“I didn’t want to bring this up in front of the others yet, but this isn’t over. I’d be the last one to underestimate Gerusa’s determination. She never did know how to admit when she was beaten.”
“You think Gerusa will try another attack?” Vatar’s mind whirled. He had to get out to Zeda to warn the Dardani. But if he was needed here, too . . .
Father waved his hand in negation. “I don’t think she could muster another attack like this one. Not anytime soon. But I’m sure she’ll try something. Even if it’s just cracking down even harder on trade.” Father sat back with a speculative look on his face. “Actually . . . this is probably about the weakest Gerusa has ever been since she took power in Kausalya. The Kausalyans have suffered more at her hands than we have. Even the other Fasallon in Kausalya must be feeling the brunt of that. It might be the perfect time to take the fight to her.”
Vatar drew in a deep breath. He couldn’t say Father was wrong about that, but . . . “Father, I have to go warn the Dardani. As soon as possible.”
Father stopped staring at the far wall and focused on Vatar. “Of course you do. Vatar, you’ve done your part here. I need to think about the proper way to approach this. But I don’t think a military assault is the answer. This calls for a different kind of warfare. The kind Gerusa and I have been dueling each other with since before you were born. Politics. Leave this part to me. Go do what you have to for your other family.” His gaze returned to the far wall. “Hmm. Who do I still know with any kind of power in Kausalya?”
Chapter 18: News from the North
Even in the dusk, Selene held her breath as she slithered down the rope securing the ship to the dock. She’d had to return to snake form for this. It was the only way she could think of to get ashore quickly—and she’d become increasingly convinced that her news was urgent. She swallowed, trying to ignore the very real possibility of falling off even this thick rope. This close to shore, she was reasonably confident she could get to firm ground without drowning.
She’d have preferred to walk down the gangplank, of course, but that had turned out to be more difficult than she’d expected. After a brief observation from the shelter of the tarp-covered boat, Selene had chosen to impersonate one of the Themyri during the voyage, disgusting as that was. But they were smaller than the Fasallon or the red-headed strangers—or even the Kausalyans—close enough to her own body size to make the counterfeit believable. With the added benefit that no one seemed to pay them much attention—other than to order them out of the way, at least—and the Themyri were not expected to know anything about how the ship worked. Unfortunately, the Themyri apparently also weren’t allowed into the city.
The disguise had worked well enough to get her here without being discovered, but she’d been too afraid to attempt Far Speech with her mother. Not with so many others around who might be able to detect it. Not just the other Fasallon. She might have trusted them. But those red-headed strangers plainly also had Talents. As angry as the Kausalyan sailors clearly were with the Fasallon, she didn’t want to be discovered until she was safely in the Kausalyan Fasallon Palace with her mother.
The rope tying the ship to the pier was mercifully short. Selene pulled herself onto the wooden dock and crawled into the shadows cast by some crates before releasing her concentration and returning to her own form. Now, all she had to do was get to the Palace. She’d never been to Kausalya, but she could already tell this was not a part of the town she would normally ever go to—certainly not without a guard. Well, she’d just have to manage.
~
Selene paced restlessly in the hallway of the Kausalyan Palace of the Fasallon. She’d made it this far only to be stopped by some officious bureaucrat who insisted on checking with Mother before allowing the admittedly ragged Selene into her presence. And the bureaucrat didn’t appear to be in any hurry about it. Well, there was something she could do about that, at least. There wasn’t any reason not to use Far Speech any more. “Mother?”
Mother’s answer came almost immediately. “Selene? Where are you? Why haven’t you spoken to me before now? Or answered me?”
Selene almost crumpled to the floor with the relief of finally reaching her mother. “After . . . after our attempt to sabotage the Festival last year went wrong, they locked me up in a cell.”
“A cell?” Mother sounded indignant.
Selene nodded. “Yes. And there was always someone outside it that could detect Far Speech, to make sure I didn’t contact you.”
“How dare they? Where are you now?”
“I’m downstairs. I managed to escape to the Kausalyan fleet. Then I came straight here. There’s something I need to tell you urgently. But this . . . this bureaucrat won’t let me up to see you.”
“I’ll take care of that right now,” Mother growled. “Hmm. I’m due to meet with the people I put in charge of that fleet in a few moments.”
Selene wrung her hands. “I need to talk to you first, Mother. Please. It really is important.”
“My personal guard will be right down to escort you up to me.”
Moments later, one of the Palace Guards appeared to lead Selene into her mother’s presence—at last.
Mother narrowed her eyes as she took in Selene’s filthy and ragged clothes. Selene herself wasn’t significantly cleaner—or less ragged. “So, what was so urgent? I’m expecting the leaders . . . the men who were supposed to lead the conquest of Caere for me any moment.”
Selene’s brows furrowed. “The Fasallon who were with the fleet? Or the other ones? The ones with red hair?”
“The exiled Valson? Some of each, but principally the Exiles who assured me their magic would make the conquest easy. They’ll be here soon.”
Selene swallowed. “You should send to make sure that no one else gets off those ships while you talk to these leaders.”
“Why?”
