Katrine howled her approval, but quickly stifled the sound.
“That is your version of events,” Emoril said stiffly.
“Oh?” Mina asked. “And what’s yours?”
Emoril glanced at her various allies—Revine, Sherelle, others whose names Rayna did not know—before locking eyes with Rayna. “Our Overlord attempted to make peace with the Fenearen savages. In return, Bayne and Silver sent their wild niece to be our queen, only to have her commit treason, escape justice, and return to kill the man she'd promised to wed.”
Rayna’s grip on her goblet tightened. How could such a twisted perception of her history exist? How could these people be so deluded to believe it? And why was Seperun trying to make peace with such monstrous people? Her claws extended as she stood, snarling. “I’ve heard enough!”
Seperun crossed to her. “Rayna, please.”
“I’m sorry, but I will not sit here and listen to these lies. Thank you for your hospitality, Seperun, but we’ve already stayed too long. Mina, Katrine.” They rose as she spoke. “We’re leaving.”
Rayna stormed out the doors, leaving the dinner guests shouting and bickering over her display. Her behavior would do little to dispel negative Fenearen stereotypes, but she was too livid to care. Katrine and Mina were close behind her with no complaints.
Seperun hurried after them. He called after Rayna in the vestibule and she reluctantly turned around to face him.
Swann, Cassian, and Daveed entered behind him, closing the door to the dining hall for privacy.
“I’m sorry, Seperun.” Rayna sighed. Her anger faded with each moment she was away from Emoril and her supporters. “I didn’t mean to make things more difficult for you.”
Seperun shook his head. “You did nothing wrong, my dear. Perhaps it was overly ambitious of me to include you in tonight’s attempt at peace-making. People can be very irritable when it comes to their finances, I’m afraid.”
“Are they really losing that much?” Mina wanted to know.
Swann raised his white eyebrows, looking to Seperun.
The Regent shrugged. “They're losing enough. Certain exports like wine and textiles are far more valuable to the Kyrean markets than to those of our other Peninsulars. But, we will stabilize.”
Rayna nodded. “I’m glad to hear it.” She knew little of economics—Fenearens didn’t utilize currency—but it seemed a complex subject best left to experts. “But, I meant what I said about having stayed too long. Would it be possible for you to send word to your contacts in the closest harbor town? We must leave tonight.”
“But Rayna,” Daveed said, “it’s the middle of the night.”
“Indeed,” Seperun murmured, “can you not at least wait until morning?”
Seperun's voice sounded different and his scent soured. Something was wrong. He was nervous. Rayna took a step backward.
“Rayna,” Seperun continued, “it would be dangerous to leave at such an hour. Besides, I cannot guarantee my men will be ready in time if you leave now.”
“Thank you for your concern, but we won’t mind waiting for word. Which harbor did you say your contacts would meet us?”
Seperun exhaled. Beside him, both Cassian and Daveed stiffened.
“Rayna, I haven’t yet had the opportunity to make arrangements. You need to stay—”
“Why don’t you want us to leave?” Mina’s river-water eyes narrowed.
“Mina,” Cassian spoke softly, as if calming a wild animal. “Why would you want to leave in the middle of the night?”
“We need to get out of here.” Katrine turned toward the corridor, but several more guards appeared from behind the corner, blocking her path.
“What is this?” Rayna rounded on Seperun.
Seperun’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t want it to come to this. I hoped you would stay here of your own choosing until—”
“Until what?” Mina reached beneath her skirt, pulling a dagger from a thigh holster.
Both Cassian and Daveed reached for their swords, but Seperun grabbed their hands. “Don’t!”
They obeyed, but neither man took their gaze from Mina’s weapon.
“Until your aunt’s men arrived to take you home,” Seperun finished.
Rayna blinked. Of course Silver would've sent word to Seperun. How could she have been so foolish? Seperun was a good man, and a friend, but his loyalty would be to Silver, his political ally, over Rayna. “She told you to keep us here.”
Seperun nodded.
Mina lowered her dagger.
