"Humbly, my Prince, I have to agree with Lady Asuna." The Knight, Lucane, urged as he walked at the side of Prince Wales Tudor. "You should be resting right now, just look at how easily you tired today."

Prince Wales, Crown Prince of Albion, scowled at his retainer. "The only thing I tire of is being told that I need rest, Lucane." The Prince tightened his grip on his Knight's offered arm to steady himself. "Every man in this fortress has a duty, and this is part of mine." He looked like he would have said more if a shortness of breath hadn't overtaken him. Well that was hardly surprising, having been brought back from the brink of death, and with only one good lung for the time being.

Asuna knew he was pushing himself too hard, but she had enough experience with stubborn streaks to know that saying it wouldn't do any good. At her side, Kirito rolled his eyes in disbelief. Their destination wasn't much further now, just around the curve of this hallway, the Offices of the Fortress Commander.

When they arrived, they found King James and a pair of his Knights as well as one of the King's advisers, a man named Paris, and the young Tristanian Nobleman who had arrived along with the treacherous Viscount, waiting for them. Asuna didn't miss the way that Kirito's eyes narrowed upon seeing Guiche. She'd only met the blonde boy in passing, but something about him seemed to set Kirito on edge. It was a little strange, if he was dangerous, she was sure Kirito would have done something about him.

The King of Albion, never happy to see Asuna or any of the other Faeries, was caught between a smile and a frown as he saw his son in her company. After Wales had been taken to the infirmary, the healers struggling to keep his heart beating, the King had refused to leave his son's bedside until he was out of critical condition. For all of his other faults, King James really did love his son.

"Father." Wales greeted, standing a little straighter and taking his hand from Lucane's side to approach on his own. He was shaky on his feet, like an old man, but both Lucane and Kirito were ready to catch him if he fell.

The King bowed his head, "Wales, my son." His eyes narrowed as he looked to Asuna. "And Lady Asuna, an honor as always." He bit off with the bare minimum of courtesy. Asuna gave a small curtsy in reply, a gesture that she did her best to make look as sincere as possible. The King gave a harumph and gestured to the oak double doors of the office. "Your allies are scheduled to contact us at any time, are they not?"

"Lady Alicia said she was going to be later tonight than she was yesterday. She said the Faeries were going to try something different." 'Midori' explained casually as she walked up to the King. It seemed Kirito had been right to keep his disguise up around King James. "It shouldn't be long now."

The King turned back to Wales. "You should have rested before this my son."

"And risk sleeping through it?" Wales snorted softly. Despite his bravado, there were rings beneath his eyes. Even magic couldn't heal everything, and the Prince had long since exhausted himself. "I'd take little chance of that."

King James lead them into the Office without further comment, his Knights standing guard at the doors. The inside of the office was spacious, extremely so, reminding Asuna of the Headquarters of the Knights of Blood back in Aincrad. The ceiling arched up high above their heads, supported by six, thick stone columns. The room's previous occupant had left the office luxuriously decorated with rich tapestries and hardwood furniture.

A space had been cleared at the middle of the room for the Moonlight Mirror spell to be activated and a long table had been set out with chairs for everyone. If not for the King, Asuna would have laughed. Who would have ever thought of using magic for teleconferencing?

King James took the seat at the center of the table, flanked by Paris and his son. Lucane quickly took the remaining seat beside Wales, leaving Guiche to take the end seat while Asuna and Kirito sat on the King's opposite side. The King sat, arms crossed, listening intently as Paris commented on something that Asuna couldn't quite make out, even with her acute hearing. They weren't left waiting long.

Asuna sat up in her chair, her eyes drawn to a spot in the air before the table where motes of light were beginning to collect. The tiny pinpoints rapidly coalesced and expanded into a bright silver ovoid, bordered in gold, like the evil witch's magic mirror. This was the long rang communication's spell Moonlight Mirror. Originally created as a novel method for players to communicate over long distances in the game world of ALfheim Online, it was now their sole link with their allies in Tristain.

Beneath the table, Asuna gave Kirito's hand a quick squeeze as the light poring from the mirror began to fade, revealing the people standing on the other side. Asuna heard a sharp intake of breath and looked over to see Guiche sitting rigidly straight in his seat.