“The reason the fleet turned around was . . .” Selene paused. She still could barely credit it herself. “Because Veleus and Vatar arranged for the captured Kausalyans to be told about the Lie and then let them escape. They must have guessed the effect it would have.”
“What?” Mother’s voice was incredulous.
“It’s true. I heard them. I was in the cell across the hall and I used just a touch of Far Sight to find out what they were doing. And that’s not all. It was Caereans, led by Veleus and Vatar, who told the Kausalyans. They knew all about the Lie. What’s more, I disguised myself and listened to the Kausalyans as we sailed back here. Apparently it’s known all the way to Chrysaor and Tesserae, too. And if word hasn’t reached Tysoe, it won’t be much longer. If those men get off their ships, they’ll spread the news here, too. And then—”
Mother sputtered in her rage for several moments before she could produce coherent words. “I always knew Veleus was too soft-hearted toward the Caereans—and that bastard of his, Vatar. I never thought he was soft-headed enough to do something like this.”
Mother quickly sent one of her guards to embargo the returning ships. “Let no one ashore except those who are coming to meet with me. And send a guard along with them.” As the man left, she looked back at Selene. “I think I’ll postpone that meeting for a little while. Why don’t you use the time to get cleaned up and changed into something more fitting for my daughter? We can talk more while you change.”
Mother led Selene into the bedroom and found a spare gown for her. Then she pointed the way to the small bathing chamber. A pitcher of water was already set by the basin. A clean cloth lay nearby. While she sponged off what felt like weeks of dirt, Selene said. “I don’t understand why any Fasallon would reveal the Lie.”
“Well, obviously, they hoped for exactly the reaction they got. The Kausalyan sailors unilaterally pulled our fleet away from Caere,” Mother said.
“But . . . but it was Caereans who told them. And from the way they talked, it wasn’t something they’d just learned about. And if they were right, the word is already spreading up the
coast.”
“Hmm,” Gerusa said. “Useless as he is, it doesn’t sound like Veleus. More like something Vatar might have done. He’s always been a danger to the Fasallon, though no one else chose to see it the way I did. I should have just had him killed when I had the chance. Him or your father’s other bastard, Cestus. Either of them might have decided that there was some advantage in tearing down the High Council. Lords of Creation know Cestus has already tried that. And then, of course, Veleus would try to cover for either of them.”
“If the other cities already know, how do we keep the Kausalyans—all the Kausalyans—from finding out?” Selene asked.
After a pause, Mother said. “We start by making sure those sailors can’t tell anyone else for a while. Then . . . then we’ll have to plan something that will convince the citizens that the sailors have been misled. Or that they’re lying to cover up their own cowardice in abandoning the attack. That might be the best angle. Or both. Something they’ll want to believe instead. You could have warned me about this earlier, you know.”
“I didn’t dare. If there had been only the Fasallon aboard that ship who could sense magic, I would have. But it was clear the other ones—the ones with red hair—also had Talent enough to detect Far Speech. And I didn’t want to reveal myself to them without knowing who they were and why they were there.”
“Ah. Well, they’re allies of mine. Though I must say, their first plan didn’t work out as well as they assured me it would.”
~
By the time the men Mother was expecting were led into her office, Mother was seated behind her desk and Selene—cleaned up and appropriately dressed, was in a chair to one side.
One of the red-headed men strode up to the desk belligerently. “What’s the meaning of keeping us waiting like . . . like naughty children?”
The other red head put a hand on his arm. “Calm down, Wartan. I’m sure no insult was intended.”
“Of course not,” Mother said sweetly. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon. I had understood that you would be occupied with the conquest of Caere. What happened, Nertan?”
“You told us the harbor was undefended. That we could sail right in and take the city by surprise. Instead, they were expecting us,” the second red head—the one Mother had called Nertan—answered. “They’d fortified the harbor with catapults on the headlands and something across the entrance that sank two of the ships. Then, before we could formulate a new plan, those Kausalyan sailors turned tail and ran, babbling something about a lie. Some of them wanted to throw us and your Fasallon over the side. What is this lie that got them so worked up, anyway?”
Mother shrugged. “Six hundred years ago, our ancestors . . . didn’t correct the local’s misapprehension that they were the Caerean’s Sea Gods. It’s worked well ever since to bolster our control over them—until now.”
“How could they have known what you were planning?” Selene asked, returning to the current problem.
Nertan looked at her but didn’t answer.
Mother gestured toward Selene. “My daughter Selene has just joined me here. To assist me.”
“Ah,” Nertan said with a little bow. “Well, the only answer to your question is that someone must have told them we were coming.” He turned back to Mother. “One of your Fasallon must have warned them. Either that, or the Kausalyans somehow managed to get word to their counterparts in the city.”
“How do you know it wasn’t one of you that gave the warning?” Mother asked.
“None of us would have accepted exile from our people and endured what we have for the last four years if they didn’t believe in our cause,” the other redhead, Wartan said pompously.
“Nor would any of our people have known anyone to contact.” Nertan waved his hand. “In any case, recriminations won’t get us any farther. What we need is a new plan.”
Mother sat back, tenting her hands. “What do you propose?”