“Inviting us to dinner, the elaborate dressing... You were stalling us?” asked Rayna.
“Yes.” Seperun sighed. “I'm so sorry, Rayna. I would not have misled you if I felt I had a choice.”
“What was it you said?” Rayna asked Mina. “Old habits? Once a spy, always a liar I suppose, Seperun.”
He clenched his jaw, clearly stung by her words. “You will stay in your quarters until Silver's emissaries arrive.”
“I see.” Rayna's lip twitched. “And until we are collected, we’re to be your prisoners, Regent?”
“You will be comfortable and safe. The same could not be said if I permitted you to go on this mission you're planning.” He addressed his lieutenants and guards. “Escort our guests to their suite and bar the door.”
“Regent, if I may—”
But Seperun did not let Swann finish. “I am sorry you had to witness this, Lord Swann. Your intercession is noble, but I must honor Alphena Silver’s wishes when it comes to her people and family.”
Cassian and Daveed flanked the women. The other four guards waited by the exit.
Katrine growled, looking to Rayna for guidance. What do we do? she asked in Wolven.
“Rayna, I trust you will not attack my men,” Seperun said sharply. “As you well know, they are only following my orders, and I am only honoring your aunt’s.”
She swallowed hard. “You know I won’t.”
“Thank you. I will come for you when Roxen, Channon, and the True Wolves arrive.”
With no other choice, Rayna turned and followed the guards down the corridor to their tower.
Are you sure about this? We could fight our way out. Katrine rumbled lowly.
Rayna shook her head. Cassian and Daveed are talented warriors. We won’t get past them without harming them, and we can’t do that. As Seperun said, they’re honoring Silver’s wishes.
“Oi,” Mina whispered almost soundlessly. “Want to update me in Clanspeak?”
“We’re commenting on how few options we have,” Rayna whispered back. “Swann's trick may have slowed them down, but I'm certain our friends won't be fooled for long.”
They reached the tower. Cassian and Daveed escorted them up the staircase. Once they reached the top, the Maenorens turned to go.
“Mina,” Cassian looked back at them, “Rayna, Katrine. I am sorry as well, for what it’s worth.”
Daveed stared at his boots, but said nothing.
“Just go.” Mina sat on the chaise, dropping her head into her hand.
Daveed left. Cassian hesitated before he left, shutting the door behind him. Multiple locks clicked into place.
Once again, Rayna was trapped in Anhorde.
Chapter Thirteen
Tallis Terayan drummed his fingers on the marble table. To his right, Amblin Laevul’s eyes were shut. Terayan knew it was best not to address Amblin when he was in his meditative state, but impatience needled him.
“Is this some kind of ill-conceived power play? Keeping us waiting. It’s childish.”
Amblin raised his weak chin, but did not open his eyes. “Or, they happen to be late.”
“You, of all men, should know that things don't just happen to be in the Upper City.”
Amblin’s smile was thin as his charcoal black hair. “It's four minutes past the hour, Tallis. If that is Amollo’s idea of a power play I do not think we have much to worry about.”
“It is not the boy who concerns me
, rather those that flock around him.” But Terayan saw there was no use pushing the issue further. His gaze darted around the sparsely decorated room. There were no tapestries, curtains, or alcoves—nowhere for a spy to hide. A chandelier above the lone table provided light. The smoke and light made his eyes water as he stared into the leaping candle flames.
Finally, the two great doors pushed open and the guard announced the arrival of the other Councilors. “Councilors Anders Amollo, Paullus Caere, and Vazzur Darien.” The guard retreated quickly, closing the doors as soon as the three men were past the threshold.
Amollo led the men with outstretched arms. His flamboyant robes of purple silk stood out against the more somber fashions sported by Caere and Darien. The youngest of the Councilors, and the elected representative of the common people, Terayan knew handsome, bright-eyed Amollo represented the largest threat, despite Caere’s recent intimidation. Paullus Caere strode in after him, his square head held higher than could possibly be comfortable. He did not make eye contact with Terayan.
