Bonds of Vengeance

Chapter Eleven

Yserne, Sanbira

It was said throughout Sanbira, and even in the other kingdoms by those who had journeyed to the southern realm and found it impossible to deny the truth, that Castle Yserne, seat of the Sanbiri matriarchy, was the most beautiful fortress in all the Forelands. Rising from the base of the Sanbiri Hills, and built of the russet stone mined from their depths, its soaring rounded towers, elaborately detailed ramparts, and gently curving walls seemed more a work of art than a castle. And on days like this one, when the sun shone and the air was still so that the castle’s image was perfectly reflected in the brilliant blue waters of Lake Yserne, it seemed a creation of the gods, as much a part of the landscape as the hills themselves and Shyssir’s Wood to the west. Yet, as history had shown time and again, marked by the failure of sieges launched by the Brugaosans, the Trescarris, and even, centuries before, by the Curlintes, its battlements and the red walls surrounding Yserne city sacrificed nothing for their grace.

Olesya of Sanbira, the fourth queen of that name to rule Sanbira from Castle Yserne, the Lioness of the Hills, as she was known throughout the southern Forelands, had lived in the fortress all her life, nearly half a century now. To this day, she had found no finer structure anywhere, not even in Curtell, where she had gone years before to visit the renowned Imperial Palace of Braedon. Despite its glazed windows and interior fountains, or perhaps because of them, there was something garish about Harel’s palace. Those who built Castle Yserne had both the good sense and good taste to err on the side of simplicity rather than excess.

In recent turns, the queen had found herself looking at the castle through different eyes. Where once she had taken it for granted, accepting Yserne’s beauty and strength with little thought for its creators, she now couldn’t go anywhere in her demesne without admiring the craft that had yielded such a place. Tanqel the First, the second man of Yserne to rule Sanbira, oversaw construction of the castle more than five and a half centuries before, and though he was remembered for his violent temper and bloody reign, Olesya had decided not long ago that if he could build a castle like this one, there had to be more to the man than cruelty and a quick blade.

Which, she was wise enough to understand, brought her to the core of the matter. How would she be remembered? She had ruled well for twenty-nine years, enjoying one of the longest reigns of any ruler in Sanbiri history, king or queen. She had been wise and fair, tolerating far more from the northern dukes than most reasonable women would have, and striving to maintain peaceful relations with Wethyrn to the north and Caerisse to the west. During her reign, Sanbira had weathered droughts and floods, outbreaks of the pestilence and once, in the earliest days of her rule, a land tremor that devastated the cities of Trescarri, Listaal, and Kinsarta. But in all, hers had been a prosperous reign, and mercifully uneventful.

“Is that how I’m to be remembered, then?” she asked herself aloud, standing before an open window in her chambers. “As the queen who ruled when nothing happened?” She gave a rueful smile. A fine legacy for the Lioness of the Hills.

She had never thought in such terms before Dalvia’s illness. But watching from afar as her dearest friend wasted away, like a wild beast caged against its will, Olesya had been forced to accept that even queens didn’t live forever. She was young yet-merely in her forty-ninth year-but her own mother had died at fifty-one, her father at fifty-three. She felt fine, but so had Dalvia only a turn or two before the illness struck her.

She shuddered, turning away from the window but leaving it open. Diani’s message had made her think this way. She had tried to put Dalvia out of her mind since the funeral. Naturally she had no intention of ending Yserne’s ties to House Curlinte. The alliance between the two families was nearly as old as the Yserne Dynasty, and the army of House Curlinte had fought to protect the matriarchy on many occasions. Olesya was fond of Sertio and loved Diani almost as she did her own children. She merely wished for some time to mourn her friend, to heal the wound Dalvia’s death had left on her heart.

It seemed, however, that Diani needed her, and who was Olesya to deny the girl the comfort or guidance she sought.

