Night of Flame (Steel and Fire Book 5)

by Jordan Rivet

  “One more question, Dara,” Siv said. “My mother?”

  Dara shook her head. The last anyone heard, Tirra Amintelle had been imprisoned in the Stronghold, which was now a smoldering ruin. “Ananova didn’t say.”

  Siv took a deep, steadying breath.

  “I think we should revisit what we talked about before,” Dara began. “I need to go and try to stop—”

  “I agree,” Siv said. “It’s time.”

  Dara winced at his abrupt tone. Her father had been a thorn between them for a long time. And now Rafe Ruminor had most likely killed Siv’s mother. Dara met his eyes, and to his credit, Siv didn’t look at her with the accusation she had expected. Where she feared she’d find reproach, Siv’s gaze held only sadness.

  Brambles rustled nearby, and Detsin burst into the clearing, a Cindral escort close behind him. The soldier leapt off his horse before it had come to a full stop.

  “King Siv, a huge army approaches from the south!”

  “Khrillin?”

  “Beg pardon, sir,” Detsin said. “I mean from south of Khrillin’s position.”

  “What kind of army?” Siv’s bleak tone said he’d expect nothing less than rabid cullmorans on a day like today.

  “They’re Soolens.”

  Siv blinked at him.

  “I thought the rest of Soole had washed their hands of the Brachs,” Dara said, “after all the trouble they’ve caused.”

  “I thought so too,” Siv said. “I reckon they want the Pendarkans to leave their territory.”

  “There’s more, King Siv,” Detsin said. “I got a look at the vanguard and saw some familiar folks riding with the army. Not sure what kind of sense it makes, but it sure looked like Lady Vine and Lord Vex.”

  19.

  Negotiations

  SIV didn’t know why he was even surprised. Leave it to Vine Silltine to disappear for a week or two and return at the head of an army. As they waited for the emissaries to arrive at the edge of the woods, he couldn’t help thinking that if he ever got his throne back, he was going to give that woman whatever position she wanted in his government. He had half a mind to appoint her king.

  He’d be fine with giving up the job right about now. He couldn’t even retreat to mourn his mother in peace. Instead, he had to sort through this latest puzzle, all the while feeling that no matter what he did, the result would be death. It was always the people who didn’t deserve it who paid the worst price. He hardly dared hope that Vine and Vex’s reappearance would turn that tide.

  Gidon, Belna, and Berg had accompanied him to negotiate on behalf of the Cindral Folk. Gidon wore his fur mantle despite the heat, looking like a king himself as he stood guard before the woods, bent on protecting them from further betrayals. Captain Lian represented the Pendarkans among them. Siv had asked him to do whatever he believed his beloved king would have wanted for Pendark. Every part of the continent deserved the same chance at a peaceful resolution.

  Siv would represent both Vertigon and Trure—with input from Dara regarding Vertigon, of course—and Latch would speak for the Brachs. He had remained stoic at the news that his father was gone forever. The Brach men had had a turbulent relationship, but Siv knew Latch was mourning in his own way. Right now, the two of them needed to focus on defeating their fathers’ murderer—and making peace in the lands they left behind.

  Siv straightened his back as ten riders approached the woods from the Granite River valley. Six guards in Soolen uniforms surrounded four members of the nobility on fine steeds. Vine and Vex looked the same as the last time he had seen them. Cleaner, maybe. Brend Rollendar, one of Vex’s older brothers, rode beside him in a matching red coat. Like Vex, the other two Rollendar lords had left Vertigon before the coup to begin securing alliances for their brother Von. Apparently, the dark-eyed, broad-shouldered Brend had found his way to Soole. Siv guessed that was how Vine and Vex got their introduction to the fourth member of the envoy, the young man riding on Vine’s other side.

  The Soolen Crown Prince was a lithe fellow, with hooded eyes and deep-brown skin. He wore fine clothes and an imperious scowl. The last time Siv had seen the boy was when he visited Vertigon with his mother almost seven years ago. Siv had spent their visit playing pranks on the dignitaries—with the help of Bolden Rollendar, as it happened. The Crown Prince was now past his sixteenth year. Siv hoped he’d grown less insufferable with age.

  The riders halted in a billow of dust, horses snorting and stamping. The four nobles dismounted, while the guards kept watch on the shadowy forest, weapons prominently displayed.