Ancient Vazzur Darien tottered in last and collapsed onto his seat. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his wrinkled brow. “Our apologies, gentlemen. We were delayed in our meeting with the blacksmith's guild.”
“Oh were you late? I hadn't noticed.” Terayan slipped his pocket watch into his robe.
“Well let's not waste any more of your valuable time then, Tallis.” Amollo grinned, dimples punctuating his overly friendly tone.
“Let us call this session to order.” Bulldog-faced Caere removed a slip of parchment from his pocket. “We’ve a number of issues to discuss.”
“Indeed we do.” Amollo’s smiling face hardened to an affected look of concern. “As Vazzur said, our meeting with the blacksmith’s guild took longer than expected.”
“Concerns over the price of iron?” Terayan stifled a yawn. He had little interest in governing; playing politics was a necessary step for his goals, but it exhausted him more than any magic could.
“No,” Caere grunted. “If you spent any time listening to the people we’ve been elected to govern, you’d have no doubt what their concerns were.”
“Oh?” Terayan almost wished the Chief Strategist would make good on his threats and attempt to censure Terayan for his unauthorized military activity. It would at least break the tedium. Perhaps the bulldog was biding his time.
“The smiths brought to our attention the continued concern over the recent disappearances in the Lower City,” Caere explained. “Just last night, an entire family went missing. Evidence suggests they were murdered in their beds—given the bloody state of their home. But the bodies themselves are nowhere to be found.”
“Tossed in the harbor, I expect,” said Amblin. “They’ll wash up eventually.”
Amollo frowned. “I know as Spymaster it isn’t your purview to be empathetic, but you could at least feign some compassion, Amblin. Our people are frightened, and they have a right to be.”
“Forgive me.” Amblin closed his beady eyes. Terayan suspected this was to keep from rolling them. “I only meant that murder is an unfortunate reality for those who move in such circles. Perhaps this family owed a debt and were unable to pay. There’s more than one crime syndicate operating in Halmstead happy to take repayment in blood.”
“There are those who blame other forces,” Amollo said. “Though, I do not lend much credence to such rumors.”
“You mean that Rayna Myana, the Wolf Witch, is responsible for these killings?” Amblin laughed. “It’s preposterous. We would know if she were in the city.”
Terayan had to agree. It was a preposterous story—one that he and Amblin had spread. Any opportunity to stir up anti-Peninsular sentiment was a boon to Terayan’s plans. Not to mention, it allayed suspicion from the true cause of the disappearances.
“I know that,” Amollo said. “But it demonstrates how badly this crime spree is affecting morale.”
“I suggest we make an official inquiry,” Darien offered between painful huffs. As Garrison had informed Terayan, the old man's gout was worse than ever. “Make sure people know we are taking the matter seriously.”
“I agree.” Caere squinted at his notes. “I also propose doubling the harbor guard and increasing the range of their patrols. The heightened military presence should deter whatever criminal element is behind these attacks.”
“Very well.” Terayan steepled his hands. “Shall we move on?”
“Yes.” Caere straightened his already impeccable posture. “There is the matter of your lapse in judgment.”
“You mean my wounding of your pride?”
“More than eight hundred men are dead because of your unauthorized military aid to the Maenorens. This isn’t about pride.” Caere wrote something on his insufferable notes. “I have of course informed the other Councilors of your mistake.”
The carefully controlled flame of hatred burning in Terayan’s chest threatened to ignite. Only a sidelong glance from Amblin reminded Terayan to douse the flame. “And do you all agree it was a mistake?”
Vazzur Darien took the opportunity to appear useful. “What else would you call it? Our men are dead, and for what?” Spittle punctuated his words. “Rhael Demetrian lost. And we lost a profitable trading relationship, now that this pretender Markus Seperun has assumed control and issued unreasonable embargoes.”
“It was to protect this profitable arrangement that I made the decision to offer military aid. As Treasurer of our nation, it is my responsibility to protect our financial interests. The rest of you were not in the city, and there simply was not time to send a message to your respective estates.”