The message from Curlinte had been quite vague and brief, nearly to the point of impropriety. It merely stated that she had already left Curlinte and expected to reach the royal city by the twelfth day of the waxing-today. There was no mention of what she wished to discuss, no request for an audience with the queen, a familiarity even Dalvia would not have allowed herself. Perhaps Olesya should have expected this. Diani was still quite young, and she had always been an impetuous child, though no more so than Olesya’s own daughters. Boys, the queen had decided long ago, were easier to raise than girls. She laughed at the thought, wondering if that were as true in patriarchies.

Notwithstanding her desire to have no dealings with House Curlinte for a time, and the inappropriate tone of Diani’s message, Olesya had spared no effort in preparing the castle for the girl’s arrival. It was to be Diani’s first visit to the royal city as duchess in her own right, and custom dictated that she be received as befitted her new title. She would be met at the city gates by a hundred of Yserne’s soldiers, including men bearing the colors of both houses. Heralds would greet her with the Sanbiri anthem and, of course, the queen herself would welcome her to the city, declaring her guestfriend of all the people of Yserne. There would be a feast this night and a sword tournament among the soldiers of the royal army and whatever men Diani brought with her from Curlinte. Musicians would perform at the feast and in the streets of the city, as would tumblers and Qirsi fire conjurers. To the people of the city, it would almost seem that the Festival had arrived early. Diani, the queen was quite certain, would remember this visit for the rest of her days.

No sooner had she formed the thought than Olesya heard bells ringing from the east gate of the city. Diani’s company was approaching the city walls.

The queen wrapped herself in the royal mantle-blue and red, the colors of Yserne-and placed on her brow the silver circlet worn by Yserne’s queens for more than five centuries. Glancing briefly at her image in the large mirror on her sleeping chamber’s far wall, she stepped to the door and pulled it open, only to find Abeni ja Krenta, her archminister, standing in the corridor, her hand poised to knock.

The Qirsi woman raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Some would say you have gleaning power, Your Highness. You anticipate my knock before you hear it.”

Olesya gave an indulgent smile. “I merely heard the same bells you did, Abeni.”

The archminister’s eyebrows went up in feigned innocence. “Were there bells? I didn’t hear them.”

“Come along,” the queen said, still smiling as she started down the corridor. Abeni quickly fell in step beside her, smoothing her ministerial robes with a white hand. “I take it all is ready for Diani’s arrival.”

“Yes, Your Highness. The kitchenmaster is complaining that the cellarmaster has chosen the wrong wine for the feast tonight, but I’ve spoken with them both and made it clear that they’re to have the matter settled before the duchess sets foot in the castle.”

“I imagine they have their swords drawn as we speak.”

Abeni gave a small laugh. “No doubt, Your Highness.”

They emerged from the castle at the base of the queen’s tower and crossed through the vast network of gates and wards that guarded the fortress from would-be invaders. At the outermost gate, they were joined by eight soldiers who arrayed themselves around the queen, the silver hilts of their blades gleaming in the sunlight. From the castle gate, the queen and her escort followed a winding lane down toward the city. It was lined with people who had set aside their chores and business to greet Curlinte’s duchess, and seeing the queen, they cheered loudly.

Before they reached the entrance to the city, Olesya heard the first strains of Sanbiri’s anthem echo off the castle walls. Diani’s company had reached the city gate, and the queen would do the same just as the anthem ended.

Olesya glanced at Abeni and favored her with a smile. “You planned this well, Archminister. You’re to be commended.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. It was nothing.”

As the last strains of the anthem died away, Olesya stepped through the city gate with Abeni just behind her. The soldiers of Yserne stood to the side of the road, their blades raised in salute, their blue-and-red uniforms as bright as new blooms. But Olesya could not take her eyes off the duchess. Diani sat on her great bay, her face white and covered with sweat, though the day was cool. Sertio, her father, was beside her atop a grey stallion, his hand holding her reins. Behind them, all mounted, a company of soldiers waited in silence, twenty strong, a surprisingly large contingent of guards for such a journey. The queen felt her stomach tighten.

“We’ll dispense with the formalities, Archminister,” Olesya said in a low voice.

Abeni nodded. “Of course, Your Highness.”

