Shapers of Darkness

Chapter Twelve

Yserne, Sanbira

A fierce rain pelted Yserne, soaking the farms that dotted the countryside, slaking the thirst of young crops. Vast pools of rainwater covered the inner ward of the queen’s castle, and beyond the walls of the fortress, the surface of Lake Yserne churned as if some fire from Bian’s realm heated its waters.

Such storms weren’t uncommon in Sanbira during Elined’s Turn. As a child, Diani, duchess of Curlinte, had dreaded the moon of the goddess; just the mention of Elined’s name called to mind dreary days trapped within the walls of her mother’s castle, staring out at the warm rains and the brilliant lightning that arced across the sky on the coast near Curlinte. “Growing rains bring a good harvest,” her mother used to say, when Diani complained to her of horseback rides put off by another storm. “It’s the growing sun that I fear.”

In recent years, as she passed Fating age and began to assume more responsibility for leading the duchy, Diani witnessed for herself the ravages of drought and famine, and came to understand her mother’s fondness for the rains. She might even have shared it in some small way. And in the turns since her mother’s death, she had realized that the smell of a storm and the gentle rumble of distant thunder would forever remind her of Dalvia, of the rainy days they had shared in Curlinte Castle, speaking of what it meant to rule as duchess.

This storm was different, however. It offered no comforting memories, no solace for the loss of her mother, which still made her chest ache. The rain that fell this day seemed to carry only the dark promise of battle and ominous portents of an uncertain future. Water ran down the castle walls, darkening the red stone so that it seemed to glimmer and flow like blood. Thunder made the walls and floors shudder, as if Orlagh herself, the warrior goddess, were pounding at the earth with her battle hammer.

“Is something wrong, Lady Curlinte?”

Diani turned from the window at the sound of the voice. Edamo, the duke of Brugaosa, was standing beside her, somewhat closer than she would have liked.

“No, Lord Brugaosa. I’m fine.”

“You’re certain? You looked troubled-one might even go so far as to say, fearful. Is it possible that you know already why the queen has called us here?”

She shook her head, pushing a strand of dark hair back from her brow. “As I said, I’m fine. And I have no idea why the queen wished to speak with us.”

A lie, one that came to her easily. The matriarchy was poised on the edge of a blade. It no longer seemed a question of whether Sanbira would go to war, but rather when and against whom. Eibithar might already be at war with Braedon and Aneira; just this morning word of the empire’s impending invasion had arrived in the royal city, along with a request from King Kearney that the queen send her army to aid the defense of his realm. Only a few turns before, the Qirsi conspiracy had struck at Sanbira, making an attempt on Diani’s life that had been intended to appear the work of Edamo’s famed assassins.

This was a time for all subjects of the matriarchy to put aside their hostilities and suspicions, to unite behind their queen and fight as one to protect Sanbira. Yet Diani could not look at Edamo as anything more or less than a rival. She no longer believed that the man’s assassins had been responsible for the death of her brother, Cyro, several years before; that too had been a Qirsi deception. But Edamo and his lone ally in the realm, Alao, the duke of Norinde, had resisted the queen’s every attempt to prepare the realm for war, fearing that such measures would strengthen House Yserne’s hold on power, and Diani saw no reason to show him any more courtesy than he had shown Olesya.

“No idea at all?” the duke said, eyeing her doubtfully. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Would you all please be seated?” the queen said from the far end of the room, her handsome face looking lined and wan in the dim light of the oil lamps that burned throughout the chamber.

Diani gave a small smile. “Believe what you will,” she told the duke, before leaving him for her seat at the council table.

The other nobles sat as well, Edamo and Alao taking seats as far from the queen as possible, as they always did.

“As you know,” Olesya began, after regarding them all briefly, “some time ago I sent a message to the king of Eibithar proposing that our two realms forge an alliance so that we might face the Qirsi threat united. We’ve waited a long time for Kearney’s reply, so long that I had begun to wonder if my message ever reached the City of Kings.” She held up a piece of parchment, sealed at the bottom with a swirl of purple and gold wax. “His response has arrived at last.”

“You don’t look pleased, Your Highness,” Edamo said. “I take it he has rejected your overtures.”

The queen gave a slight frown. Diani hadn’t missed it either, Your overtures.

“Actually, Lord Brugaosa, he has accepted our proposal. Indeed, he asks even more of us than we did of him.”

“More, Your Highness?” asked Rashel of Trescarri.