  “Greetings,” Siv called, doing his best impression of his father’s most diplomatic and hospitable voice. “Thank you for agreeing to this meeting. I hope we can help each other achieve a quick resolution to the current crisis.”

  “Well met, Your Majesty,” Vine said. “May I introduce His Excellency Chadrech Welshert Chovren, the Crown Prince of Soole. And this is King Sivarrion Amintelle, the Fourth Good King of Vertigon.”

  “He’s the fourth,” Prince Chadrech said. “I don’t know if he’s that good.”

  “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Your Excellency,” Siv said, nearly biting his tongue in half. “Truly.”

  “You have a lot of nerve bringing trouble to my borders,” Prince Chadrech said.

  “We merely followed it here, I assure you,” Siv said.

  Prince Chadrech snorted. “How kingly of you.”

  “My lords,” Vine said quickly, “we are here because Queen Rochelle of Soole is eager to remove the Pendarkan force under King Khrillin’s command from her territory. We persuaded her that we share a mutual desire for the safe reclamation of Fort Brach.” She glanced at the Crown Prince. “She has sent her son to discuss a possible alliance against Khrillin.”

  “I thought the queen had washed her hands of Fort Brach,” Latch said. Siv was gratified to see Latch looking at his prince with the same distaste Siv felt toward the snotty little fellow. But neither of them could afford to make a new enemy right now.

  He put on a winning smile. “I’m sure the Brach lands remain a valuable—”

  “Your father made a mess of things,” Prince Chadrech interrupted, sneering at Latch. “But she can’t let these Pendarkans push any further into Soole. She’ll deal with it since your father can’t keep his own house in order.”

  “My father is dead,” Latch snapped.

  Prince Chadrech blinked.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that, my lord,” Vine said softly. “When Queen Rochelle and I spoke of an alliance, she expressed an interest in allowing Commander Brach to return without repercussions providing we eliminate the Pendarkan threat.”

  “I am the head of House Brach now,” Latch said. “She can deal directly with me.”

  “Wonderful,” Prince Chadrech said. “The runaway son of the renegade. I’m sure my mother will love that.”

  “Your Excellency,” Vine said before Latch could respond, “shall we tell King Sivarrion all about the force we’ve brought? I’m sure you are very proud of them.”

  “Of course I am,” Chadrech said. “We have five hundred of the best fighters in the Soolen Peninsula. We’ll drive this Pendarkan snake from our borders.”

  “How many Waterworkers did you bring?” Dara asked.

  “Excuse me? Who is this . . . woman?” The Crown Prince looked Dara up and down, eyeing her trousers and the sword at her hip. His haughty voice set Siv’s teeth on edge. He couldn’t believe Sora had been willing to marry this fellow to broker an alliance with Soole once.

  “This is the magic wielder I told you about,” Vine said patiently. “She is very powerful.” She cleared her throat with a delicate cough. “We haven’t brought any Waterworkers. The queen insisted quite adamantly that there are no Waterworkers in Soole.”

  “That secret is out,” Latch said. “She can stop pretending.”

  Vine’s smile became slightly strained at Latch’s undiplomatic tone. “Even so, I was unable to convi
nce Her Excellency of the need for additional wielders. I hope Dara can deal with Khrillin.”

  Dara grimaced. “I’m making progress.”

  Siv knew Dara wanted to leave as soon as possible now that she had learned where to find her father. That was what Siv wanted too. A long and bloody battle between Khrillin and Prince Chadrech’s forces wouldn’t help anyone. He could think of much better uses for five hundred soldiers. They needed to approach this problem another way.

  “Vertigon is eager to offer our friendship to the Soolen royal family,” he said. “We are also friends with House Brach. In fact, we’re going to be linked through marriage.” He glanced at Latch, who gave a slight nod. They were both going to need that alliance, even though the commander was dead. “It would please us to see reconciliation between your two great families.” Siv took a deep breath and played his mijen tile. “I’m happy to hear you’ve brought five hundred men to oust Khrillin, but may I suggest that you do not fight him?”

  “What?”

  More than a few people looked at him in surprise.

  “There has been enough death and destruction already,” Siv said. “I think it’s best if we convince Khrillin to leave without fighting.”