The queen stepped forward, opening her arms in greeting. “Diani, duchess of Curlinte, we welcome you to Yserne. I name you guest-friend of this house so that all will know that you are under my protection. So long as you remain in this city, the soldiers of Yserne will guard your life as they would my own.”

Diani swung herself off her mount stiffly, and knelt before her. A moment later, Sertio and the Curlinte guards did the same.

“My thanks, Your Highness,” the duchess said, her voice strained. “You do us great honor by welcoming us so.”

“Rise, child. Let me look at you.”

Diani and the men in her company stood and the duchess kept herself utterly still, suffering the queen’s gaze as if she were ashamed of her appearance.

“What’s happened?” Olesya asked. She cast a look at Sertio, whose concern was as obvious as Diani’s weariness. “Is she ill?”

“I’ll tell you everything when we’re safely in the castle,” the duchess said. And as she spoke, her eyes wandered not to the soldiers or the mob of people visible through the gate but rather to Abeni.

Only then did the queen realize that Diani had come to Yserne without her first minister.

“Of course.” Olesya faced the Qirsi woman. “Perhaps you should return to the castle ahead of us, Archminister. Make certain that our guests’ quarters are ready.”

Abeni was eying the duchess, her expression grim, her cheeks even more pallid than usual. “Yes, Your Highness.” She bowed to Diani. “Welcome to Yserne, my lady.”

Diani said nothing, though she did nod once.

Clearly the duchess was in a good deal of pain, but she walked with the queen back up to the castle, even managing a smile and an occasional wave to the men and women cheering her arrival. She was her mother’s daughter.

Once inside the castle, Diani and Sertio followed the queen back to her chambers, none of them speaking. Only when the door was closed and they were alone did Olesya turn and look at the duchess again.

“Now tell me,” she said. “What’s happened?”

Diani dropped herself into a chair, her eyes closed. She should have waited for leave from the queen to sit, but Olesya was not about to remark on it now.

“There was an attempt on my life.”

“There were two,” her father corrected.

“During your journey here?”

The young woman shook her head. “Near the end of the waning. This is why we came to see you.”

“You were wounded?”

“Yes, but the wounds have healed.”

“They’re not bleeding anymore,” Sertio broke in. “That doesn’t mean that you’re whole again. Three arrows,” he said to the queen. “One in the leg, one in the chest, one in the back. The healer told her to rest.” This last came out as a plea, as if he wanted Olesya to tell Diani to get herself to bed.

“I did rest, Father.”

“Not nearly enough. We shouldn’t have ridden so soon.”

“Her Highness had to know, and we agreed that sending a messenger presented too many risks.”

“Who did this?” the queen asked.

Diani opened her eyes, her gaze clear. “It was made to seem that Edamo ordered the assassination. The archers had their heads shaved, and their arrows were marked blue and yellow.”

“But you don’t believe this.”

“Edamo isn’t that bold.”

“Have you captured the assassins? Have you questioned them?”

“They were murdered themselves,” Sertio said, “by another man who made the second attempt on Diani’s life the following day. He’s dead as well.”

They didn’t believe the Brugaosans were responsible, which left only one other choice. A lioness wasn’t supposed to show fear, but Olesya had to struggle to keep her voice steady as she said, “Your first minister isn’t with you. Is he responsible?”

Diani nodded. “We believe it’s possible.”

“We know nothing for certain.” There could be no mistaking the anger in Sertio’s voice. There was far more to this than they had told her.

“But you suspect the conspiracy.”

“Yes,” Sertio said, though even this he offered with some reluctance.

“It had to have been the conspiracy,” Diani said, more to her father than to the queen.

“Do you have any evidence of Qirsi involvement?” Olesya asked.

Diani twisted her mouth, looking like a child caught in a lie. “No, Your Highness. Not yet.”

