The Broken Throne

by Christopher Nuttall

  Her eyes wandered down the table, picking out names and faces. Sir William, Alassa’s Master of Arms; one of the very few men, perhaps the only man, Jade trusted with his wife’s safety. Randor had banished Sir William—a bluff solid man with kind eyes—from his court, after Alassa had been imprisoned, but he’d made his way to Swanhaven shortly after Alassa proclaimed herself the Princess Regnant. Lord Summer, Lord Wolfe and Lord Dandelion, the last glowering as if he was daring anyone to make fun of his name; they were noblemen who’d thrown their lot in with Alassa, giving her a legitimacy she might have otherwise struggled to obtain. And, at the end of the table, sat Mayor Heron and Lord Hollyford, both tradesmen who’d earned wealth and power as a result of the New Learning. They might not be able to trace their families back to the old days, but they were competent and capable. Emily had known them in Cockatrice. Somehow, she wasn’t surprised they’d wound up on the war council.

  “Lady Emily,” Alassa said, her face carefully impassive. “What – precisely – happened when you reached the castle?”

  Emily took a breath, then ran through the whole story as concisely as possible. Jade and Imaiqah looked pleased, but the three lords didn’t look like they believed her. Emily had a nasty feeling that they were sitting on the fence, even though Randor would never forgive them if they fell into his clutches. They had a great deal to lose if the king won the war. She hoped Alassa – and Jade – were keeping an eye on them. If there was anyone likely to think about switching sides, particularly if the war went badly, it was the aristocrats.

  And they already have reason to complain, Emily thought. Jade, charged with building up Alassa’s army, had been reluctant to put aristocrats in high positions simply because they were aristocrats. They feel they’re being denied positions that are owed to them.

  “The road to Winter Flower lies open, then,” Alassa said. “Lord Cat? Do you have anything you wish to add?”

  “No, Your Highness,” Cat said. He shot Emily a wink. “Lady Emily has touched on the important parts.”

  “I trust the prisoners will be ransomed,” Lord Summer said. “Our cash reserves are quite low.”

  Alassa looked at Emily, who inclined her head to Cat.

  “We did not capture anyone of particular note,” Cat said, stiffly. “Their families may pay a ransom for their safe return, if the king lets them, but they will probably not be able to raise a considerable sum. I think we would be better served by keeping them prisoner.”

  Emily nodded in agreement. Randor was unlikely to be keen on ransoming the prisoners, not when the money would go straight into Alassa’s war chest. He didn’t need the prisoners returned – it wasn’t as if they’d captured Sir Roger or Lord Nightingale – and their families weren’t important or influential enough to force his hand. He’d be more likely to refuse permission to collect a ransom than grant it.

  “We still need this war to end quickly,” Lord Summer said. “What happens if we are unable to pay the army?”

  “It comes apart,” Jade said, flatly.

  “Impressive,” Cat muttered, so quietly that Emily was the only one who could hear him. “A nobleman who understands the sinews of war.”

  Emily tapped her lips, warning Cat to be quiet even as she struggled not to smile herself. It was impressive, she supposed, although Lord Summer did have some genuine military experience. She’d heard that he’d been at Farrakhan, even though she hadn’t met him there. General Pollack had assigned Lord Summer to cover the army’s flanks, then harass the invading army during the siege. He’d done well, probably. There certainly hadn’t been any suggestion he’d been derelict in his duty.

  Alassa tapped the table, sharply. “The king” – Emily caught the hint of pain in her voice – “and the Noblest have been weakened by their recent battle. Reports are vague, if not outright contradictory, but it seems clear that both sides took a beating.”

  “Then we have a window of opportunity to go on the offensive,” Lord Wolfe said. He was young, no older than Jade or Cat. Emily hadn’t met him at court, but she’d heard he was both brave and foolhardy. He’d also been nominated as a potential husband for Imaiqah, before she’d started exchanging letters with Sir Roger. “Let us strike now and win our rights!”

