“How do you propose to take the city?” Greyfriar asked.
Anhalt turned on him. “No! Do not even ask! This matter is closed.”
Greyfriar's cold, mirrored glasses regarded him. “We can no more control her now than we could before she was empress. She will do as she pleases the moment we turn away. It's better to be at her side protecting her.”
Anhalt's fists trembled at his side. “I beg of you, Your Majesty, don't be so foolish.”
Adele stepped up to her former protector, her voice softening. “My dear colonel,” his old rank an endearment rather than a criticism, “I am no longer a silly girl playing at games. I have the ability to break this stalemate and I intend to use it. I can save lives here and now.”
There was a knock on the door and Adele gave permission to enter, eager for an interruption. Captain Hariri swept into the small room, his face beaming. Clearly, he was happy to be back in the thick of action.
“The supplies have been unloaded and secured,” he said with a bow. “Your special diversion is being readied, my lady.”
“Excellent.” Adele turned back to Greyfriar and Anhalt, her eyes sparking with mischief. “Gentlemen, I didn't come alone.”
“EACH OF YOU must kill ten of them.”
Flay's order spread through the gathered vampire packs in a hissing whisper that, if the humans at St. Etienne could hear, sounded like wind in the desiccated night-shrouded trees. There was much excited chatter and cackling as the horde shifted restlessly waiting for the command to attack.
Flay was tall and pale with long black hair braided straight down her back. She exuded strength, with a fury that seemed barely contained by her long scarlet frock coat and buff knee breeches. As was typical, she was bare breasted under the unbuttoned woolen coat. She pointed a long finger at her counterpart, the war chief from Lyon, Murrd. “Take four of your packs and come at the enemy from the south. I will storm their north with the main force.”
Murrd nodded, his bald head shining in the night.
“Primary targets in this attack are the beasts. Horses. Oxen. Kill them and the humans are hamstrung. They have some mechanical wagons, but not enough to carry all their large guns and their food. Airships should be damaged on the way out only. Do not be distracted by them. We will destroy them in time.”
“Yes,” said Chambrai, the Lyonnaise sub–war chief, with a hint of mockery. “Flay will use her human troops to fight their airships.”
Flay moved swiftly and caught Chambrai by the throat. In a spray of blood, the young Lyonnaise dropped dead. The packs froze in surprise. The Lyon vampires stood gaping at the body of their colleague, and then turned to Murrd for reaction. Flay went back slowly without apparent concern, content with her response to an underling's slur. She had no intention of letting some little cur from Lyon make snide comments about her because she had once been commanded, against her will, to lead the fanatical human Undead.
Murrd looked at his deceased lieutenant and nodded to Flay. “We're ready, War Chief.”
“Excellent,” said Flay. “You are also tasked with striking the center of the city. If you can locate the human war chiefs, kill them. Take out all the large guns you can. We will spread across the front and kill. Now, go.”
Several Lyonnaise packs lifted into the night air with their chief.
Flay waited for them to vanish into the starry sky. It was a cold and breezy night. She could hear rustling and voices from the Equatorian camp beyond a low rise.
Flay had known the humans' war strategy from the beginning thanks to Cesare's spy in Alexandria, and she had authored the counter-tactics. First, the vampires had sent the Undead to damage the port facilities at Marseilles to limit the number of troops and weapons that the humans could pour into the battlefield in the opening months of the offensive. Flay did not harry the humans' landing, knowing the Equatorians would be eager to gain ground before winter set in. She lulled them into a sense of ease with every uncontested mile they marched, and even allowed them to take St. Etienne with token resistance.
Now, Flay had surrounded the sadly unprepared Equatorians with the full force of the Lyonnaise packs, along with St. Etienne reserves and a British spearhead. As soon as she had obliterated the army at St. Etienne, she would crush the Equatorians faltering at Grenoble. Flay would suffocate the grand Equatorian invasion in the mouth of the Rhone Valley, and Cesare would voice his praise.
Blood would spill.
Flay screeched and rose. The packs followed, filling the sky with thousands. She loved the sound of the wind fluttering the clothes of vampires around her. She hadn't led an army so large since the Great Killing. Since the slaughter of Ireland. Since the battles beside Prince Gareth.