#
Trigorah stood in the throne room, her eyes scanning tapestries and portraits. Her elfish lineage had afforded her a very long life. She turned her eyes to the portrait of King Erdrick II. It was under his rule that she had begun her military career. He had blessed the creation of the Elites. He had even been the one to promote her to the level of general. He had been a great man. Trigorah had seen his son grow, and was present at the coronation. That was many years ago.
There were footsteps behind her. Trigorah turned, and swiftly dropped to one knee, head bowed.
"Your Imperial and Royal Majesty," she uttered.
"Rise, and dispense with the titles," the king replied wearily.
General Teloran stood. There was a time when it would have been unthinkable to be surprised by the appearance of a king. He should have been preceded by fanfare, by a royal procession. In the beginning, he was. Alas, as the years passed and the war marched on, the king had become less and less a leader. It was as though he shared the plight of his land. The decades of war had steadily drained them both of life and spirit. Now he was a withered husk of a man. When not attending to the affairs his people, King Erdrick III paced the halls of his nearly empty castle. His eyes had a faded, distant quality. The eyes of a man who had done things that could not be undone.
"Awaiting General Bagu, no doubt?" the king asked as he settled down into the throne.
"I am," the general replied.
The king nodded.
"He has this conflict firmly in hand, it would appear," he said.
"Not as firmly as he might, but surely you are aware," Trigorah answered.
"Bagu has not seen fit to involve me in his actions in some time. Even my seal and signature, which he had so meticulously seen applied to each order and dispatch, has not been requested in months," he explained. "It was my hope that perhaps his--"
The door to Bagu's chamber opened and his voice issued forth.
"General Teloran, step inside, please," Bagu requested.
"General, the king was speaking," Trigorah stated.
"Your Majesty, the matter is of great importance," said Bagu.
"Go. The war comes first. Always, the war comes first," the king said.
Trigorah reluctantly stepped through the door and closed it behind her. Bagu was seated at his desk. His normally calm and collected expression was tempered with the tiniest hint of impatience and concern.
"I must object to your behavior in the presence of the king," said Trigorah. She was in no position to issue a reprimand, but nonetheless her tone carried a sting.
"Noted. What news have you of the girl?" he demanded.
"She has not left the cave of the beast, but I am confident that she is still alive," Trigorah explained.
"What possible source can you have for such confidence?" Bagu asked.
"She has shown herself to be resourceful, intelligent, and resilient. Furthermore, the assassin is with her. If he wishes her to be alive, she shall be alive," Trigorah explained.
"Epidime has been unable to detect her. He has been known to track targets to their graves and beyond," Bagu reminded her.
"Epidime is skilled, there can be no arguing that. However, he is not infallible. With all due respect to him as a fellow general, he is blind of his own shortcomings," she replied.
"And the sword?" he asked.
"The Red Shadow would not have been so foolish as to bring it with him. He knows we seek him, as well as the girl and the sword. The scoundrel is wise enough not to place all of our targets such that they may be gathered in a single stroke," she reasoned. "No, he would have concealed it. That said, if he does not wish it found, it will not be found."
General Bagu steepled his fingers once more and pressed them to his lips.
"You found the assassin's go-between once. You shall find him again. When you do, you will secure the sword and bring it to me," he decreed. "I sincerely doubt that this Myranda still lives, but see to it that your men are vigilant. Important times are at hand and we cannot afford to be caught by surprise."
"General, if I may make a suggestion . . ." Trigorah attempted.
"You may not. You have your orders. If you wish ever to be returned to battlefront command, I suggest you follow them," he hissed.
"As you wish," she replied.
General Trigorah bit her tongue and pulled open the door of the office. As she marched through the throne room, she looked to the king one last time. The old man's gaze, a knowing look of defeat, caught hers briefly. Trigorah looked away. She had a task at hand. However difficult, however misguided, she had a job to do. It was her duty to succeed. And succeed she would.