Eirik tapped his finger on his desk as the man across from him rambled on. This would be so much easier if he could just read the damned reports himself. He didn't have the energy to deal with dozens of people each day all dictating to him between small talk and pleasantries.
The king managed to suppress a flinch as Fiona's hand crept over and laced into his. She gave it an encouraging squeeze and he refocused on the message. Apparently, the queen had begun moving the western armada, preparing for her siege on the Arch Mage's isle. However, the fleet of ships would have to stop at Snaerheim for supplies and Lyra had not informed Jarl Sigeræd.
Eirik tried to remember how many ships were on hand at Stadrhym, once more frustrated by the fact that the exact document he needed was both perfectly filed and on hand but also perfectly useless to him. He considered trying to make an educated guess, but gave up and said with a sigh, "Fiona, would you please retrieve the dock manifest and tell me what ships are currently in port."
His daughter’s fingers pulled away and he heard her rustle through the bookshelves and retrieve the correct file. In a clear voice she listed, "The Empress's Arm, The Sky Treader, The Adalia, The Viatka, and The Sapphire are currently docked."
Eirik nodded in the general direction of his daughter. "Thank you. The Adalia is a cargo ship." He turned back towards the door. "Westen, please see to it that The Adalia is loaded with the necessary supplies and sent as quickly as possible to Snaerheim. Oh, and be sure to tell Lord Dillex that I expect it to be enough and if the armada ends up short handed, it will be on his head."
There was a shuffling as the three or so people at the door bowed and left, hopefully to do as Eirik asked. He listened for Julien, his chief guard, to announce the next visitor but to his relief the door closed.
"Is the queen really going to attack the Arch Mage from the sea?" Fiona asked and Eirik pinched his nose bridge, his fingers sliding along the golden band of colored sea silk that covered his eyes.
"That's what she says anyway," he answered dryly, "although it seems her plans change by the day so I wouldn't put it past her for there to be at least a few false attacks."
"So she might not even use the Duskar ships? Even though they sailed all the way around En?" Fiona sounded shocked but there was also a strain of tired acceptance in her voice which Eirik felt with every fiber of his being. He hated how much she was beginning to sound like him .
"Father, wouldn't the queen need all her mages for an assault on Aziron? Is that why she sent the ships to Snaerheim?" Fiona's voice was calculating and Eirik frowned, wondering what she was thinking.
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"Perhaps, although they would have to stop at Snaerheim anyway. The trip around the southern tip of En just is too long for any of the military vessels to make without resupply. Snaerheim makes a good launching point to Glixja and then from there to Aziron. There aren't very many mages left in Snaerhiem anyway, most have already been sent to the front line. Any that are left are either practically powerless or more valuable safely back in the south."
"Do you mean like mages who can spy on people?" Fiona asked carefully and now Eirik leaned an elbow on the table, resting his head on it and raising an eyebrow at his daughter.
"Why the sudden interest in mages?" His question was tired and his anxiety rose as the small blotches of gold light his eyes could see did nothing to tell him what his daughter was thinking in the growing silence.
"I was just curious since the battle against the Aziron is sure to involve so many mages. I just wasn't sure how the queen would fight so many when we have so few."
It wasn't the truth, but the way her tone lifted reminded him that Julien was still standing in the room, no doubt quietly noting everything that passed between Eirik and his daughter. The king sat back up.
"Don't forget we have mages from Dorvaad."
By instinct he reached out and waved vaguely towards the map he knew was pinned to the wall on his left. He could picture the area labeled 'Dorvaad', the letters inked above where Lyra has sliced through the name 'Dyve'. Lyra had found Hickory when she'd stabilized Dyve and that was a significant turning point for Valhym. The queen's mage was powerful and those who had met the strange man knew that he was her eventual weapon against the Arch Mage.
Eirik suppressed a shudder as he pictured Hickory. When they’d first met, the man had looked over Eirik with such disinterest in his oddly orange eyes. He'd seemed utterly bored with the meetings Lyra blasted through during her brief time back at the capital.
Besides their introduction, the only time Eirik had spoken to Hickory was when he'd ran into him in the hall where the mage had been staring at the portraits in the Hall of Kings. Hickory's snow-white curls, so odd on a man so young, stood out starkly against the dark backdrops of the portraits depicting Eirik’s ancestors.
When Eirik had walked over to see what Hickory was doing, the pure hatred he’d seen on Hickory's face as he stared at the portrait of High King Halfrik and Lady Megthara made Eirik start. He could have sworn Hickory's eyes flashed red as the man'd spat, "It is a shame Valhym allowed such vile blood to soil its throne."
Taken aback, Eirik hadn't had time to respond before Hickory had vanished leaving a cold air in the hall. When Eirik mentioned the incident to Lyra, she'd just laughed and told him to stay away from the mage so he wouldn't 'tempt him into something regrettable'.
"Are there a lot of mages in Dorvaad?" Fiona's question snapped Eirik out of his memories and he stood up waving a hand vaguely.
"Yes, much more than the original Valhym. Enough about mages, gods know we spend enough time thinking about them as it is, let's go get some dinner before we are interrupted by a new crisis."
Fiona led the way, but not before she carefully tucked the dock manifest between her books.