“It’s useless to try to take the city now, while they’re on their guard. We go on to a different objective, for now. Since your sailors have proved so skittish, we march—or ride—overland.”
Mother’s eyes narrowed. “Take the city from the land? The wall may make that more difficult than you think.”
Nertan shook his head. “No . . . or not yet. Like I said, they’ll still be on alert, watching for another attack. Let them lose sleep over it. We’ll march on across the plains to subjugate these Dardani you warned us of. Then, with them added to our army, we’ll go on to the Valley.”
“You’re abandoning our alliance?” Mother asked. The tone of her voice made Selene wince. Those who didn’t know her well didn’t realize how much anger that quiet manner implied.
Nertan waved his hand in a negating gesture. “By no means. The idea of a Valson/Fasallon coalition spanning everything from the Valley to the sea is quite . . . entrancing. But, if we return with our army doubled or more by the addition of the Dardani and more Valson converted to our cause—including a few who know something more about boats—we’ll be in a much better position to take Caere. And all the other cities you spoke of thereafter. Who knows? We might even get lucky and find Vatar among his people. Didn’t you say he goes out to join them every summer?”
“Vatar.” Mother drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Selene knew how much her mother wanted revenge on Veleus’s bastard. “Perhaps you’re right.”
“What time of year did you say he goes out onto the plains?” Wartan asked. “And how long does he stay?”
“Hmm.” Mother put her hand to her chin. “He was usually gone at about the time of the Festival—around midsummer. The one time I was able to find out when he was leaving Caere it was about a month earlier than that. So he must have stayed out there at least that long. Longer, I should think.”
Nertan nodded. “That gives us a couple of months to prepare, then.”
“What makes you so sure you can do better conquering the Dardani than you did in Caere?” Selene asked.
Nertan smirked. “We had no trouble convincing the Themyri to accept us as their natural leaders. I don’t see why the Dardani should be any different. It is the natural right of those of us blessed with Powers to lead the lesser races. They all know it, instinctively. Just as your Kausalyans naturally accepted you as their Sea Gods.”
Chapter 19: New Plan
Nertan strode into the large tent reserved for meetings of his command staff. This war council had been hastily called, but he was glad to see everyone in his place, even Wartan. Nertan had only just managed to keep Wartan from babbling as they left the meeting with Gerusa by setting a pace that discouraged conversation. Fortunately, even Wartan had better sense than to try to talk while they were being rowed across the river channels to their camp on the southern shore of the river. While Nertan didn’t think much of his ally’s organizational skills, he didn’t for a moment underestimate Gerusa’s ability to collect information. It wouldn’t do to tip their hand too soon.
“Do you really mean to waste time and resources coming all the way back to capture that benighted city for Gerusa?” Wartan demanded before Nertan could even take his seat.
Nertan sighed. “Yes. And no. The idea of conquering Caere and the other coastal cities, bringing all of the non-magical peoples under our rule, is very intriguing. It’s a considerable potential source of wealth—and power. Whether Gerusa will have any part in that . . . depends greatly on what happens between now and then. But it serves our present purpose for her to believe that she will rule the coast eventually. We still need cooperation and support from her city in order to further our own goals.”
“What are those, now that our attempt to catch Vatar at Caere has failed?” Loran asked.
Nertan nodded to his son. It was the right question, if a little narrowly phrased. He glanced at Wartan, whose primary goal was still to avenge himself on the man who’d killed his only son. Was Wartan’s narrow-mindedness rubbing off on Loran? Or was this just Loran’s—understan
dable—desire to set right the death of his oldest friend? That was a question for later, surely. “Caere was always a distraction from the point of view of our larger goals. Worthwhile, only because it promised to earn us the kind of material support we most need. And for the possibility of finding Vatar there. But it’s not the only—or even the best—place to catch Vatar.”
He unrolled the—admittedly inadequate—map he’d taken from the Kausalyan archives. “According to Gerusa, Vatar spends his summers out in the middle of the plains somewhere almost due east of Caere.” That portion of the map was unhelpfully blank, except for the single word “Dardani” scrawled across the open space. The coastline was mapped in detail, with the cities clearly marked. Toward the bottom of the map, the rivers and lake were also clearly and accurately marked. Along with that irritating town—Tysoe, the map named it—that had held them up for so long. Though, even there, the outposts between the rivers which had been the real thorns in his side weren’t marked. Everything to the east of the coast and north of the lake was blank all the way north to the rivers on which the northern cities were situated. “He apparently visits another primitive group, not too different from our Themyri . . . followers. And he’s always there at midsummer, which will be our target time frame.” His hand traced east across the empty plains from Caere and on to where he knew the Great Forest stood, though it wasn’t marked on this map, either. “Moreover, based on where Loran and his friends encountered Vatar originally, that should put us nearly in line with the Pass back into the Valley—which is and always has been our ultimate goal. We’ll turn these Dardani into followers, just as we did the Themyri, deal with Vatar, and double our present army with which to back our return to the Valley—and ultimate power there. Then, we can choose to come back to conquer those lucrative coastal cities at our leisure.”
“How are we supposed to find Vatar and these Dardani in all that open space?” Wartan demanded.
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