The Way Into Chaos by Harry Connolly

faster. I hunted bear in the Furrows with Kellin Pendell. Bears are strong and fast, but these are swifter and more economical in their movements, and they feel denser. Like a big cat.”
    “But they look like men.”  
    “If men had hands where their feet should be,” Lar said. “And fur. And fangs.”
    “So they’re animals,” Gerrit said. “It sounds like what you need is a hunting party, not an army.”
    “What we need is information,” Lar said. “How can we defeat this enemy without knowing more about it? What happened on the other side of the portal? Is there another way to get through it to seek out the Evening People and discover why they did this, if it was indeed their plan? Can we close the portal early?”
    Those words made Cazia’s damp skin prickle. Yes, she wanted to shout. Yes, this is exactly right.
    But Commander Gerrit scowled and shook his head. “The best way to learn about an enemy is to ram a spear into his belly and watch how he dies. If the spear misses, then the sword, or the torch. We learn best through battle. I’m sorry, my prince, but this is the honest fact of it.”
    In a low voice, Stoneface said, “You are not addressing a prince, Ranlin.”
    Gerrit opened his mouth, then shut it. Lar was standing, so the commander stood and bowed low. “Forgive me, my king, but these old gears spin slowly; that’s why I’m hunkered down in this fortress rather than out in the field, commanding troops. But you have my service, and my loyalty, too, for whatever good it will do you. I swear on it, just as I swore to your father.”
    “Thank you, Commander Gerrit. I will not officially be the king until I am crowned, but until then--and after--I welcome honest counsel.”
    “May I offer more?”
    “Please do, and reclaim your seat.”
    “I’ll stand, thank you, my king. You should sit while your men stand, and you must command them, not ask with a please or an if you would . No one will believe you a strong king unless you actually rule over them. If you would retain the throne, you must use the power it grants.”
    Col’s hand tightened on Cazia’s arm and Tyr Treygar pushed back his chair to stand, his mouth twisted with embarrassment. Lar waved at him to stay where he was. “You make sense, commander, but those injured while protecting me may rest in my presence.”
    “What do you mean, retain the throne ?” her brother asked, his voice sharp.
    “Scholar, priest, trader, explorer,” Gerrit said, “these are the occupations of princes, of younger brothers who will never perch upon a throne. The Tyrs pledge their armies and turn over their taxes to warrior-kings, and even then they do it grudgingly, with the knowledge that they must pay or face the king’s spears. That’s how your father nearly died.” Gerrit stared at Lar intently. “Freewell had sent only half his summer duty, and King Ellifer stopped at Kirlik Witt’s lands to commandeer a few extra fleet squads when he suddenly found himself surrounded by spear points. Luckily, Freewell wanted to use his own marriage to your Aunt Ulia to claim the throne for himself and his children, and she forbade his murder.”
    Cazia had heard this story from Lar years ago--no one else would even speak of it.  
    Lar said, “My father spared Freewell’s life, too, in the end.”
    The commander and Stoneface looked at each other, and Cazia knew there was a history there that even Lar didn’t understand. “For his reasons,” Gerrit continued, “he did, although Freewell fights on the Durdric Frontier now, standing off near-constant raids. But my point is that my father rode to the King’s defense because he respected the man. Yes, he’d sworn an oath to the throne. Yes, Freewell had raided Gerrit and Finstel lands along with his Witt and Bendertuk allies.” He glanced at Tejohn as he said this, but Stoneface stared resolutely at the tabletop. “Yes, Freewell would have been the worst king since Edrl Spearshaker. But would the