After Chayle finished his report, the eldest among the August Council of Demas spoke first. “Where is the High Marshall? Why doesn’t he bring such important news himself?”

“He did not want to bother you with trivial details, Primus.”

A zephyr of outraged murmurs wound its way around the room.

“I hardly consider an army at our borders a trivial matter, Commander.”

“Indeed.” Chayle’s bow hid his smile.

When Chayle rejoined the former High Marshall of Demas, a goblet of wine was waiting for him, which he received gratefully.

“They accepted your folly without question never thinking that you were leading the opposing army. As you expected I am to command the legions in your place. Traitor.” Chayle laughed.

“I knew those fools would only see what they wanted. Now we command both armies. I’ll take my troops through the high passes.” The former High Marshall tapped the map twice. “Leave these places open and the city will be ours by summer. Let’s hope that gives us enough time to prepare for the real war.”