Free Ghost in the Winds (Ghost Exile #9) by Jonathan Moeller

been quite a bit more improvising.
    To Kylon’s mild surprise, the commanders greeted him with enthusiasm as well. Then again, they had seen him kill the nagataaru-possessed Rhataban in single combat. Evidently, the late Master Alchemist had possessed a fearsome reputation. 
    At the other end of the ring, a little away from the others, the Emissary of the Living Flame leaned upon her cane, flanked by a pair of monks in flame-colored robes. She looked like an unremarkable Istarish woman of middle years, her black hair going to gray, but her black eyes met Kylon’s, and he felt the power within them. The Istarish revered her as the Emissary of the Living Flame, the voice of the Living Flame’s will in the world, but Kylon met her gaze without blinking. She had promised to aid him, though he did not trust oracles. 
    “My lords,” said Prince Sulaman as grooms led away the horses. “We have arrived. Istarinmul lies before us. We must decide how best to take the city with the least loss of life to its people.” 
    “I do not think it is feasible to storm the walls in a direct assault,” said Tanzir. “At least not at the moment.”
    “I doubt more than three or four thousand of Erghulan’s dogs escaped to the city,” said Kazravid. Over his armor, he wore the patterned red and black robes of an Anshani anjar, a minor nobleman of the Shahenshah’s domain. “If we strike hard and at once, we might overwhelm the defense and storm into the city.”
    “We might not,” said Strabane. “They have Hellfire engines upon the walls, and the engineers have the leisure to range their shots properly. Even the Immortals broke under the storm of Hellfire at the battle. Could you expect normal men to do otherwise?” 
    “My lords,” said Nasser, “it may not be necessary to assault the city at all.”
    They all looked at him.
    “How so?” said Tanzir.
    “Consider,” said Nasser. “Erghulan’s standing was already damaged when Cassander Nilas and the Umbarians betrayed him and tried to destroy the city. Now he has been decisively defeated, and a lord who loses a battle rarely keeps his hold upon power for long. It is entirely possible that Erghulan realizes that he is finished, especially since Grand Master Callatas has vanished.”
    Strabane snorted. “Is Erghulan smart enough to realize that?” 
    “No one will say the Grand Wazir has a subtle mind,” said Tanzir, “but his sense of self-preservation is quite well-honed. One cannot survive otherwise in the politics of Istarinmul.” 
    “Then you wish to leave him an escape route,” said Lord Martin.
    “You see keenly,” said Nasser. “My lords, we all know that our real enemy is Grand Master Callatas, who has departed the city on some task for his insane Apotheosis. Erghulan is but his servant, however much he might believe otherwise. If we give him a chance to flee, he shall likely take it. Mercy would serve us better than vengefulness here, I think. Let Erghulan and his supporters flee, and permit any of the common soldiers who wish to surrender to do so. That way we can take Istarinmul with a minimum of death on all sides,” he glanced at Kylon, “and if Grand Master Callatas returns from his errand, he shall find an Istarinmul unified against him with his work undone and his wraithblood laboratories destroyed. That would be a heavy stroke against his work.”
    Kylon said nothing. If Grand Master Callatas returned…that meant that Caina was dead. Either Callatas had killed her, or the Red Huntress had done so. Again Kylon felt the overwhelming regret that he had not accompanied her to Pyramid Isle, that he had not insisted he go with her to face Callatas. At the time, her logic had made perfect sense, but her damned logic always made sense, even when it was wrong. 
    He should have gone with her. 
    On the other hand, if he had gone with her, it was likely everyone around him would have died in the battle.
    He still wished he had gone with