Fate of the Tyrant (The Eoriel Saga Book 3)

by Kal Spriggs

  "It's a mix," he responded. "Some want to sign on with Lady Katarina, but most want to see how things work out. The people in the north remember the Armen raids, while those in the south have seen little benefit from Lord Hector's campaigns against the raiders."

  Kerrel nodded, it was much as she had heard, then. She took a seat across from him. "Very well... what about you?"

  The spy snorted, "Me? Why would I have an opinion in this matter?"

  "You're a plotter and a schemer... and before you saved my life you were one of Katarina's highest advisers," Kerrel said. "And I already know she has sworn an oath to the High Kings... which if she does become the Duchess, would put someone in position to bring the Duchy of Masov into alignment with your goals." She knew he supported the restoration of the High Kings, though he wasn't a member of the Luciel Order or one of the other secret societies dedicated to that purpose.

  He sighed, "It would. But while I like Katarina, Lord Hector is as good a choice... given the right influencing factors."

  "You mean me," Kerrel said in a flat voice. She was the daughter of Baroness Ingail of the Duchy of Asador. A marriage of state between her and Hector would forge an alliance that would put him in a very powerful position. While she cared for Hector, possibly even loved him, she didn't like the idea of being married off to him for political expediency.

  He sighed, "Not necessarily. Your influence is important. An alliance between him and your mother would be good. I spoke more about his... temperament. He's too quick to resort to violence, too accepting of war as an option. His soldiers trust him, but they don't love him. He has a reputation for ruthlessness..."

  "It takes a cost on him," Kerrel interjected. "I've seen it, he doesn't want to resort to violence, it is just..."

  "He studies his problems and most of the time responds with bloodshed," Jay nodded. "And while in some cases he's right, in others, it's merely the expedient method to resolve his problems."

  Kerrel wanted to argue that... but she felt he was right. Hector did see most problems as threats and he responded to a threat with force. "Fine, so you think he needs to be moderated or controlled somehow?" Her eyes narrowed, "What, like his mother?"

  He grimaced at that, "I don't trust her, Kerrel. She has secrets and if you think for an instant that she possesses anything less than pure ambition, you've misjudged her." He shook his head, "Halyna is very dangerous. I half suspect she had some role in Covle Darkbit's attempt to seize the Ryftguard."

  Kerrel sat back and her eyes went narrow, "I don't know about that. She seemed ambitious, yes, but not reckless."

  "Believe me," he said with a dark tone, "she will do anything to secure her son's position."

  Kerrel didn't respond for a moment as she considered it. Halyna had traveled with her for months. The woman had struck her as incredibly intelligent, but also calculating and cold. She still wished that she had some way to know what Halyna and Katarina had discussed in private, before Grel and Covle's attack got underway. "What else, then?" she asked, "What does Hector have to do to gain your trust?"

  Jay met her gaze, "It isn't about me–”

  "Ah, but it is, and you know it," Kerrel said. "The Luciel Order listens to your advice. You have contacts across the continent, maybe even all of Eoria. You're the one pulling strings, calling in favors. You are the one pushing for the restoration of the High Kingdom. The fact that we are even having this conversation tells me that while you may not have the final say, you're influencing the important decisions." She leaned forward, "tell me, do you think Hector has the potential to be the next High King?"

  To her surprise, he stood quickly and turned to face the windows. "You're the second person to ask me that. I'll give you the same answer: he's a candidate." He sighed. "To tell the truth, so are you."

  Kerrel stared at his back, "Me?" She resented the squeak in her voice, but the very idea was absurd. She had served as a mercenary, fought across the entire continent in skirmishes and battles. Kerrel didn't for a moment believe she possessed the qualifications to rule. She dreaded the possibility that she would have to take over even her mother's lands.

  "Unlike most others, you are dedicated to the cause... the only other noble with as much rank as you is Lady Katarina. You've served this cause since your exile and you've earned the respect of those you have served with. You are trusted by the Luciel Order, respected by the Order of King Gordon, and loved by the people who follow you."