“Yes. Apparently the Braedon fleet has been menacing Eibithar’s north coast and the Aneirans have been massing along the Tarbin. When he wrote his reply Kearney expected to be at war within half a turn, which would mean that the fighting may have already begun. He asks our help in repelling the invaders, and offers in return his realm’s support in our efforts to combat the Qirsi conspiracy.”

Edamo glanced around the table before looking at the queen again. “He must know that we’ll refuse such a request.”

“If so, he knows more than I do.” Vasyonne, the duchess of Listaal, had long taken great pleasure in baiting Edamo and Alao. As a close ally of the queen and one of the younger duchesses, she had also gone out of her way to befriend Diani after Dalvia’s death, and the two of them often agreed on matters of state. As they did now.

“Surely you can’t think that we should go to war with the empire,” Edamo said.

“It seems the emperor is bringing war to Eibithar. If he’s bold enough to attack there, he may order his fleet to our shores next.”

“He wouldn’t. We’ve always enjoyed good relations with the empire. There isn’t a realm in the Forelands that buys more of our wine, our gems, or our blades. And Harel himself owns no fewer than forty Sanbiri mounts.”

“This isn’t about imperial gold!”

“Ah, but it is,” Alao said, taking up Edamo’s argument. “I value our friendship with Eibithar as much as anyone. But can we afford to make an enemy of the empire, and Aneira as well? Together they’re far too formidable a foe, and our people depend upon our trade with both realms.” He turned smoothly to the queen. “I must agree with Lord Brugaosa, Your Highness. We have no choice but to deny the king’s request for aid.”

“As it happens, Lord Norinde, I’m inclined to agree with you.”

Diani gaped at her. “But, Your Highness-”

“I know what you’re going to say, Lady Curlinte: we need Eibithar as an ally in our fight with the Qirsi. And that may be true. But if we’re at war with Braedon and Aneira, we stand no chance against the conspiracy.”

The duchess opened her mouth, closed it again. There was little she could say.

“I’ll compose a reply,” the queen said, her voice low, as if she lamented the soundness of her own point. “Unless anyone can give me a good reason not to.”

None of the nobles spoke, though they eyed one another, seeming to hope that someone else would speak. Except of course for the two dukes, who looked far too pleased with themselves.

“What if there’s more to this war in the north than just the emperor’s greed?”

Everyone looked at the duchess of Macharzo, who merely sat with her hands folded before her, her eyes lowered, and her face so composed that Diani began to wonder if she had been mistaken, if in fact another of the duchesses had spoken. Naditia rarely said anything in council. In the short time Diani had been duchess, she had never known the woman to challenge the word of the queen in even the most oblique way. Indeed, she hardly ever spoke at all, even outside of Olesya’s presence chamber. She was a large woman, both broad and tall, with short yellow hair and wide brown eyes. Someone seeing her for the first time might have thought her a warrior, even a commander of fighters. But she could no more have barked orders to an army than she could fly to the top of Olesya’s castle.

“What did you say, Lady Macharzo?” the queen asked, appearing as stunned as the rest by the woman’s words.

“I asked if there might be more to the empire’s invasion than just Harel’s greed.”

“What do you mean?”

The woman shrugged, looking uncomfortable, as though she wished she’d never spoken at all. “It just seems to me that the conspiracy has managed to make a lot of things happen that might not have happened otherwise.”

“Like what?” Alao demanded, making Naditia flinch.

“Like the civil war that nearly tore Eibithar apart,” Diani answered for her, drawing a grateful smile from the woman. “Like the recent violence in Aneira. Like the murder of my brother and the attempts on my life.”

“We don’t know that the conspiracy was responsible for all that. I’ve heard of no proof linking the Qirsi to anything that’s happened in Aneira, and at least half the dukes in Eibithar still blame Tavis of Curgh, and not some Qirsi assassin, for the murder of that girl in Kentigern.” Alao’s eyes flicked briefly toward Edamo. “And even with your first minister dead, you can’t prove yet that the Qirsi killed your brother or tried to kill you.”

“You think it more likely that Lord Brugaosa was behind the attacks on my house?”

“Not at all, Lady Curlinte. But as I’ve said in this chamber before, assuming that the conspiracy is responsible for every dark deed that occurs in Sanbira, or all the Forelands for that matter, is just as dangerous as ignoring the threat entirely. The empire and Aneira have gone to war against Eibithar. Is that really such a surprise?”

“Actually,” Edamo said, “now that I give the matter some thought, it is a bit strange.”

First Naditia had challenged the queen, and now Edamo was breaking with the duke of Norinde. This was a most extraordinary day. Everyone was looking at the older man, none with more astonishment than Alao.