  “That might be dangerous, My Lord,” Jade said, coolly. “The vast majority of our levies have seen nothing in the way of actual combat. They are simply not ready to go into battle. Our more experienced men, such as they are, have been doing what they can, but our forces are not ready. The raw material is there, yet it will take time to shape them into combat troops.”

  “And I was told that all you had to do was put a gun in a man’s hand,” Lord Wolfe said. His tone was snide, but Emily heard a hint of doubt underneath. He’d grown up in a world where a fast cavalry charge could win the day; now, charging into the teeth of massed gunfire was suicide. “Do we not have enough guns?”

  “They need to learn everything from taking orders to marching in line,” Jade said, evenly. “And even though it is easy to teach them how to fire a gun, it is harder to show them how to use their weapons effectively. There is still too much work to do.”

  Alassa gave him a considering look. “How long?”

  “I’d say we need a month, perhaps two,” Jade said. “And then we’ll be ready to take the offensive.”

  Emily frowned, wondering if Alassa and Jade had planned the entire conversation ahead of time. He wouldn’t contradict her in public, but... he was urging caution without forcing Alassa to rule for or against her councillors. Alassa didn’t lack either courage or cunning – or, for that matter, an understanding of the men she had to rule. She couldn’t afford to come down on Lord Wolfe like a ton of bricks – that would anger him for nothing – but she couldn’t allow him to win the day either.

  “Then there’s still room for a harassment campaign,” Lord Wolfe said. “Let us strike into Winter Flower and force the king’s whore to fight!”

  “We shall see,” Alassa said, her face darkening. Emily knew her well enough to hear the anger in her tone. Her friend had never forgiven Alicia, Baroness Winter Flower, for sleeping with Alassa’s father and bearing his child. “Jade? The map?”

  Jade unrolled the map of Zangaria, positioning it so that everyone could see. It was a real work of art; it had been designed to allow its owner to draw marks on the material without damaging the map itself. Someone had probably worked magic into the parchment. It would remain intact long after everyone at the table was dead and gone.

  “We have heard that the king intends to take the war into the Harkness Lands,” Jade said, bluntly. “So far, we have no reason to doubt it. It will take him several weeks to relieve Castle Blackstone, then move against Harkness itself. That will put the majority of his army a number of weeks from Winter Flower.”

  Emily had her doubts, although she trusted Jade’s opinion. King Randor’s infantry could march roughly ten to fifteen miles a day, assuming they were marching down reasonably decent roads. Covering more ground would exhaust them by the time they reached their destination. His cavalry would be able to move faster, of course, yet they wouldn’t be able to do more than slow Alassa down by themselves. Indeed, perhaps they should hope that Randor did force his men to march at a terrifying pace. They would be in no state for a fight when they arrived.

  “The king may then stab into the Gaillard, Silversmith and Thornwood Lands,” Jade continued. “It depends on precisely what the Noblest do when the king crushes Baroness Harkness. They may simply grovel in the mud for forgiveness.”

  “Perhaps,” Emily said. The noblemen of Zangaria were the most treacherous people she’d ever encountered. If the Noblest thought they’d lose, they’d happily grovel to the king. “But surrenders are not being accepted.”

  “Then they will have to fight,” Jade said. “This gives us an opening.”

  He traced out a line on the map. “Assuming the situation doesn’t change, I propose sending our regiments directly into Winter Fl
ower, with the intention of taking and holding the major cities. That will force the king to fight to defend Winter Flower or allow us to secure road and waterways leading to Alexis. Worse, perhaps, it will also cut him off from the barony’s resources. It will no longer be sending money to his war chest and conscripts to his armies.”

  It will also alienate Alicia, Emily thought. She will see her barony slip away, no matter what she does.

  “This will give us time to build up further regiments and support bases for a drive on Alexis itself,” Jade said. “Once the capital falls, the king will be cut off from his support and isolated. At that point, we can come to terms with him.”

  Or kill him, Emily added, silently. Would Alassa kill her father? She’d already had one chance to win the war in a single blow and chosen to let it go. Randor will never accept a quiet retirement.

