“In essence,” Robart grumbled. “The magnetic anomalies of Nexus make it difficult to build any permanent deployment structures. We are forced to drop supplies and troops from orbit via shuttles. Clan Nuan has the only functional gravity tube on the planet, which means they can transport goods and personnel in relative safety.”

I had taken a gravity tube once. It was an enormous elevator that stretched from orbit to the surface and traveled at supersonic speed. The science behind it was magic and riding it almost made me throw up.

“This is why Nuan Cee is seeking peace,” Arland explained. “The Nexus’ main value is in the deposits of Kuyo, the liquid mineral we require for our continued war effort. It’s heavy. It’s hard to mine and harder to transport. The merchants wish to make money on the shipments of Kuyo from Nexus. They know we’ll be forced to use their facilities.”

And knowing Nuan Cee, he would count every day he wasn’t charging the Horde and Holy Anocracy an outrageous tariff as the day he lost money.

“We tried to overtake the gravity tube a few times, but we failed,” Odalon said.

“They have Turan Adin,” Robart said, his face grim.

The three vampires paused.

“Who or what is Turan Adin?” I asked.

“Turan Adin is a creature of war,” Robart said and drank some of his mint tea. “He breathes and lives battle. Slaughter runs in his veins. The Nexus was settled almost twenty years ago in Nexus time and he has been there since the very beginning. He is the rassa in the red grass, the shirar in the deep water. The demon of that hell.”

“We don’t know where the merchants found him,” Arland said. “We don’t even know what he is. But he’s incorruptible and indestructible. He has ran their mercenary army for the past two decades. He learns, he adapts, he never tires.”

“But as things stand, both you and the Horde can mine Kuyo to use for your military needs?” I asked.

“Yes,” Arland answered.

“Then why not just let things stand as they are?” I asked.

Robart stared at me. “You are not a vampire. You are not a knight.”

Arland put his hand over his face.

“Then help me understand,” I said.

“The land that the Horde holds is stained with our blood,” Robart said, his voice barely controlled. “Only when they are gone can that stain be wiped clean. Would a surgeon remove half of a malignant growth and leave the rest, satisfied with what he already accomplished? Would a hunter skin half a carcass and leave the rest of the precious pelt to rot? We must kill them or drive them off that world. Anything less is a mortal sin. It is an ancient law. Suffer none who would seek to stand on the ground you have chosen. Thus the writs tell us.”

“The Hierophant does not share your interpretation,” Odalon said.

“The Hierophant saw it fit to change his mind,” Robart said. “But I did not change mine. My father died in Nexus’ blood fields. The woman I loved more than life itself, the woman I wanted to bear my children, lost her life there. Her light…” His voice broke and he squeezed his fists. “Her light is gone. To look upon the Horde’s territory on Nexus is to dishonor her memory. When I stand before the gates of the afterlife, and my father and my almost wife meet me and ask if they were avenged, what will I tell them? That I was too tired of fighting? That I couldn’t spare any more blood to be spilled in their name?”

“What will you tell the spirits of all who stand behind them?” Arland asked. “What will you tell them when they ask you why you threw away their lives in a fight we cannot win.”

“We will win.” Robart punched the table. “It is a righteous war. A holy war!”

“It’s logistics,” Arland said. “Neither we nor the Horde can shuttle enough troops to Nexus to ensure a decisive victory. We lost two transports just last month. What will you tell the soldiers inside them? They didn’t even get to taste the battle.”

“They knew the risks,” Robart barked.

“Yes, but they trust us to lead us into battle. They trust us to not waste their lives. I will not sacrifice any more of my knights on this pointless war.”

“If you’re too weak, then I will find another ally.”

Arland strode to the Keurig and I heard the water pour. If he needed more tea, I would have gotten him some.

“Like House Meer?” Arland asked, opening the refrigerator. “The cowards who wouldn’t even fight?”

“At least House Meer refuses to honor your pitiful attempts at peace,” Robart said. “Their dissent is…” He inhaled.

I smelled coffee. Oh no.

Arland returned to the table with the mug. Judging by the color, at least a third of it had to be the hazelnut flavored creamer from my fridge.

“Lord Arland,” I sank a warning into my voice.

“What is this?” Robart looked at the cup.

“A drink for real men,” Arland said. “I wouldn’t recommend it. It doesn’t suffer the unprepared.”

Lord Robart turned to me. “I’ll have what he’s having.”

“That is a terrible idea,” I said. “The drink contains…”

“Here,” Arland handed his coffee to Robart. “If you insist. I shall get another.”

“No!” I reached for the cup.

Robart gulped the coffee. “This is interesting. It’s delicious, but I’m awaiting that profound impact you promised me.”