“Aneira hasn’t been this weakened in centuries. The failed siege at Kentigern, the death of Bistari and then Carden, the poisoning of the queen and her council of dukes. This is no time for Aneira to be marshaling its soldiers for war.”

“But if the empire proposed an alliance,” Alao said, “offering the Aneirans a chance to strike at Eibithar, of course they’d accept.”

“Yes, but why would the emperor propose such an alliance now? Wouldn’t it be wiser to wait a year or so, to give the regent time to consolidate his authority and allow Mertesse to rebuild its army?”

Diani grinned. “Lord Brugaosa, you should know better than to go looking for wisdom in Curtell.”

All of them laughed, easing the tension in the chamber somewhat. But Olesya quickly grew serious once more.

“Am I to understand then, Lord Brugaosa, that you now favor joining forces with the Eibitharians?”

“To be honest, Your Highness, I’m not certain how I feel about it. I don’t wish to make an enemy of the emperor.” He nodded toward Diani and the duchess of Macharzo. “But I fear that our young friends here may be right. And if the conspiracy wants this war, we might be well served to put a stop to it as swiftly as possible.”

“Throwing our army into the fray will only prolong the conflict,” Alao said, glowering at Edamo. “If we want it to end quickly we should stay out of it and let them fight.”

The queen raised an eyebrow. “I’d like to ask my master of arms about that. I’m not sure what effect our forces would have on this war. But it seems to me a fair question.” She turned to one of guards standing near the door. “Have your commander summoned immediately.” Then, as if as an afterthought, she added, “And the duke of Curlinte also.”

Diani looked up quickly before dropping her gaze to the table, her cheeks coloring. Her father had accompanied her to the royal city when first she came, because at the time she was still recovering from the injuries she suffered during the assassination attempt at the Curlinte coast. Since arriving at Olesya’s castle they had fought frequently over the best response to the Qirsi threat and the complicity or innocence of Kreazur jal Sylbe, Curlinte’s former first minister. Kreazur died in the streets of Yserne, apparently the victim of assassins he had tried to hire on behalf of the conspiracy, though both Diani and her father now had doubts about this. Diani did not doubt that Sertio had some knowledge of the Braedon army or that he would be able to add much to this discussion; he was master of arms in Curlinte. But she and her father remained at odds, and she feared that his presence here would only serve to remind the other nobles that she was the least experienced of the queen’s duchesses.

If Olesya noticed her discomfort, she gave no indication of it, immediately turning her attention back to Edamo. “I believe I speak for all of us, Lord Brugaosa, when I say that I’m. . surprised by your change of heart.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

They all waited, as if expecting an explanation. When it became clear that none was forthcoming, the queen smiled and nodded. “Very well, Lord Brugaosa.”

Before she could say more, there was a knock at the door, and at her reply, the master of arms and Diani’s father entered the chamber. Both men were soaked and muddied, their color high, their breathing heavy. Ohan Delrasto, the master of arms, had a welt under one of his dark eyes, and Sertio had several on his arms and one vivid red mark at the base of his neck. Both of them were grinning like boys caught in some mischief, though Diani thought that Ohan had to be nearly her father’s age.

“Forgive our appearance, Your Highness,” said the master of arms, bowing to the queen. “We came as soon as we received your summons.”

“Apparently. I take it you were in the ward?”

“Yes, Your Highness. We were. .” He stopped, licking his lips.

“We were practicing foul weather combat, Your Highness,” Sertio said. “Not all wars are fought in sunshine on firm ground.”

“Indeed. And your soldiers are still out there, Master Delrasto?”

“They were never out there, Your Highness,” Ohan said, grinning again. “Just the two of us.”

Sertio added, “We were working on techniques that we intend to teach to our armies, Your Highness.”

Even Diani had to laugh. She couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed for her father, but she was glad to see him enjoying himself. Since her mother’s death, Sertio had foundered in his grief, until Diani wondered if he’d ever know happiness again. No doubt this day’s mirth would prove fleeting, but the mere fact that he could engage in such swordplay gave her hope. Perhaps the wound on his heart had finally begun to heal itself.

“I would invite you to sit,” the queen said, regarding their stained clothing. “But under the circumstances I think it best that you remain standing.”

“Of course, Your Highness. How may we serve you?”

The queen picked up the missive from Kearney and read it aloud. By the time she finished, both Sertio and the master of arms had grown deadly serious.

“These are dark tidings, Your Highness,” Ohan said, rubbing a hand over his angular face.

“Can Eibithar defend herself?”