Looking back to the mirror, Asuna found herself facing a small delegation. Unlike the last time, the energetic cat girl, Alicia Rue, was nowhere in sight. "Lord Mortimer." Kirito said, looking straight at a red haired man whose pointed ears identified him as a Faerie. His features were young but severe, pale skinned, with shoulder length red hair, and cold red eyes. His only acknowledgment that Kirito had spoken was a small nod of his head.

The other two men were humans, definitely mage's based on their dress. The first was a stern looking man, gray haired, with dark whiskers. He was dressed in a coat that was reminiscent of the one favored by Wales and some of the officers who commanded the Eagle.

The second man was taller and more slenderly built, his gray hair was still shot with gold, and even though he was certainly older, he would still have been considered quite handsome. In fact, Asuna noted a distinct similarity too . . . She glanced across the table to where Guiche was fidgeting anxiously.

"King James." The whiskered man bowed slightly. "I am Count Eren La Ramee, Admiral of Tristain's air fleet. It is an honor to meet with you, your Majesty. I do hope that we are coming across clearly."

Looking past the men, Asuna could see tall windows back lit by the twin moons. They weren't on a ship, in fact, they looked to be in a mansion. But how was that supposed to work? Kirito had mentioned that the moonlight mirror had a limited range, even at night. Her explanation came a moment later as a familiar tail swished into view out of the corner of the mirror.

"Lady Alicia, if you would please." La Ramee admonished to someone out of view.

"Neh? Oh, sorry, this takes a lot of concentration." The Cait Syth announced, voice sounding slightly nearer than that of the Count.

"A relay, that's actually pretty clever." Kirito murmured softly to himself.

Asuna got it after a moment of thought. If one Moonlight Mirror didn't have the range to reach from Tristain to Albion, then maybe two, or more, could do the job. That had been the reasoning that Alicia had given them the night before, but Asuna had simply expected that to mean that they would get an answer back the same night. Instead, it appeared that the Faeries of ALfheim had been able to use the mirrors themselves as relays, pointing one mirror at the next until the last mirror was in range of its destination. Kirito was right, it was a pretty clever solution.

If King James thought so, or even cared, he showed no sign of it. In fact, he looked pleased that he didn't have to continue talking to Alicia. "We can hear and see you well enough" The King replied. "Count La Ramee, what matters do you have to report to us?"

The Count didn't answer immediately, in fact, for a moment, he looked hesitant. "Your Majesty, as always, time is of the essence in the these communications, our allies cannot maintain this spell for long. We have a plan in the works. We wish to know if you have any information on the forces stationed at York."

"York?" The King was left momentarily speechless. "Why the devil do you need to know about the forces at York?"

"So that we may annihilate them." The red haired Faerie said without a hint of hesitation or mercy, causing the King, Prince Wales, and Paris to recoil in shock. Asuna had to admit, from everything Kirito had said about the Lord of the Salamanders, he certainly didn't disappoint. Still, she wondered if he really understood what he was saying.

"Annihilate them? I fear it would be Tristain's fleet that would be destroyed." The King shook his head. "If this some form of Faerie joke?" He asked with a hint of bitter humor.

The red haired man gave a small wave of his hand. "I assure you King James, that this is no joke. Allow me to introduce myself, I am . . ."

"Lord Mortimer of the Salamanders." King James concluded, receiving a frown from Lord Mortimer. "Yes, I already heard. Even so, Miss Midori has told me enough about the personalities of you Fae that I would think there's nobody else you might be."

"Then knowing me, you must also know I have something of a reputation." Lord Mortimer said, eyes narrowing. "Without going into details, we've spent most of this evening devising a plan that we believe will work to shatter the blockade around Newcastle and open a corridor for an evacuation. But in order to do so, we need to remove the battle fleet at York from the equation."

The gray and blonde man on the opposite side of Count La Ramee grinned boyishly. "Forgive us King James, but we're going to have to sink a portion of your Kingdom's rather fine fleet."

"General Belgen de Gramont." King James sighed as he regarded the man. Gramont? Asuna looked back to Guiche who was still starring at the man. Well that confirmed it then. "It's been quite some time since last we met."

"Over a decade I do believe." The General bowed humbly.

