. "Meve, as always, few words, but accurate. Emhyr has all the time in the world. We don't."
Vizimir then turned to Henselt. "And this is what bothers you, right? You are also one of the people who are troubled by the civil strife. If you really want to solve this problem, then stop talking in anger and disrupting the meeting."
Henselt let out another cold laugh, before narrowing his eyes. But eventually, his expression turned serious.
As for whether what he said before was a disguise or true feelings, the other kings present really couldn't guess.
"I came here today for only one purpose." Henselt said: "The Scoia'tael."
"They are wreaking havoc in Kaedwen. I have captured some and interrogated them. I am convinced that Emhyr is financing them."
"Some of you might think that the Scoia'tael are just a problem for Kaedwen, but if Nilfgaard is involved… Well, that's a different story. In Dol Blathanna there are still free elves, in Mahakam there are dwarves and gnomes, in Brokilon there are dryads, and in Novigrad the non-human population is significant. This could turn into a major civil war."
Vizimir II asked: "So Henselt, your opinion is to first purge the non-human races in the North, and then talk about dealing with Nilfgaard?"
"Absolutely correct."
Finally, Foltest, who had remained silent until now, intervened. "We can't let you do whatever you want. Mahakam is the territory of Temeria, and the dwarves are my subjects."
"Can you command them to fight for you?" Henselt asked, sarcastically.
"At least they pay taxes, lots of taxes." Foltest replied indifferently.
Lann also spoke: "The dryads of Brokilon are not our enemies. They are allied with Cintra, and as far as I understand, there are no dryads in the ranks of the Scoia'tael."
"Of course, I don't deny that the Scoia'tael are a big problem. No one can tolerate a stab in the back while fighting an external enemy. And if the Scoia'tael continue to cause trouble, they will only turn the non-human races that were originally friendly to humans into enemies. This would be a loss for everyone here."
"I am willing to help King Henselt wipe out the Scoia'tael." Lann said: "But we must distinguish between who our enemies are and who our allies are. Allies must be won, enemies must be crushed."
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