He stared at the floor, and after several moments he began to nod slowly. “I should think so. If Aneira was as strong now as she was a year ago, I might say different. The emperor has chosen a weakened ally.”

“Does it surprise you that they should attack now?” Edamo asked. “Wouldn’t you have expected them to wait?”

“You mean until Aneira could rebuild its northern armies?”

“Precisely.”

“Yes, I suppose it does.”

“Some of the duchesses have recommended that I grant Kearney’s request,” the queen said. “They want me to send Sanbiri warriors to fight alongside the men of Eibithar.”

Sertio eyed Diani for a moment, as if he knew that she was one of the nobles to whom Olesya referred.

“Are you asking my opinion on the matter, Your Highness?” the master of arms asked.

“Yes, I am.”

Ohan took a long breath. “If we send soldiers by sea, we’ll need to send most of the fleet. And even then, I don’t like our chances against Braedon’s ships. Which means we’d have to send them overland, and in order to get them to northern Eibithar in time to do any good, we’d have to send them on horseback.”

“We have enough mounts to send a considerable force.”

“That’s true, Your Highness, but a mounted army is harder to provision. And of course, we’d have to ride through Caerisse or Wethyrn to get there. Their leaders may not look kindly on having our army cross their borders.”

The queen waved a hand impatiently. “I’m not concerned about that right now. I’ll be with the army, and I trust I can convince a Wethy noble that I’m not interested in conquering his dukedom. What I really want to know is what effect our army is likely to have on the course and duration of this war.”

“We’d be prolonging the war, wouldn’t we?” Alao broke in.

The master of arms glanced at Sertio, who shrugged.

“I can’t be certain, Your Highness. I think with our help the Eibitharians can repel the invasion, but as to how long such a conflict will last, I have no idea. Without our help, Kearney’s army might fall quickly, in which case we would be prolonging it. On the other hand, Eibithar might prevail even without our help, which would mean that our soldiers could bring the fighting to a swifter end.”

Olesya looked at Sertio. “What do you think, Lord Curlinte?”

“I have little to add to what Master Delrasto has already said.”

“Then you also feel that it would have been wiser for the emperor to delay,” the duke of Brugaosa asked.

Sertio stared at Edamo, the muscles in his jaw tightening. Even with Kreazur’s death and the conspiracy’s obvious involvement in the attempts on Diani’s life, Sertio still blamed House Brugaosa for Cyro’s murder. He and Edamo had not spoken in years, and Diani knew that her father still thirsted for the man’s blood.

“Yes, Lord Brugaosa,” Sertio said, his voice edged with steel, “I guess I do. Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious with everything else that’s happened? I believe the Qirsi may be behind this war, just as they were behind the attack on your daughter.”

Sertio narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth to reply.

“I’d like to know what the rest of you think,” Olesya said, before the duke could speak. “Clearly Lord Norinde opposes any involvement on our part. I believe that Lord Brugaosa now favors sending our soldiers north, as do Lady Curlinte and Lady Listaal.” She paused, eyeing the three of them. When they all nodded their agreement, she continued, “What about the rest of you?”

As it turned out, the other duchesses were split evenly, with the older women, Tamyra of Prentarlo and Rashel, opposed, and Ajy of Kinsarta and Naditia in favor.

Olesya made no effort to mask her surprise. “It seems a majority of you wish to honor Kearney’s request.”

“What about you, Your Highness?” Alao asked. “You were inclined to refuse him a short time ago. Surely your wishes in this matter carry more weight than our own.”

“You’re right, Lord Norinde. I did intend to refuse. But I find myself swayed by the arguments I’ve heard here, just as was Lord Brugaosa.”

“I fear you’re making a grave mistake, Your Highness.”

“I share your concerns, Alao. I’m not blind to the dangers. Which is why I intend to send only five hundred warriors from the royal army. We’ll add six hundred from the armies of Brugaosa, Norinde, and Macharzo-two hundred from each of you. That gives us a force of eleven hundred in all.”

Vasyonne frowned. It seemed she was eager for this fight. “What about the rest of the houses, Your Highness?”

“It would take nearly half a turn to get messages to the Southern and Eastern houses and then await the arrival of your soldiers. As it is, we’re already well into the waxing and Kearney sent his request at the start of the previous waning. I don’t wish to delay any longer.”

“Then perhaps you should take more soldiers from the three houses you named.”

“To send a larger force would be to leave the realm vulnerable to attack.”

“Eleven hundred may not be enough,” Vasyonne said, shaking her head.