"And I don't suppose you approve of whatever madness these Faeries have devised?" The King waved a hand vaguely towards Lord Mortimer. The King's attitude was really starting to wear on Asuna's last remaining nerve. If she'd felt this way two nights ago, she might have punched him before Caramella had the chance, and probably a lot harder.

General Gramont smiled as he looked up from his bow. "Oh, I assure you I approve of every part of it, what as seeing that I devised around a third of it myself." The General boasted proudly. "Now then, can you, or can you not, give us an estimate of the forces in York? This entire plan will hinge on knowing what we go to face."

King James leaned back in his seat, a frown pulling at his face. He seemed to be weighing General Gramont's words, and there was a coldly calculating look in his eyes, like a computer shuffling game stats to determine a winner. He looked over to Paris, the old adviser giving only an apologetic shrug, and then to his son who nodded seriously.

"Certainly we would if only we could." The King said at last, a hand rose to his temple as he spoke. "Unfortunately, the Rebels had proven damnably good at rooting out our loyal informants beyond the walls of Newcastle. But a month ago we could have told you easily, but to date . . . " The King sighed in resignation, forced to tally his losses for the first time in a long time. "My son was the last Royalist to be in York and that was over a week ago."

"I also departed on the heels of a gunpowder explosion, courtesy of Lady Asuna and her troop." Wales added to his father's assessment. "If there is one competent man in all of York, the defenses will have been reinforced and more ships brought up to bolster the squadron stationed there. However, how many, I cannot say."

The table fell silent. If they needed to know the number of ships in York, then it meant somebody was going to have sneak back past the siege, infiltrate the City, and then make it back as soon as possible. Asuna gave Kirito a worried look, he was already thinking the same thing, and knowing him, he'd volunteer in a heartbeat.

"Six frigates on patrol or in docks. Seven third raters, two second raters, and one first rater ship of the line which I do believe was the Royal Sovereign. There were signs of Dragon Knights flying air patrols over the city, no more than six at a time, which probably means two full squadrons on garrison duty if they were maintaining standard rotations. Also, the forts along the cliffs were notably lacking in heavy cannons. I would fathom most of those were moved to support the siege or mounted to ships in preparation for storming Newcastle."

Every eye at the table, and on the other side of the mirror turned to the young man sitting beside Lucane. "What?" Guiche de Gramont looked aghast. "Ah, begging your pardon, your Majesty!"

"Mister Gramont, how do you know all of that?" Prince Wales asked.

Kirito nodded in agreement. "That's right, you don't know anything."

Guiche huffed at the insult. "I'll have you know, that as war is looming between Albion and the Continent, I thought it prudent to examine the Port when we were coming in to dock. After all, there's no telling how well the Rebels have managed to maintain and repair their captured ships. That could be valuable intelligence when we returned to Tristain!" General Gramont nodded his head in approval.

"Guiche, it's valuable intelligence right now." Kirito sighed.

Still, the Royal Sovereign." Prince Wales half rose from his seat. "Are you sure? Absolutely certain that ship is in York?"

Guiche looked suddenly nervous to be pressed for answers by Royalty. "I . . . well . . . She was certainly a first rater, and that gilding on her stern was has oft been mentioned in descriptions. She seemed to be carrying a few extra guns as well."

"I should think so." Wales sat back down, he seemed strangely frustrated. "If that's the case, then now you know. The Royalists have stationed their flagship in York for good measure. Is that all you need to know?"

"Yes, that is quite enough." Lord Mortimer answered, like the King, his mind was already churning over what he had just heard. "In which case, there is but one other matter to deal with. Without going into details, this plan depends a great deal on the element of surprise. We need some way to get a ship over the Port without alerting the Rebels."

"Over the port?" Wales asked curiously. "Are you planning to bomb them?"

The three men exchanged looks, Lord Mortimer shrugged. "Something like that. We need to know of any codes or identification signals so that we can close on the port without rousing suspicion."

"I'm afraid that there is no help for that." Wales answered after a moment of thought. "The Rebels keep a careful list of trusted vessels and the docking signals are changed regularly. You would need the help of one of the Captains." The Prince's lips twitched in a small smile. "Fortunately, if you can find him, I know just the man. Tell me . . . Do you know if my Cousin Emily is well?"