  Kerrel felt a flush warm her cheeks. She really didn't know what to say. She really wasn’t used to praise. It wasn’t something that came naturally to her mother and with the time she had spent as a mercenary it wasn’t something that happened very often either.

  This is all such a mess, Kerrel frowned as she considered it. "On this side you have me and most of the Luciel Order, who value Hector's fighting abilities and potential as a ruler." She shook her head, "Damn it, Jay, I don't see a way to solve this. Either we somehow hammer some peace between Hector and Katarina, or else..."

  He nodded, "Or else one side needs to lose, quickly, before things escalate. I really hope the former rather than the latter."

  Kerrel shook her head, though. "I don't see either happening. Hector's forces are too strong and Katarina has too much popular support. Katarina has secure supply lines back to Marovingia through the Ryftguard... and even if the Duke of Marovingia won't send troops to support his distant cousin, he will send merchants with food, weapons, and equipment."

  Jay nodded, "And here in the north, Hector controls Masov's native industry and most of their trade." The northern lowlands had always been more productive than the south. They had a longer growing season and ports to ship their goods to other lands. While the southerners used their longer winter season to work the region's mines and crafting, they had less time to gather crops and typically a smaller population.

  Both Hector and Katarina had solid positions. Considering the fact that Katarina had arrived in Masov with no allies and no support only a few months previously, that actually boded poorly for Hector in the long term. Even if he won, he would do so only through terrorizing all of his opponents, which would hardly make his people love him. If I wasn't so close to Hector, she wondered, would I advocate for his defeat?

  Kerrel sighed, "I'm not sure what to do."

  "Focus on the tasks at hand," he said, "keep yourself alive and work with Hector, try to turn his ear to the possibility of peace."

  She nodded, though she wasn't sure anymore if she believed that was possible. Still, it was either that... or a civil war that would leave the Duchy of Masov in ruins. What other choice do we have, she thought.

  ***

  Lady Katarina Emberhill

  Zielona Gora, Duchy of Masov

  16th of Ravin, Cycle 1000 Post Sundering

  Katarina nodded to Gerlin as he finished his summary for her council, "This is all?"

  He nodded, "The last of the reports we've received suggest that any refugees that will make it here before the snow grows too deep have already reached safety. There are... three patrols still out, but they'll be returning over the next few days. Young Aerion will be the last one in." Gerlin said that with a gleam of mischief in his eye, though whether that was because he knew about Aerion and Katarina's feelings for one another or because he liked to remind the noblemen present in the council that their troops had already given up, she didn't know.

  Probably a little of both, she thought as she saw Earl Joris of Olsztyn's face flush with anger.

  Before the nobleman could speak, she nodded at Lord Jack, who stepped forward to the map and waved his riding crop flamboyantly, "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "as the excellent scout has stated, we have pushed most of the Usurpers mercenaries out of the highlands." Something of an exaggeration, Katarina thought, the weather did much of the work.

  "While the snow has shut down all of the passes, we still have the Ryftguard, and, thanks to Quartermaster Solis," he nodded at the former innkeeper, "We have main
tained a steady flow of supplies into the Duchy. We have also been training and equipping those able men who have stepped up to volunteer, and we should have some six thousand under arms by the spring."

  "If we can keep them," Lord James said with a sneer. "Half of them are peasants, who would run at the first sign of danger. That's why they are here, right?"

  While his father, Earl Joris of Olsztyn laughed and a couple of his cronies copied him, the rest of the council remained stonily silent. Hardly surprising since many of them were commoners by birth.

  "Tell me," Eleanor asked, "while my son is out chasing Covle Darkbit through the snow... what have you done?" Her acerbic tone suggested that Lord James had done little except work his mouth.

  "I'll not be talked to like that!" Lord James snapped, "Especially not by the likes of you!"

  "Enough," Katarina snapped, "we are not here to fight among ourselves." She glared at Lord James until he closed his mouth. She didn't bother to try to chastise Eleanor, the woman would ignore any efforts. Besides that, she was right. "We all have our contributions to this fight," Katarina said, "Nobly born or common born, anyone who fights for this cause is to be respected and valued."