“It will have to be.” Olesya faced the master of arms again. “Choose five hundred of your best riders and prepare them for the journey. And inform the quartermaster. Tell him to provision the force as best he can without slowing us down. What he can’t provide, we’ll gather ourselves as we ride.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Ohan bowed, then strode from the chamber.

“Alao, Edamo, Naditia, the three of you should leave at once. Return to your homes, choose two hundred of your finest warriors, and provision them as best you can. We’ll meet in Brugaosa as soon as possible and leave for Eibithar from there.”

The three nobles stood and bowed to her, even Alao, who still didn’t look pleased.

“Your Highness,” Vasyonne said, before the others could leave the chamber. “What about the Qirsi? Will your ministers ride with you as well?”

Olesya’s eyebrows went up. Clearly she hadn’t given any thought to this. Since Kreazur’s death there had been little doubt that the conspiracy had indeed come to Sanbira. And as Diani and Sertio grew more convinced of the first minister’s innocence, it became clearer to them, and to the queen, that there were still traitors at large, perhaps even in the royal court. The white-hairs had been excluded from the councils and kept under constant watch. The nobles still weren’t certain who remained loyal and who did not, and Diani couldn’t decide whether it was more dangerous to take suspect ministers into battle or to leave them here, where they could work their mischief in the absence of the queen and several of her duchesses and dukes.

“I think they’ll have to come with us,” Olesya said after a time. “I don’t wish to leave them where they can’t be watched.” She glanced at Diani. “And other remedies are unacceptable.”

After the attempt on her life, Diani had been so wary of her Qirsi that she had had every sorcerer in Castle Curlinte imprisoned. When the queen heard of this, she ordered Diani to release them all, but the duchess still believed it was the best way to ensure that any traitors among the ministers could be controlled.

“Your Highness-” Diani began.

“We’re talking about four Qirsi, Lady Curlinte. Abeni, and the first ministers of Norinde, Brugaosa, and Macharzo. And we’ll have over a thousand warriors guarding us. It won’t be a problem.”

The duchess looked away. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“Go now,” the queen said, looking at the three nobles standing near the doorway. “I’ll see you at Castle Brugaosa.” The three left, and Olesya turned to the others. “As for the rest of you, you should return to your castles. Be watchful, not only of your Qirsi, but of your borders and shores as well. I believe that Eibithar needs our aid, but I fear for the realm.”

Vasyonne stood. “Gods keep you safe, Your Highness.”

The others stood as well, all of them invoking the gods before they began to file from the chamber.

“Lady Curlinte, Lord Curlinte,” the queen called before Diani and Sertio reached the door. “A word please.”

Olesya waited until the last of the duchesses closed the door behind her. “Have you learned anything more about the Qirsi in my court?”

Sertio shook his head. “Still nothing, Your Highness. The traitor-”

“Or traitors,” Diani added.

Her father merely glanced at her. “Whoever it may be, this person has been quite clever about hiding his or her treachery. We’ve neither seen nor heard anything that would indicate that there is a traitor in the court.”

“Is it possible that we’ve been wrong about all this?” Olesya asked. “Perhaps there are no traitors in Yserne.”

Clearly the queen wanted to believe this; it was written on her handsome face, in the hopeful look in her dark eyes. But Diani knew better. The conspiracy was everywhere, infesting the land like some pernicious weed, spreading its tendrils through all the houses in the realm, insinuating itself into every court. It would take some time to prove this, perhaps more time than they had. Which was why they had to expose the traitors in the queen’s court as quickly as possible. This was where the evil was rooted-she was certain of that, as well. Kill the thing here, and perhaps the tendrils would wither and die.

“The conspiracy is real, Your Highness,” Diani told her. “And it’s here, in Yserne. Whoever had Kreazur killed was thoroughly familiar with this castle and this city.”

Olesya had heard this from her before, but still the words seemed to pain her, bringing a grimace to her lips and leaving her looking bent and frail.

“I’m too old to be fighting two wars at once.”

“You’re not fighting either of them alone, Your Highness.”

The queen forced a smile. “I know that, Diani. Thank you. And thank you, Sertio. I wish you could have learned more, but I know that you did what you could.”

“Your Highness,” Diani said, sensing that Olesya was about to dismiss them, “I’d like to ride with you to Eibithar.”

“Thank you, Diani, but our force will be large enough with the soldiers from the northwest houses, and we really can’t delay.”

“Forgive me, Your Highness, but you misunderstand. I don’t want to lead my army to Eibithar, I merely wish to accompany you myself.”

Sertio looked at her sharply, drawing breath to object.