The queen nodded. “I agree that it makes little sense for the Brugaosans to have done this. They’d have little to gain, and for all his bluster, Edamo is not ready to test his army against mine.” She nearly said something about Cyro’s murder, but quickly thought better of it. Neither the duchess nor her father had raised the matter, and there seemed little point in doing so herself. “Still,” she said instead, “I can’t do much without proof that the conspiracy has come to Sanbira.” She pressed her fingertips together, fearing their answer to her next question. “Where is your first minister now?”

Olesya sensed that Sertio wanted to respond, but was holding his tongue. It seemed this was Diani’s tale to tell.

“He’s in the prison tower of Castle Curlinte, Your Highness. Even without the evidence of which you speak, I have little doubt of his complicity in this matter. I felt it most prudent to confine him to the tower. He won’t be able to strike at me again from there.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Nobles of the other realms imprisoned men without cause as a matter of course. Perhaps the dukes of Brugaosa and Norinde did as well. But the duchesses of Sanbira did not do such things. It was not their way. “And what if he’s innocent?” she demanded. “Kreazur served your mother loyally for years. If he had betrayed House Curlinte, she would have known.”

“She was ill for a long time, Your Highness. She wasn’t the same woman at the end. She might not have known.”

“Nevertheless, child. To treat a trusted advisor in such a way. .” She shook her head. “What if one of your other Qirsi is the traitor? Don’t you think that Kreazur could help you discover the truth?”

Diani shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her eyes darting toward Sertio.

“Go on,” he said. “Tell her the rest.”

The duchess took a breath, as if gathering herself for a fight. “I’ve imprisoned all the Qirsi who serve our house.”

“What?” Olesya felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. “Diani, how could you do this?”

“Until I know which of them have betrayed me, I feel safest with them in the tower.”

“You allowed her to do this?” she asked of Sertio.

“It wasn’t my father’s place to give or deny me permission, Your Highness. You know that as well as anyone.”

The queen shook her head again. “This is wrong.” She stepped to her window. I’ve imprisoned all the Qirsi. . “How long have they been held?”

“A bit more than half a turn.” Sertio. Clearly he didn’t approve of this either. Diani had done it all on her own.

“You must release them at once,” Olesya said, turning to face them both. “This can’t be allowed to continue.”

“But, Your Highness-”

“Release them, Diani. Send a message to Curlinte instructing whoever you left in charge to free them all.”

The young woman stood. “You would dictate to one of your nobles how she must govern her duchy?”

“If she acts the fool, yes.”

Diani’s cheeks burned crimson and Olesya had to remind herself that despite the ducal robes, this was still but a girl standing before her, new to her power, still grieving for Dalvia, and still recovering from an assassination attempt. It was so easy to forget with Diani, for she had always been wise beyond her years and so like her mother in many ways. Dalvia and Olesya had often spoken of how the girl seemed to have been born to rule, but really this wasn’t true of anyone, not even a queen. Statecraft couldn’t be bred into a child. It had to be taught, and Diani had lost her tutor at far too tender an age. Too late, the queen realized that she had approached this matter in the wrong way.

“Surely you see the danger in what you’ve done,” she began again, her tone far more gentle than it had been a moment before. “To imprison people solely because they’re Qirsi is to make yourself no different from those in the conspiracy who kill nobles simply because they’re Eandi. It’s not our way, Diani.”

“With all respect, Your Highness, I don’t know what our way is. Sanbira has never before faced a threat like the conspiracy. No realm in the Forelands has. All of us are journeying in unknown lands. I don’t know what nobles elsewhere are doing, but clearly it’s not working.”

“And this is your answer?”

“It’s an imperfect solution, Your Highness. I realize that. But it’s not without merits. This traitor, whoever he or she may be, can’t plot against us from the prison, nor can he flee before we learn his identity.” She faltered, though only for an instant. “And he can’t find another assassin either. I know you think I’ve done wrong, but you don’t know what it’s like to feel afraid in your own castle.”

“You don’t even know if there is a traitor,” Olesya said, trying to keep her voice even. “If you had proof even of that I might understand-”

“There is a traitor. Of that much, I’m certain. These men knew just where to find me though I was on the headlands, at a place my mother had shared with me and Father and few others.”

