CHAPTER 38 - MUTUAL BENEFICIARIES

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Leonardo Bernoulli sighed heavily, leaning back in the cushioned, high-backed chair in the immaculate royal study, stroking his beardless chin in concentration.  Quietly assembling a small army without alerting the populace had proven to be an almost impossible challenge. Massive amounts of coin had been promised to mercenaries to fill out the ranks of the assembling soldiers to allow a sizeable strikeforce to be deployed without displacing too much of the standing army, which would have alerted the resistance to the all too valuable fact that Bernouli knew precisely where they were heading. The force was even now speeding down the coast towards Shaleport, flying plain white flags instead of the usual Verden standards of Verden's naval fleet, under orders to not engage with the rebel forces until the siege of Shaleport had fully commenced. The reinforcements would catch the rebellion by surprise, splitting the focus of their attack and with any luck, destroying the bulk of their force in one decisive battle. All he could do now was pray that the resistance had not discovered his plans. He did not doubt that Stormcliff was lousy with rebel spies, but how high had they infiltrated the palace? That was what kept him up at night.

Of course the resistance were not the only one with spies, and if he could still trust his top source within the resistance, the rebel forces would reach Shaleport in less than three day's time. From what he understood of the traitorous dukes, they would first attempt to convince or coerce the city into joining their cause. The people of Shaleport would almost certainly refuse such demands, ensuing a prolonged siege that could prove costly for the rebellion, and buy time for his secondary force to reach the city.

Bernoulli hoped that crushing the resistance would win him the trust of the average people of Verden. Living his life in the shadows of High King Castius, a deliberate and necessary aspect in his rise to power, had left his name shrouded in obscurity, leaving public opinion of him a completely blank slate. With criers scattered all over Verden proclaiming his appointment as Steward, and weaving tales of his loyalty to the royal family and his 'reluctant' acceptance of the throne, the groundwork had begun. With each victory against the separatist forces, he would appear a stronger leader, a man worthy of following into the next chapter of Verden's history.

  And yet, his men had still not found neither hide nor hair of  Alexander, increasing the risk each day that the young prince would return to claim his father's throne. Prince Nathan also remained unaccounted for and if one missing prince was a potential disaster to his plans of kingship, a second unaccounted-for noble almost certainly spelled the end to his plots. If the brothers found each other in the wilds of Verden, they would make formidable opponents to his newfound reign. His most trusted men were even now scouring the countryside, looking to find and kill the princes, but their efforts had met with limited success. Until the princes were dead, Leonardo Bernoulli could never truly rest.

But as much as thoughts of the princes troubled his waking hours what scared Bernoulli most of all was the reports of dragons. More precisely, it was the lack of dragon sightings that concerned him, for Alexander had told the High King that at least two dragons had been seen by that young man they had rescued. If that boy was to be believed, the dragons had spoken of several others of their kind who had returned from the hazy past, but how anyone could have survived such a close encounter with a stormcrier strained his credulity. If the dragons truly had returned, why were there no rumors of dragon flying throughout the land? It was not as if creatures of that size could travel the length of Verden without drawing the eyes of every man they passed. And what of those men who were supposedly working with the beasts? Traitors to their own race. If they existed they would have to be dealt with eventually.

This accursed civil war was happening at the worst possible time. If all of Verden was not united under a single banner before the Stormcriers made their move then it was of no consequence who sat upon the throne, they would be swept away like the many civilizations that had fallen to their might over the centuries that the dragons ruled Verden. Without a combined response Verden would certainly fall to the dragon's might. If the resistance was not crushed at Shaleport, it could be too late for either side.

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