“And what good our aid did.” Caere shook his head. “Is that what you would have me tell the orphaned children? That their fathers died protecting our financial interests?”
“Tell them what you will.”
“I’ve heard enough.” Caere clenched his fist. “I move to officially censure Councilor Tallis Terayan. He ought to be forced to make a public apology for the harm his rash actions caused.”
“Be forced to humiliate myself in front of the voting gentry less than a year before the next election cycle? How convenient for my opponents. Your brother-in-law is considering a run, is he not?”
“How dare you make such insinuations!” Caere stood.
Terayan leaned farther back in his seat. “Merely an observation. Shall we vote?”
“Aye.” Caere gripped the back of his chair.
“Before we do,” Amblin spoke just above a whisper, but all turned to him. “I think we ought to inform the other councilors of our recent progress on the Maenoren front.”
“Ah.” Terayan smiled. “Yes. It is worth mentioning that our relationship with Maenor may not be irrevocably ruined.”
“Oh? How is that?” Anders Amollo feigned mild interest, but given his family’s wine and textile trading connections, Terayan knew continued trade with Maenor to be of particular concern for him.
“Amblin and I made in-roads with Maenoren nobles beyond Rhael Demetrian. We have since worked to maintain these connections, despite the recent change in leadership. Such factions are quite grateful for the aid we gave during the war.”
“What are you suggesting?” Caere glared.
“Merely that new governments are notoriously volatile. Maenor has suffered one coup. Perhaps it won’t be long until they endure another. When they do, the new regime will not forget those who have aided them. A resource-rich, war-torn land offers immense possibilities, gentlemen. Now.” Terayan clapped his hands. “As you were saying, Paullus?”
Caere cleared his throat. “All those in favor of censuring Councilor Tallis Terayan, say aye.”
Caere and Darien voiced their assent.
Amollo looked to Terayan. “Although I am deeply saddened by the loss of our brave soldiers,” he placed his hand against his heart, “I cannot fault you for your actions, Tallis. My vote is against this action.”
Caere sighed. “An
d as Tallis and his pet snake aren’t likely to vote against their own interests, the motion fails.” He re-took his seat.
Following this minor excitement, they launched into the usual tedium of tax rates and grain shipments. Terayan faked interest and opinions, debating the others, reaching compromises over pointless issues. With Caere thwarted and no one the wiser to the true danger stalking the Lower City, Terayan considered this first Council meeting of the new session a success. His political and magical plans were well in-hand, the white wolf was in his grasp, and the seer soon would be. All would be prepared for his Ascension.
After the meeting, Amblin followed Terayan back to his chambers. “Tallis, if we are to make the best use of the power your Ascension will bring, we must have control of the Kyrean military. Caere will not willingly cede us this power.”
“I'm aware.” Terayan settled onto his couch. “You and your sister want nothing more than to gut the other Councilors, I know, but we must time their assassination carefully. We must allow this fear of Peninsulars to foment and reach a boiling point. Then, when we frame Peninsular spies for the Councilors' deaths, the armies will be begging me to take control and wage war.”
Amblin's already thin lips disappeared in a scowl. “Very well.”
“I'm far more interested in Aronak's progress. Do you think Isaac's death served the intended purpose?”
Amblin considered that. “He certainly saw the old man as a father, as we'd hoped. Losing him has driven the boy mad with rage.” Amblin smiled. “Today, the guards told me he had punched his knuckles bloody against the bars.”
“Excellent.” Terayan reached for a carafe of wine on the table beside the couch and poured himself a glass. “But we must keep him in this state until we are prepared to make the sacrifice. When Rayna arrives, we'll have our seer blood. The runes in the focus chamber are prepared, the needed herbs are collected, but we still need more bodies.”
“We can have Garrison increase his efforts in the Lower City. The more disappearances we can orchestrate, the more terrified the common people will become. I'm certain Garrison and his men will be happy to oblige us.”
Twice Blessed Page 14