“To what end?” the queen asked, before he could.

“To keep watch on Abeni and the other Qirsi. You’ll be occupied with the war, as will Naditia and the others. But since I won’t be leading an army, I can give my full attention to the conspiracy.” She faltered, but only for an instant. “Besides, this all began with the attack on me. I’d like to see it through to the end.”

“This war may be only the beginning, Diani. It may be quite dangerous to allow yourself to be driven by vengeance.”

She hadn’t said no, at least not yet. Diani pressed her advantage.

“Vengeance has nothing to do with it, Your Highness. You’ve decided to grant Kearney’s request because you see in this war the hand of the conspiracy. We saw it as well in the attempts on my life, and who knows how many times we’ve failed to see what should have been obvious to us. Our enemies may be all around us, but they won’t show themselves until we’re most vulnerable. If this war is a Qirsi feint, shouldn’t someone be with you, watching for the hidden blade?”

“Why you?” Sertio demanded. “You’ve never been to war, and as good as you are with steel, you’re not accomplished enough to guard the queen’s life. You should be in Curlinte, with your people and your army. I’ll accompany the queen.”

She should have been grateful. He was trying to protect her, as any good father would. But she heard only his challenge, his questioning of her abilities and her judgment.

“No, Father. You can’t do this. Whoever goes with the queen must be able to spot the traitor before he or she strikes. And you’re just too trusting. What good is steel if it never leaves its sheath?”

His face shaded to crimson, and he leveled a rigid finger at her chest. “Just because-”

“Stop it!” Olesya glared at them both. “I haven’t even said yet that I’ll allow one of you to accompany me, and already you’re fighting over which of you will be riding.”

“She has no place in this war, Your Highness. Better you should go without either of us than take her. You can just as easily have one of your men keep watch on the Qirsi.”

“I believe you do her a disservice, Sertio. You love her; you fear for her. I understand that.” She paused, looking at the duchess. “You must understand that, too, Diani. What he said a moment ago was intended not to diminish you, but to protect you. You may have felt slighted, but until you’re a parent yourself, you shouldn’t judge your father too harshly.”

“Your Highness-”

“Let me finish, Sertio. I know that you want to keep her safe, but she’s not a girl anymore. She’s a woman, and with Dalvia gone, she is duchess of one of Sanbira’s leading houses. The attack at the coast has left you frightened, and rightfully so. But you can’t let your life, or Diani’s, be ruled by fear. Would you have her lock herself away within the walls of her castle so that no arrows can find her, no traitors can strike at her?”

His cheeks still red, Sertio shook his head and muttered, “Of course not.”

“Then let her do this. I think it a fine idea. The two of you have been watching Abeni and the others for some time now; it makes sense that Diani should continue to do so.” Diani’s father still did not look mollified. “I’ll take good care of her, Sertio. You have my word, not only as your queen, but as your friend.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Again they bowed to the queen, before leaving the chamber. Even after they were in the corridor, Sertio said nothing and for a time they walked in silence back toward their chambers on the far end of the inner keep. Only when they reached Diani’s door did her father finally look at her, his face like stone.

“You truly think me too trusting?”

“Father-”

“Do you?”

She took a breath. “Sometimes, yes.”

“And you believe this weakens me.”

“You’re a good man, Father, and a strong leader. You have fine qualities, among them your capacity to trust and the loyalty you show your friends. I just believe that some gifts, no matter how bright, have a dark side as well.”

“You may be right. And certainly the queen was correct when she said that I wish to keep you safe. But the real reason I don’t want you making this journey is that I fear your suspicions will get the better of you. I believe you want to accompany the queen for the same reason you imprisoned all the Qirsi in Curlinte. The attempts on your life have made you so frightened that you can no longer distinguish friend from foe, at least where the white-hairs are concerned. I may trust too willingly, but you see treachery behind every pair of yellow eyes. Tell me, Diani. Which is the darker gift?”

He left her then, and long after the click of his boots on the stone floors had faded to nothing, Diani still stood there, her hand poised on the door handle, her throat so tight she could hardly draw breath.

It took more than the suspicions of a queen and the prejudice of her small-minded nobles to keep Abeni ja Krenta, Sanbira’s archminister, from knowing all that happened in Castle Yserne. Though it had been more than a turn since Olesya had trusted her with any important task or confided in her in any meaningful way, there were those in the castle who still did her bidding, because they feared the influence she once had wielded and might someday wield again, or because they feared her magic, or because, like Abeni herself, they served the Weaver’s movement. She wasn’t without her own resources, her own servants. If it was possible for an Eandi to cast a pale shadow, then that was Abeni. White-skinned, white-haired, she was a counterpart to the queen. Perhaps her power didn’t reach as far as Olesya’s-yet-but she commanded a force of her own within the walls of this palace.