* * *

"At this point in the operation, having completed our objectives, the frigate squadrons will withdraw ahead of the battle line. The rear of our formation will be composed of our heavy combatants and Dragon Knights squadrons to deter pursuit." Count La Ramee finished, pocketing his wand and turning his attention to the Queen and Cardinal Mazarin.

Henrietta had no experience in warfare, her only training in battle were a few spells for self defense taught to her by members of her bodyguard detachment, but even so, she could almost instinctively tell that this plan was both very bold and very dangerous. There were many assumptions, many unknowns, both in the quality of the Rebel forces and in the quality of their own allies. At the same time, she could see by the way that Count La Ramee and Baron Gramont argued for it, that the rewards would be equally great if it succeeded.

"You vouch for this plan, Count La Ramee?" Cardinal Mazarin asked, the Cardinal had never looked so old, and Henrietta could understand perfectly why.

As her Regent, the Cardinal was used to making difficult decisions on behalf of her and Tristain. Even in the alliance to Germania he had attempted to safeguard both Henrietta's own well being and that of the Kingdom. Now, once again, he was confronted by a difficult decision. Not for the first time, Henrietta felt guilty. Even now, she was laying her burdens at his feet, she was hiding because she lacked the strength to lead.

"Truthfully?" La Ramee asked as he studied the map that had been laid out on a table in the Throne room.

Covered in magically activated ink and brass force markers that moved about on their own like miniature golems, the presentation made it all seem so clean and elegant, but if Baron Gramont was to be believed, their time devising it the night before had been anything but. All three men and the Duchess de la Valliere appeared to have gotten little sleep. Well, that was the same for all of them. Henrietta hadn't slept well even when Mazarin and her mother insisted that she rest, and the same seemed to be true even for Sakuya, who while not quite disheveled, looked notably wilted this morning.

"I think that this is a terrible option." Both Lord Mortimer and Baron Gramont seemed ready to speak out as Ramee continued. "But it is the least terrible of many terrible options. Put simply, if this plan is to succeed, it will require over half of Tristain's entire fleet. Which means if it fails . . ."

"The Kingdom will be left defenseless." Cardinal Mazarin finished without further prompting.

Count La Ramee nodded in agreement with the Cardinal's assessment. "It is simple fact. Tristain lacks the ships and manpower to defend against a dedicated incursion by Albion. Unless the political situation improves drastically within the next month and we can form a modified defensive pact with Germania, then fighting a purely defensive war will be . . . untenable."

Untenable. That was a euphemism if ever Henrietta had heard one. "Even so, we do have a more conventional defensive plan in place if the Crown so decides." La Ramee took a deep breath, it was the sort of breath that came before a man bet his entire fortunes. "But if this plan succeeds, even partly, we will steal the initiative from Albion and buy ourselves valuable time, if it succeeds in full, well . . . We might just stand a chance."

"And what is your opinion of this, Karin?" Queen Marianne asked the Duchess de la Valliere.

The Duchess almost smiled as she answered. "It is as La Ramee has already said, immensely reckless."

"Then you disapprove?" Marianne asked.

Shockingly, the Duchess shook her head. "On the contrary. If we are going to fight, then we will never again have a better chance of success. The Rebels have not yet consolidated, their fleet is scattered across the White Isle, and their forces, save for those around Newcastle, are likely at a low state of readiness while their leaders plan their next move. I think we should make the most of it."

"Are you sure, Karin? It seems rather overly orchestrated." The Queen observed. "Didn't you once tell me that a complicated plan is usually a sign of poor strategy?" Lord Mortimer looked offended at this, but a glare from the Lady of the Sylphs silenced him before he could speak.

"Not quite." The Duchess elaborated. "A complex plan that relies on one's enemy acting as one expects is doubtless doomed to failure, it will lack flexibility. A plan that allows for many outcomes, such as this one, can be adapted in the field. See here?" The Duchess pointed to the map. "Even if we fail to sink the forces at York, we can delay their launch long enough to ensure the success of the operation at Newcastle. And if the Newcastle forces cannot breach the blockade, they need merely await reinforcements from the York detachment." Henrietta felt a little surprised, the Duchess seemed to be speaking with a great deal of experience, of course, now that Henrietta recalled, she had mentioned being a Chevalier. "There are also many ways for this operation to succeed and only one way for it to fail, that is to say, with the annihilation of our own forces."