  Not that she particularly valued Lord James. While he seemed a capable enough fighter, he also had every bit of his father's arrogant pompousness, without any of his subtlety. Thank my ancestors I'm betrothed to his brother and not him, the thought almost surprised her, but while Lord Garrel was something of a bore, at least he wasn't a pompous ass.

  "Now then," Katarina said, "in the next six months, we need to begin training and preparing our new people to fight. I know the weather will be the most difficult issue." The cold weather and snow had already hit hard and it wasn't even Ravin's Day, yet. Once winter began in earnest, Katarina had heard the southern highlands could get as much as three or four feet of snow in a single storm, with snowfalls that didn't melt until spring. Zeilona Gora had over thirty feet of snow the previous winter and given how early it had started in the fall, Katarina worried they might have far more than that this winter.

  Most of the villages and towns were designed to survive such heavy snowfalls, but that was when they had good supplies of food and the normal number of people. Right now, most of the villages and all of the towns were overrun by refugees from the north.

  "Here in Zielona Gora," Jarek said, "we have some areas where we can conduct training and even small formation drill indoors." Katarina gave him a nod, though she couldn't quite keep her expression friendly as she saw his betrothed seated next to him.

  Lady Eustasia was Lord Jack's sister, daughter to Baron Theodore of Castle Nine Peaks. The girl was a bit younger than Katarina and had set up a hospital within Zielona Gora's walls to deal with the injured from the battle. Katarina knew that she was quite talented and had saved the lives of many of her soldiers.

  Even so, Katarina felt more than a bit of envy for the way that Jarek looked at her. Jarek had been Katarina's only childhood friend and after being reunited, they had struck up their friendship almost like it had never left off. Katarina had started to wonder if maybe they could be more than friends... only to find that Jarek was betrothed and he had made it abundantly clear that he was in love with Eustasia.

  And I am betrothed with Lord Garrel, she thought with a glance at the young nobleman to her right, even if my heart is elsewhere.

  "Our other options are to try to either keep a training field clear of snow," the snorts of derision from most of the council answered any questions she might have on that, "or to try to equip them to fight in the snow."

  She could see Solis wince at that. While they had a good supply of coin taken from Southwatch and some taken from Hector's mercenaries, which would only go so far in funding their revolution. Feeding their soldiers through the winter would bleed their treasury and equipping them to survive in the bitter cold would probably erase their reserve. Katarina had already ordered him to order enough cold weather gear from Boir to equip their patrols, to be brought overland through the Ryftguard.

  The four companies with the patrol assignments had already lost almost as many men to the cold weather as they had to Hector's mercenaries, which was part of why she had ordered them all back. More than that, everyone in the south could feel that more weather would soon come. She just hoped that all of the patrols, especially Aerion’s Ghost Company, made it back before the weather broke again.

  "Now," Katarina said, turning her gaze to the Earl of Olsztyn, "we need to discuss financial support for the spring campaign..."

  ***

  Quinn Makelsen

  Zielona Gora, Duchy of Masov

  18th of Ravin, Cycle 1000 Post sundering

  Quinn activated the rune and ducked down behind the rampart. He looked up at Nakkiki, who stared down at him with an expression of confusion. "Get down," Quinn said.

  Nakkiki looked at him blankly and then up at the stone bowl, painstakingly inscribed with runes that had taken Quinn the most of a month.

  Nakkiki rumbled a question and Quinn forced himself to listen. Even after almost half a cycle with the big man, Quinn didn't consider himself anything close to fluent in his language.

  "No," Quinn said, "I know I said I was sure it would work, but if I am wrong..."

  Nakkiki gave him a stern look and Quinn sighed, "Look, big guy, I'm not exactly breaking my agreement with Cederic. He did tell me how to do all of this... I just put it together, you know?"

  Nakkiki didn't respond, but Quinn could sense the big man's disapproval.