  “It seems a workable plan,” Lord Dandelion said. “But what happens to the captured barony?”

  “That will be decided later,” Alassa said. Her lips tightened, just for a second. “We have to win the war first.”

  She looked from face to face. “Does anyone have any concerns about Jade’s plan?”

  Jade’s plan, Emily thought. They won’t dare criticize something you wrote, but they’ll happily tear Jade’s planning to shreds.

  “Merely that it gives the king too much time to wreak havoc in the south,” Lord Summer said. “We don’t know he won’t forgive the Noblest.”

  “A valid concern,” Alassa said. “But we have little choice.”

  She raised her voice, slightly. “We’ll hold another meeting tomorrow. If you have any concerns about the plan, after you’ve slept on it, raise them then. Until then... dismissed.”

  Emily remained seated as the lords and tradesmen vacated their seats. They wouldn’t be happy that Alassa was holding an inner council meeting, one from which they were excluded, but there was little choice. Alassa couldn’t let her hair down in front of anyone she didn’t trust completely. Emily leaned back in her chair as Jade tightened the privacy wards, scanning the room for any sign of magical or mundane surveillance. They were in the heart of a heavily-guarded castle and he was still feeling paranoid.

  “You did very well,” Alassa said, once the doors were closed. “Both of you did very well.”

  “It was nothing,” Cat said, deadpan. “But we’ll happily accept any rewards you choose to bestow.”

  “The reward for completing a dangerous mission is another dangerous mission,” Jade said, dryly. He wrapped an arm around Alassa and held her, gently. “I’m sure we’ll find another tempting opportunity to get you killed sooner or later.”

  “Preferably later,” Imaiqah said.

  Emily smiled at her oldest – her first – friend. “How have you been?”

  Imaiqah winced. The healers had fixed the physical damage the king’s torturers had inflicted on her, but they’d been unable to do anything about the mental damage. Imaiqah would have to recover alone. Alassa had kept her busy, ensuring that Imaiqah had no time to brood, but she couldn’t be busy all the time. Emily had tried to talk to Imaiqah about it, the last time they’d been together, yet her friend had been reluctant to discuss it. Emily’s imagination offered far too many explanations she didn’t want to believe.

  “I’ve been better,” Imaiqah said. “But I’ve been keeping busy.”

  “She’s been supplying the army,” Alassa said, with obvious pride. “And she’s forged new trading links with Beneficence.”

  “Good,” Emily said. Beneficence had been turning itself into a factory city before Vesperian’s Folly had gone bust, taking the city’s fragile economy with it. The inhabitants would probably welcome the chance to sell to Alassa, despite the risk of angering King Randor. Alassa paid in cash. Besides, she would also be a much better neighbor. “Take care of yourself, please.”

  Alassa nodded, impatiently. “Do you have any concerns about the plan?”

  “Merely that it will... upset... Alicia,” Emily said. “She is supplying us with useful information.”

  “Assuming she hasn’t been caught and turned,” Jade said, sharply. “The king could be telling her precisely what to write.”

  “That’s always a risk,” Cat said. “And well... let’s face it, what we’re hearing is what we want to hear.”

  “We’ll just have to take the risk,” Emily said. Alicia was not in a good position. If she was caught, she would have no hope of escape. It was rare for a woman to be executed, particularly a noblewoman, but there were worse things that could happen to them. “We would know if Randor was slipping an army into Winter Flower, wouldn’t we?”

  “Probably,” Jade said. “He might be able to get a cavalry unit across the river and into Winter Flower – or Swanhaven – without being spotted, but I don’t see how he could get his entire army into position. We have pickets covering all the major roads in and out of Swanhaven.”

  “Maybe he’ll bring them by ship,” Cat suggested. “Those riverboats could carry a few hundred men apiece, couldn’t they?”

  “Perhaps,” Alassa said. She cleared her throat. “Alicia’s barony... like I said, we’ll decide what will happen to the barony after the war is over. If she serves me well, she can have it in her sole possession. I doubt she’ll want to keep Lord Burrows.”