She herself had seen the messenger arrive, had watched as the castle guards fell over themselves to escort this man to Olesya’s chambers. Soon after, she left her chamber to wander the corridors. The Qirsi master who trained her in the use of her magic, as well as in the ways of the Eandi courts, had once said that a person could learn much of what happened in a castle simply by walking through its passages and gardens. “The walls of a castle will whisper secrets to you, if only you listen closely enough,” she liked to say. Again and again over the years, Abeni had found this to be true. Just as she did this day. Once in the corridors, she saw several of the other nobles scurrying like mice to the queen’s chambers. She overheard two guards speaking of a missive from a king, of war to the north. So she wasn’t at all surprised later in the day when another soldier approached her to say that the queen wished to speak with her.

She found Olesya in her presence chamber sitting in the ornate olivewood chair at the end of her council table. The queen appeared composed; if the tidings contained in the messenger’s note had shaken her, she showed no sign of it now. It seemed to Abeni a sign of how deep Olesya’s mistrust ran; she had never bothered to mask her fears or concerns from the archminister in the past.

Abeni bowed, and the queen indicated a chair at the table with an open hand.

“Please sit, Archminister.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. You called for me?”

“I did. You may have heard of a messenger arriving here today.”

“Yes, I did, though beyond the fact of his arrival, I’ve heard nothing.”

“He came from Eibithar.”

She’d guessed that much, but she allowed surprise to register on her face. “Eibithar?”

“Yes, from Kearney himself. It seems that the Braedon fleet is menacing Eibithar’s north coast. At the same time, there’s been some movement of Aneiran soldiers along the Tarbin.” She paused, eyeing Abeni, as if waiting for some response.

“Kearney fears an attack?” the archminister asked.

“Yes. For all we know, there’s already war on the Eibitharian Moorlands.”

This was the Weaver’s work. The realization came to her so suddenly, with such force, that she knew it had to be true. The last time he walked in her dreams, the Weaver had told her that all their planning was nearly at an end, that the Forelands would soon be theirs. No doubt this war was another attempt-perhaps the culminating one-to weaken the armies of the Eandi courts.

“Kearney has asked me to send warriors to help him meet the emperor’s assault. In return, he offers Eibithar’s aid in our fight against the conspiracy.”

Her expression neutral, her voice even, Abeni said, “He must know that you’ll refuse.”

“Why do you say that?”

And she knew. The queen would ride to war within the next few days. These were indeed extraordinary times.

“Sanbiri queens have avoided war alliances for centuries. I merely assumed that you would do the same.”

“In truth, I had every intention of refusing. But several of the duchesses argued for going to war, as did Edamo.”

This time, Abeni’s surprise was genuine. “Lord Brugaosa? Arguing in favor of going to war?” It was almost too good to be true. She felt quite certain that this was what the Weaver wanted. The wider the conflict, the better for the movement. Edamo and the others were just the fools the Weaver had hoped they would be.

“I was as shocked as you are. But he made a fine argument for honoring Kearney’s request. He believes, as do several of the others, that there’s more to this war than there appears.”

Abruptly, Abeni felt her confidence leech away. “I don’t understand,” she said, struggling to keep her voice steady.

Again the queen was watching her, and again Abeni knew what she would say before she said it, though this time she could barely control the pounding of her heart.

“He thinks that the conspiracy has somehow contrived events to bring about this war.” She took a breath, her gaze never straying from Abeni’s face. “I fear that I must agree with him.”

“How could the traitors do such a thing, Your Highness?” Her mouth felt gritty and dry.

“I was hoping that you might be able to tell me.”

No doubt the queen had thought to catch her unawares with the accusation, to frighten her into giving herself away. In fact, she gave Abeni just what she needed to overcome her initial dismay at hearing of Edamo’s insight.

“I don’t know what you mean, Your Highness.” But her tone left little doubt that she did, that she recognized the queen’s statement for what it was: an accusation. She could be defensive now, she could be hostile. Olesya had given her just the excuse she needed to close herself off to any more questions.

“I think you know just what I mean. I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, but I had to ask.”