Olesya couldn’t help but smile. Dalvia’s promontory. She and the old duchess had visited the headlands together several times. One only needed to go once, to hear the roar of the breakers and watch the tide advance and ebb, to understand the allure of the place. “I was one of the fortunate few,” she murmured.

“Then you know how difficult it would be to find without knowledge of the lands surrounding Castle Curlinte. The assassins were hired by someone close to me, and then they were made to resemble Brugaosan archers. Who but the Qirsi would do such a thing?”

In spite of herself, Olesya found herself swayed somewhat by the young woman’s logic. It was easy to see how Diani had come to take this action, though that only made the course she had chosen that much more perilous.

“Are your Qirsi being mistreated?” the queen asked.

Sertio bristled. “You mean aside from being thrown in prison without cause?”

Olesya eyed him briefly, before facing the duchess again. “Are they?”

“No, Your Highness. They’re in the tower, not the dungeon. They receive three meals a day and as many blankets as they need. There are no more than four in any given chamber.”

She nodded. Intolerable though it was, the situation could have been far worse.

“Is this why you came?” the queen asked, stepping to the chair across from Diani’s and sitting. “To tell me of the assassination attempt?”

“Wait a moment!” Sertio said. “That’s all you have to say about the Qirsi? It’s wrong, but if they’re not being mistreated I’ll allow it?”

“I don’t like this any more than you do, Sertio. But it’s hard to deny the reasoning behind what she’s done.”

“Reasoning? There is no reason here! There’s fear and injustice, and not much else! Diani is young and still shaken by what’s been done to her. But you should know better.”

Olesya glared at him. “In my castle you will address me as Your Highness or Queen Olesya, and you will speak to me with respect. Do you understand, Lord Curlinte?”

Sertio looked to the side and nodded, his face reddening. “Forgive me, Your Highness.”

She said nothing, her eyes fixed on him for several moments more. At last, she turned to Diani again. “Why did you come, Diani?”

“To tell you of the assassins. To warn you that the conspiracy has come to Sanbira.”

“We knew that it would. We couldn’t remain immune forever while the other realms suffered.”

“No, Your Highness.”

“What do you propose we do about it?”

Diani blinked. “I–I’m not certain, Your Highness.”

“Well, you’ve placed your Qirsi in Curlinte’s prison tower. Should we do the same in all the courts? Should we end the Festival until the threat has passed? If no Qirsi can be trusted, then doesn’t it make sense for us to keep watch on all the Qirsi in Sanbira?”

The duchess seemed to weigh this for some time. “You still want me to release them, don’t you?” she finally said.

“You see where your actions lead,” Olesya said, ignoring the young woman’s question for the moment. “If what you’ve done is the answer in Curlinte, then it must be in the other duchies as well. If we were all to think as you do, then even a single Qirsi who is allowed to remain free represents a threat to us all. Soon, every Qirsi in the Forelands would be imprisoned. You must see the injustice in that.” She leaned forward. “I don’t like saying this, child, but if the conspiracy is determined to make another attempt on your life, they will find a way to do it. We must be vigilant. We must warn Sanbira’s other nobles of the danger. But we must never forget who and what we are.”

Diani gazed back at her, looking terribly young and so frightened that for a moment Olesya thought she might cry. “They almost succeeded,” she whispered. “The healer said that the arrows came within a halfspan of killing me. And the other man. .” She stopped, shaking her head.

The queen shuddered, but forced a smile. “It seems the gods were with you.”

“Or maybe I was just fortunate.”

“Perhaps you were. But from this day on, you’ll be more wary. They’re not apt to surprise you a second time. That’s to your advantage.”

The duchess nodded. “Yes, Your Highness. I’ll send the message at once.” She started to stand, but Olesya stopped her with an outstretched hand.

“Sit for a time, child. You can send your message shortly. First, I’d like you to answer the question I asked you earlier. What should we do about this? I do agree with you that the conspiracy may have been behind these attacks. But how do we combat an enemy that smiles at us, even as he slips a blade between our ribs? Imprisoning all the Qirsi is no solution, but there must be others.”

