What is war?

Varsis rode Falor, inspecting his troops as they camped on a hillside just outside of Barad. The city had fallen to the Makini, but there was simply no room within for thirty thousand soldiers.

For Varsis’ army had grown. Hisa had given him troops in the past months faster than old ones had died, far faster. And his army, North Army, was not the only army of the Makini. In the South, there was another army of comparable size, under the command of Areveli.

War is power.

But not all was good for the forces of the Makini. The eastern two-thirds of Vedil lands were controlled by those loyal to the Council, but for the far west…

The Minsu had finally arrived, and while their numbers were too few to launch a counter attack, they had slowed down the Makini advance drastically.

War is tedium.

For the past month, nothing had happened in the war to tip the balance, one way or another. From his main camp around Barad, Varsis often enough struck out against the forces of Ehajdon, but logistics always forced him to retreat.

In the south, Areveli was having more success. The forces arrayed against him there were more unified, but, as such, easier to hunt down and disband. In the north, Varsis had to deal with guerrillas, and tactics that seemed almost terrorist in nature.

He was bogged down against an opposing force he thought was no more than a tenth the size of his army

War is tactics.

In recent weeks, Varsis wondered if his soldiers could be put to better use elsewhere. He thought a third of his forces would be able to hold onto the Northern Vedil occupied territories just as well.

And with twenty thousand soldiers at his back, who knew what he could do?

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But Varsis’ soldiers had been ordered to remain in place and use standard tactics, even against an enemy that made standard tactics almost ineffective.

War is confusion.

Varsis’ army grew more massive with each passing day, with new recruits and conscripts streaming in, but he could make little use of his manpower.

Varsis dismounted Falor, and let his horse be taken away by an aide. He headed to his personal tent. He had little to do, and so he thought it best to get to sleep early, in case something happened the next morning.

Just outside the opening to his tent stood Eton.

Eton was always a quandary. While the Council had informed Varsis that Eton was fully under control, Eton came and went has he pleased, sometimes helping in battle, and sometimes being mysteriously gone when Varsis could have used him.

War is uncertainty.

“What are you doing here?” Varsis asked the demon.

“Doing what I do,” said the thing that looked like a short little man. “I come bearing a message.”

“A message from whom?”

“From the higher powers, of course.” Eton laughed, in a way that was more of a high pitched squeak than anything else.

“And who are these higher powers?”

“The Council. Your darling mother, the esteemed Councilwoman Hisa.”

“And what is the message?”

“Take twenty thousand of your troops, and conquer Asan Paril.”

The statement was so ridiculous, Varsis nearly laughed out loud. He could take Asan Paril with twenty thousand troops, but the statement still made no sense. There was no possible way the Council, with its forces already pitted against the Vedil and the Minsu, wanted to attack another party.

And, if Asan Paril fell, its proclaimed neutrality ignored, that might provoke other Houses to side against the Makini.

“I do believe you are lying, demon.”

Eton shrugged. “Believe what you will. You’ll receive confirmation of this, soon enough.”

And Eton walked away.

As if on cue, a messenger came running up to Varsis, with a sealed circular container, the kind that always contained messages from the Council.

Varsis took the container, ripped open the seal, took out the scroll within, and tossed the container to the ground, which the messenger quickly picked up.

Varsis read out loud.

The Council of the Makini herby orders the General Varsis to take twenty thousand of his troops, and to siege and capture the city of Asan Paril with all due haste.

Varsis looked up at the messenger, who had heard all. “What do you think of this?” he growled at the boy, who had remained, and had thus heard all.

“I…I don’t know sir.”

Varsis’ mind raced, trying to determine if this order was somehow faked.

But he knew that was impossible. There were too many safeguards in place.

Varsis sighed. “Call my captains here,” he told the messenger boy. “I’m going to need to talk to them.”

War is insanity.