  “Assuming he survives,” Jade said. “Lord Burrows is King Randor’s man, through and through.”

  Emily nodded in agreement. King Randor wouldn’t have given Alicia’s hand in marriage – and the immense dowry that came with it – to someone he didn’t trust completely. Lord Burrows had a good reputation for loyalty. And, being a known homosexual, he wouldn’t be easily seduced into disloyalty by his wife. And he wouldn’t care that his wife had given birth to a bastard.

  “We can consider that later too,” Alassa said. She smiled, tiredly. “For the moment, then, perhaps you will all join me for dinner. We can have a private meal, far from the maddening crowd.”

  “I’d like that,” Emily said. Her stomach growled, reminding her that it had been far too long since she’d eaten anything more substantial than a ration bar. “How have you been coping here?”

  “It’s been fun, in a way,” Alassa said. She looked pensive, just for a second. “But the real test will begin soon.”

  Yeah, Emily thought. You’re going to war against your father.

  Chapter Four

  EMILY OPENED HER EYES AND STARED at the ceiling, feeling oddly unsure of herself. The room was one of Jade’s finer guestrooms, a suite that was the closest the Nameless World could come to a five-star hotel, yet she felt uneasy. She tensed as the wards quivered against her awareness, warning her someone was trying to get through the door. A spell formed in her mind as she undid the wards holding the door closed, allowing the intruder to step into the room. A maid, her eyes wide with fear, stumbled forward. She carried a small collection of firelighters and wood in her arms.

  “My Lady,” she said, torn between clutching the wood to her chest and curtseying. “I...”

  “It’s alright,” Emily said, checking that Cat was decently covered. “You can make the fire, then withdraw.”

  The maid managed a half-curtsey, then hurried over to the fireplace and set to work. Emily watched her for a moment, wondering how she’d ended up in the castle. Was she the sister or daughter of someone already working there? Or had she merely been lucky enough to win a coveted position? Emily found it hard to believe there was so much competition for scullery maids and other lowly positions, particularly when some of the castle’s lords and masters had been far less decent than Jade, but she knew it was true. Service in a castle could be a girl’s way out of a downtrodden life, perhaps even a chance to earn wealth and power. Emily knew that would change – women were starting to work outside the home in Cockatrice – but it would take years. She doubted the poor girl in front of her had a hope of seeing a factory.

  “Thank you, My Lady,” the maid said, as the fire came to life. “I�
�ll be back to build up the fireplace in an hour.”

  She dropped a curtsey, then backed out of the room as if she expected Emily to blast her to atoms the moment she turned her back. Emily shook her head, torn between amusement and sympathy. She wouldn’t kill the girl, let alone report her to her superiors, but she was perhaps unique among the nobility. Emily had seen great ladies order lowly maids flogged until they were bleeding, simply for making small mistakes in etiquette. The poor girls had no choice but to take it.

  Cat stirred and sat up, blinking sleep from his eyes. “What time is it?”

  “Seven o’clock,” Emily told him, glancing at the clock on the stone walls. “Time you got up and out of bed.”

  She pulled a blanket around herself as she stood and headed for the bathroom. Cat had seen her naked – he’d been inside her – and there was no one else around, but she wasn’t comfortable with anything that smacked of public nudity. The bathroom was as luxurious as the rest of the suite, yet the tub in the middle of the room had no taps. Instead, someone had filled the tub with cold water and left it to settle. Emily muttered one spell to clean the water and another to heat it, then clambered into the tub and sighed in relief. The warmth slowly started to undo the kinks in her muscles. She’d been hurting more than she realized.

  Someone knocked on the door. Emily listened as Cat answered, his voice too low for her to make out the words. A moment later, she heard him padding back across the bedroom and into the bathroom. She fought the urge to sink further into the water as he entered the room, stark naked. She hoped he hadn’t shown himself to the messenger.

  “The Levellers are arriving after breakfast,” Cat said, as he climbed into the bathtub and gave her a quick kiss. “Alassa wants us both there.”