“I can think of none, Your Highness. As I said before, other realms have been faced with attacks from the Qirsi far longer than we have, and they’ve thought of nothing.”

“What is it that the Qirsi want?” Sertio asked, drawing the gaze of both women. “Assuming for a moment that the conspiracy did try to have Diani killed, what would her death bring them?”

“My wrath,” the queen said immediately.

“You forget the colors on their arrows,” Diani said. “They wanted your wrath to be directed at the Brugaosans.”

“So it’s civil war they want.” Sertio was looking from one of them to the other.

Diani shrugged. “That would follow from all we’ve heard of their activities in the other realms.”

“I agree,” the queen said. “But it seems to me that the more they rely on this tactic the less effective it becomes. After a time, all the Eandi courts are bound to stop blaming each other and start looking to the Qirsi.”

“Then perhaps that’s what we need to do,” Diani said, her voice brightening. “I believe you should call together die other nobles, Your Highness. Tell them what’s happened in Curlinte and see if we can all agree to band together against the conspiracy.”

“You mean a treaty, within the realm?”

She nodded, actually smiling now. “In a sense, yes, that’s just what I mean. The conspiracy seeks to weaken us. What if we find a way to keep that from happening, to use the attack on me against them?”

Olesya glanced at Sertio, who was fairly beaming with pride. “It’s a fine idea, Lady Curlinte.”

Diani blushed, a small smile on her lips. “My thanks, Your Highness.”

“Indeed,” the queen went on, her mind suddenly racing, “we may want to take it a step further. I believe we should make overtures not only to the other houses in Sanbira but also to the other realms of the Forelands.”

“The other realms will resist, Your Highness,” Sertio said. “You may convince the Caerissans, and I hear that Kearney, Eibithar’s new king, is a reasonable man. But the emperor won’t listen, and neither will the Aneirans. And of course the Wethys have little regard for anything that comes from the Matriarchy.”

“I know it won’t be easy, Sertio, but to be honest, neither will getting our own nobles to agree. Edamo may see in the turmoil created by the conspiracy an opportunity to end the Yserne Dynasty, and if Brugaosa opposes us, Norinde is certain to do so as well. But still we have to try. We don’t know where or when the Qirsi will strike next, and it seems to me that Diani has given voice to our only hope of defeating them.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Enter,” the queen called, rising from her chair.

The door opened and Abeni stepped into the chamber.

“Yes, Archminister. What is it?”

“There is food for our guests in the great hall, Your Highness. I thought they might be hungry after their journey.”

“You’re right, of course. I should have thought of it.” She indicated the door with an open hand, looking first at Diani and then at Sertio. “Eat, and then rest. We’ll speak again later.”

“I’ll dispatch a messenger at once, Your Highness.”

“After you eat, Diani. I’ll have my archminister make the arrangements so that a rider will be ready as soon as you’ve composed your message.”

Abeni looked at her, a question in her yellow eyes, but the queen gave a quick shake of her head. She would explain later.

“My soldiers will escort you to the hall. I’ll be along shortly.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Diani and Sertio both bowed to her and started toward the door. After only a step of two, however, the duke stopped, facing her again.

“I apologize for my behavior before, Your Highness. I didn’t understand.”

“Think no more of it, Sertio. You’re a wise and honorable man, and you wish only to guide your child through this most difficult time. It’s no wonder Dalvia loved you as she did.”

The man’s eyes welled and he swallowed. “Thank you, Your Highness,” he said softly.

Bowing a second time, he left her chamber, his footsteps echoing in the corridor.

“A messenger, Your Highness?”

The queen glanced at Abeni, then walked to her writing table. “Yes, we’ll actually need quite a few before the day is out.”

“Will they be going far?”

“Some of them will. I intend to summon the leaders of all Sanbira’s houses to Yserne to discuss the Qirsi conspiracy. I also wish to speak of this matter with the rulers of the other realms, though I realize that will be a bit more difficult.”