"We also have several advantages that the Rebels will be ill equipped to counter." Lord Mortimer stepped in. "The Rebels will not expect us to be able to communicate instantaneously over long distances, nor will they be equipped to deal with mages that possess our mobility on the battlefield." Well, it sounded convincing enough to Henrietta, but . . .

"That is what concerns me about this plan." Mazarin stated. "Your soldiers were craftsmen and students not too long ago. This plan is contingent on them performing their role to the letter. Can you guarantee that they can fight? Can you guarantee that they can kill?"

"I agree with the Cardinal." Lady Sakuya announced her position. "The people under our charge are not soldiers, even the mob patrols. They can't be relied upon for a mission like this. Sending messengers and mages to provide communications and support is one thing. But a strike force? Assault teams? We can help you, we cannot fight a war for you. Certainly not without more time to train and prepare."

Mortimer didn't answer at once, it was clear that he had given this some thought, he wasn't surprised by the question. But there was world of difference between coming to a decision and voicing it openly. In the end he didn't have to, the Lady of the Spriggans did it for him.

"Well, you're right about one thing." Morgiana said, taking up a look of concentration. "Most of us are raw as hell. Those Dragon Knight recruits we saw drilling the other day are probably more ready to see battle than most of us will ever be. But that doesn't matter because we'd have to mess up pretty badly for our part in this to turn into a straight up fight. As for the killing . . ." For a blink of an eye, the Spriggan's relaxed smile vanished, her face grew neutral, lips tracing a thin, flat line. "Well, as for the killing, some of us have the right stuff, and we're doing everything we can to be sure that we bring them along for this."

"Our forces may also be necessary to check any of the Rebels own . . . acquired assets." Lord Mortimer said, his cold veneer falling for a moment, the man looked almost ill. Henrietta couldn't blame him, her stomach turned at the very thought of what had been reported.

There was a Necromancer in the ranks of the rebel army, and a powerful one at that. The very vilest form of a water mage.

Their only consolation was that his power was being used sparingly, though it was unclear if this was related to the exact nature of the undead that were being created. The fact that the undead that had been encountered had exhibited complex behavior and a high level of cognition was grave cause for concern. Henrietta, having access to the Royal archives for her own studies, knew that it was possible to create a lifelike zombie. Such abominations, if created from a freshly dead corpse and manipulated by a skilled necromancer, could even imitate their living selves for a brief time after death, functioning as a sort of flesh golem under the control of their Necromancer Puppeteer.

But there were limits to this magic. Even under powerful preservation spells, an undead's body could not heal and would continue to brake down as the minor damage of constant activity began to accumulate. The animating magic also tended to interfere with any spells of permanence cast on the body.

Over time, usually no more than a day or two, the previously lifelike zombie's faculties would begin to deteriorate gradually, starting with the ability to access higher memories and skills, then fine motor control, sensory acuity, and gross motor control. Barring the very highest levels of preservation magic, the undead would soon be reduced to a shambling mass of rotting flesh capable of obeying only crude instructions and fooling nobody as to its true nature.

However, from the testimony given by the Fae in Albion, as well as the lone Royalist survivor of the encounter, the reanimated Faeries had shown not the slightest hint of decay almost a week after their deaths. Their had also been no signs of a controlling mage within close proximity. It could simply be that the Royalists were taking care to reanimate their preserved Faeries a few at a time so as to 'stretch their supply', Henrietta thought with distaste. Or it could be the sign of an exceptionally powerful Necromancer, perhaps even a high level square mage. Either case was horrifying and both General Gramont and Lord Mortimer had emphasized the deployment of Salamanders and fire mages to ensure the hasty incineration of any fallen soldiers and to give any undead that were encountered the final peace of oblivion.

The revelation had also decided something else. It had eliminated all possibility of negotiation with the Rebels. Cromwell had made himself a twice damned heretic. Cardinal Mazarin already intended to forward this news through his contacts to the highest offices of the Church itself. There was hope that the Holy Father would finally be spurred to action by the news. But regardless, it would take time, time for the Church to investigate the allegations, time for Romalia to enter the fray, time that Tristain did not have.

The Cardinal gauged Morgiana's response and then nodded reluctantly. "Then there is only one last question . . . Is this what you want, Princess?" Mazarin had turned to her now.