“Did you, Your Highness? For more than a turn now you’ve been avoiding me, refusing to hear my counsel. And in all that time, while your spies have been watching me-watching all the Qirsi in Castle Yserne-you’ve found nothing to tie me to the conspiracy.” Seeing Olesya pale, she gave a sad smile. “Yes, I know about the soldiers who follow me, and about Lady Curlinte’s attempts to prove me a traitor.”

“Abeni-”

“I understand why you did it, Your Highness. The betrayal of Curlinte’s first minister left all of us shaken. But I’d think that after all this time looking in vain for signs that I’d betrayed the realm, you’d be ready to trust me again.”

The queen’s eyes strayed to the window. “I’m afraid it’s not that easy.”

“Why isn’t it, Your Highness?” Abeni demanded, surprising herself with the fervor of her question. “What have I done to make you doubt me so?”

She saw Olesya hesitate, so there was something. But after a moment the queen shook her head. “It’s nothing, Abeni. You’ve done nothing.” The woman took a breath, then gave a brittle smile. “Indeed, I’d like you to ride with us to Eibithar. I’ll be grateful for your counsel, and for the powers you’ll wield on our behalf.”

“You want me to come with you?” Abeni said, sounding, she knew, like a dullard.

The queen actually smiled. “Yes. Other ministers will be accompanying us as well. I intend to bring five hundred soldiers from the royal army, and another two hundred each from Norinde, Brugaosa, and Macharzo. Alao, Edamo, and Naditia will be riding with us, as will their first ministers.”

The first minister of Brugaosa remained loyal to his duke, but Craeffe and Filtem were already with the movement. Having them at hand for the coming battle might prove most fortuitous. Abeni would have liked to have Listaal’s first minister there as well. She hadn’t turned to the movement yet, but she was close. Craeffe had been working her for nearly a turn, as had Abeni. But she had no cause to complain. Three of the four ministers riding with Sanbira’s army belonged to the movement. The Weaver would be pleased.

“You trust us with this?” she asked the queen.

Again, the hesitation. No, it seemed to say, but we want you where we can watch you. “We’ll have to learn to trust again. All of us. And in the meantime, we need you.”

It was a more candid answer than she had expected. “All right,” she said. “When do we ride?”

“Soon. In the next few days. I’ll know more after I’ve had a chance to speak again with the master of arms and the quartermaster.”

“Very good, Your Highness. I’ll be ready.”

“I know you will, Archminister. Thank you.”

Abeni bowed and left her, intending to return to her bedchamber. As she reached it, however, she found Craeffe waiting for her, an avid look in her large bright eyes. Silently, Abeni opened the door to the chamber and they both stepped inside.

“You’ve heard?” Craeffe asked quietly, once the door was closed and locked.

“Yes.” Abeni didn’t particularly like the woman, but she knew that the Weaver expected them to work together.

Craeffe gave a cadaverous grin. “Filtem, too.” Abeni had wondered before if she and Norinde’s first minister might be lovers; seeing how pleased Craeffe looked now, she felt certain of it.

“I know.” Abeni could see that the minister expected her to say more, but she could think of nothing to add. There was a queer feeling in her chest-not apprehension, but not eagerness either. She had no name for it.

“This must be it, what we’ve been waiting for.”

Abeni nodded. “I’ve had the same thought. If so, we’re most fortunate to have all three of us together. It almost seems that the gods are smiling on us.”

Craeffe’s grin widened. “Did you ever doubt that they would?”

Yes, a voice within her replied. Even now I do. But Abeni merely made herself smile.

“Something’s bothering you. What is it?”

She was always probing, looking for weaknesses she could exploit. Abeni was one of the Weaver’s chancellors and Craeffe wished to be. She was nothing if not a creature of her ambitions.

“It’s nothing, Craeffe. Go back to your duchess.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Abeni turned away. Regardless of her motives, Craeffe was with her in this movement. She needed to know. “Edamo believes that the movement is behind this war, and he’s convinced Olesya of this. They’ll be watching us.”

Craeffe laughed. “Of course they will. But Edamo is just guessing. He knows nothing for certain.”

“He’s right.”

“Of course he is. It changes nothing. Even forewarned, they’re not clever enough to defeat the Weaver.” A pause, and then, her voice solicitous and low, “I’m surprised to hear you so filled with doubts, Archminister. Perhaps you question the Weaver’s wisdom, or his power?”

Abeni faced her again, a smile fixed on her lips. “Not at all, Craeffe. I just fear that some of his servants may not be worthy of him.”

Unruffled, Craeffe raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry, cousin. I’m certain that you’ll do the best that you can.” She turned on her heel and pulled the door open, not bothering to look at Abeni again. “See you in Brugaosa, Archminister.”