Abeni said nothing and after several moments the queen looked up from the papers before her. “No response, Archminister? Don’t tell me I’ve finally silenced you.”

The Qirsi woman smiled, though only for an instant. “I’m merely surprised, Your Highness. What’s happened to bring this about?”

The queen briefly recounted her conversation with the duchess and her father, describing for Abeni the attempts on Diani’s life. “It seems,” the queen said, “that the conspiracy has finally come to Sanbira.”

The minister raised her eyebrows. “I see. I’ll find riders right away, Your Highness.”

“Yes, and use the usual merchants to get the messages to the other realms.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” She hesitated. “Seven riders, Your Highness? One for each of the houses other than Yserne and Curlinte?”

“Actually eight. Lady Curlinte needs to send a message to her castle.”

“Ah, yes, so you said.”

Olesya couldn’t help but grin. Abeni hadn’t forgotten this, of course. She merely wanted an explanation.

“In the wake of the assassination attempts, the duchess has imprisoned all the Qirsi who live and work in Castle Curlinte.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “All of them? Even her first minister?”

“Yes. I’ve prevailed upon her to have them freed at once.”

“Why?”

The queen stared at her a moment, wondering if she had heard correctly. “What?”

“Why would you have the duchess free them? It seems a logical precaution to me. Until she knows which of them is the traitor, none of them should be free to roam the castle and city. To do less is to invite additional mischief.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Abeni shrugged. “I realize it’s a bit extreme-”

“Extreme? It’s unconscionable! Surely you of all people can see that!”

The minister smiled, albeit sadly. “I’m a Qirsi who serves loyally in the royal house of Sanbira, Your Highness. I have as much cause as any Eandi noble to hate the Qirsi conspiracy. In many ways more. I understand your concerns, but I have great sympathy for what the duchess has done. Respectfully, I believe you should reconsider your request that she have the Qirsi released, at least until we learn the identity of Curlinte’s traitor.”

The queen exhaled heavily. “Well, Archminister, I can’t say that I expected this. I’ll consider what you’ve said, but in the meantime I still want you to find eight riders.”

Abeni bowed. “Yes, Your Highness. Is that all?”

Olesya didn’t respond for several moments. She merely stared at the woman, grappling with an overwhelming sense of sadness and, even more, utter confusion. As a young girl, the queen had been taught by her mother to see beyond race and realm, profession and status. “There is as much nobility in those who till fields and pound steel to earn their gold as there is in any woman or man of the courts,” her mother often said. “There is as much goodness and inhumanity in Sanbira as there is in Wethyrn or Aneira, and there is as much capacity for both fealty and treachery in the Eandi heart as in the Qirsi heart. A queen sees people as they are, not as she assumes them to be.” Olesya had tried to live and rule by these words, to meet her mother’s expectations even after the old queen’s death. Yet now her archminister stood before her, suggesting that she treat men and women of her own race as criminals simply because their hair was white and their eyes yellow. And what frightened her most was that her world had become a place in which this counsel seemed perfectly reasonable.

“You understand, Abeni, that were I to apply Diani’s logic to my own court, I would have to imprison you, as well as the others?”

That same sad smile lingered on the archminister’s face. “Of course, Your Highness. To do less would make no sense at all.”

“And still you counsel me to allow her action to stand?”

“I do so with a heavy heart, Your Highness, but yes, I do. The conspiracy threatens all. From what I understand, its leaders have as much contempt for court Qirsi as they do for the nobles we serve. If they prevail in this fight, I imagine I’ll be tortured and executed. Next to that, your prison seems rather inviting.”

The queen gave a wry smile and nodded. “I see. Thank you, Archminister. That will be all.”

Abeni bowed again and left her.

Glancing down at the scrolls before her, Olesya picked up her quill and began trying to compose a message she could send to her duchesses and dukes. Edamo would be looking for signs of fear or weakness, anything he could use to Brugaosa’s advantage. Hence, she would offer none. This would be a challenge to her writing skills, for she was afraid, and she felt powerless to halt the conspiracy’s advance across the southern Forelands.