  "Ancestors," Quinn muttered, "between you and Aerion, I feel like I have a pair of mother hens. It's not as if what I'm doing is really that dangerous."

  As if to belie his statement, the bowl began to rattle and shake. Quinn peered up over the top of the rampart. He could see the runes on its surface begin to glow with heat. "That shouldn't be happening!" he protested.

  Nakkiki grumbled something and pushed Quinn down just as there was a loud detonation. Quinn looked up just as Nakkiki brushed bits of rock dust out of his hair. He growled in his native language and Quinn sat up to look. "I don't know what happened. It should have just been a simple set of runes to draw power from the wind..."

  He stood up and looked at the shattered bits of the stone bowl. A month of work, gone in an instant. Where had he gone wrong?

  Quinn heard a trample of boots and a moment later a pair of guards in Lady Katarina's colors hurried up. "What was that noise?" One of them said, his eyes wide.

  "Uh," Quinn looked around. He noticed ominous clouds off to the northwest, "Thunder?"

  "Sounded pretty close," the guard said. He looked at Nakkiki who gave him a big smile, "Uh, should you two be up here?"

  Quinn nodded his head, "Oh, yes, Nakkiki and I are watching for the patrol's return. Lady Katarina wanted to be informed when they return."

  "You're from her personal guard, right?" the first guard asked.

  Quinn nodded, "Yes, I've been with Lady Katarina since the Tucola Forest."

  The pair of guards seemed to relax a bit. The older one, nodded out at the dark storm clouds. "Bad sign, that," he said. "Black clouds like that coming in from the northwest, generally means a storm front that's been building up in the Ryft Peaks for days. Probably get three feet or more of snow. If there's lightning, the wind will be enough to pull the roof off of poorly built buildings."

  Quinn held his tongue about the lightning.

  The younger guard looked even more wide-eyed, "How long, do you think, before it hits?"

  The older guard snorted, "The way those clouds are piling up, before sunset."

  Quinn couldn't help a frown at that. While two of the three patrols should return before that, Aerion's Ghost Company wasn't due back for another day, at least. They had tents, but in this kind of howling blizzard that the older man had described, that might not be enough.

  "Well," the older guard said with a nod, "we'd best be back on our patrol." He turned away and a moment later, Quinn and N
akkiki were alone again.

  "You might want a coat or something," Quinn said to the big man. "It sounds like it'll be cold." As it was, he didn't know how the big man could stand to walk around in what amounted to a skirt. While his big, bare torso had plenty of fat rolls, the cold wind coming down out of the mountains still chilled Quinn despite his coat.

  Nakkiki rumbled something back, but Quinn wasn't quite certain what he meant. Something about fire and... blood? Really, there was a lot about Nakkiki that Quinn didn't understand. Like how he seemed to effortlessly control fire. Cederic had mentioned that he might be "spirit-touched" whatever that meant.

  Something else to research when I get time, Quinn thought. The Zeilona Gora's castle had an extensive library and Quinn had taken advantage of his free time to read as much as he could. As a printer's apprentice back in Longhaven, he had discovered a love of reading. He thought that if he spent the entire winter here, he still might not do much more than touch on many of the subjects that interested him. I'll die of old age before I finish every book here, he thought, unless I was Starborn like Aerion and Lady Katarina. Not for the first time, he felt a bit of envy for them. To have centuries to learn, that would be incredible. As it was, he didn't know how Cederic knew so much. The wizard had admitted that he wasn't much older than Lady Katarina, yet he had already mastered so much that Quinn wanted to know.

  I will learn everything he can teach me, Quinn thought with a glance at the shattered bits of stone bowl, though I'll have to be a bit more cautious in the future.

  ***

  Jakub

  Near Tucola Lake, Duchy of Masov

  18th of Ravin, Cycle 1000 Post sundering

  Jakub grimaced at the darkening skies and looked back at the line of refugees he led. They should be close to Zielona Gora, yet he wasn't certain they should continue. All the same, he knew if they did stop then some the women and children would not survive the night.