  Captain Lian barked a laugh, then he looked closer at Siv. “Wait, you’re serious, Sire.”

  Siv grinned. “When am I not? I believe we can convince Khrillin to depart Fort Brach without spilling a drop of blood—Soolen or Pendarkan.”

  Lian gaped at him. “What makes you think you can convince Khrillin to . . . to . . . But it’s Khrillin!”

  “And we have Berg Doban,” Siv said. The old sword master gave a start. “He and my father were old friends of Khrillin’s. I think there’s still a spark of decency in that slimy old salt adder. Berg and I are going to find it.”

  Every eye turned to Berg.

  “Now we are knowing you are crazy,” he muttered.

  “That, or I’m a brilliant strategist whose genius you all haven’t recognized yet.”

  “You really expect talking to him to work?” Prince Chadrech demanded.

  “It must,” Siv said. “There is a more dangerous threat than Khrillin terrorizing the continent. We have just received word that Ruminor the Lantern Maker is marching on Kurn Pass.” Dara stirred beside him, but she didn’t say anything. “His army of Fireworkers won a great victory over Commander Brach’s forces at the Far Plains Stronghold. He has already razed Rallion City and a dozen smaller Truren towns. He is turning his attention south next. I believe I can persuade Khrillin to vacate Fort Brach and march to defend the Pass against the Lantern Maker. He will be the savior of Pendark, which should solidify his power there.”

  “So he’d just leave?” Prince Chadrech tightened his hands on his sword belt, and Siv was surprised to see his hands were shaking. Perhaps he wasn’t quite as confident as he pretended. Siv might sway him yet.

  “I know the odds are long,” Siv said, “but I also know the man himself. I think Berg and I can convince him. I’m not sure he ever planned to hold Fort Brach indefinitely. Even if he did, that victory would feel hollow if he lost his own homeland to the Lantern Maker in the process.”

  Prince Chadrech frowned. “You seem to know a lot about what the Lantern Maker is doing.”

  “He ought to.” Vex Rollendar’s brother Brend spoke for the first time, leaning close to the Crown Prince. “That’s Ruminor’s daughter at his side, Your Excellency.”

  “What?”

  “This is Dara Ruminor,” Brend Rollendar said, watching Dara with steely eyes. “Her father is the Lantern Maker who killed my brother and nephew.”

  “Lord Brend,” Siv said, taking a deliberate step that put him between Dara and the Rollendar lord. “It has been a while. Last time we saw each other, you were plotting a coup against me.”

  “My brother was,” Brend said. “And Ruminor murdered Von for his troubles. Now Vex believes you are the key to our vengeance, but I fail to see how that’s possible when you’ve taken his daughter to your bed.”

  “Come now, Brend,” Vex began. “Show some respect. King Siv has promised that the Lantern Maker—”

  “Your bed?” Chadrech interrupted, looking at Dara with renewed interest. From the look on her face, Siv was surprised she wasn’t spitting ice daggers at him. “I thought you wanted to stop Ruminor.”

  “Believe it or not,” Siv said. “People can disagree with their fathers.” He turned to Brend. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but your nephew Bolden joined the Ruminors in turning on his father. He expected to take the crown directly from my head—preferably after he removed it from my body. He is as much to blame for your brother’s death as anyone—and certainly more than Dara.”

  Brend, at least, was surprised by the revelation. Vex looked as though he already knew about Bolden and Von, but his jaw tightened, and his hand twitched toward his sword. Siv figured Bolden was lucky to be dead rather than having to face his uncles after getting their brother killed.

  He cleared his throat. “Can we return to the important point, my lords and ladies?”

  “Which is?”

  “Delaying your attack against Khrillin.” Siv glanced at Berg, hoping this gamble would pay off. “I’m going to give him a very compelling reason to rush back to Pendark. Will you let his soldiers leave your land unharmed if they give up the fort peacefully?”

  “After everything they’ve done?” Prince Chadrech said.

  “Yes, after everything they’ve done,” Siv said.

  “You must be mad.”

  “We will never achieve peace if we seek vengeance for every ill deed.” The Rollendars shifted, near twins in their red Rollendar coats, and Siv felt Vex’s eyes burning him like awls. “I keep Dara by my side despite what her family has done to mine.”

  “You think that makes you virtuous enough to tell the rest of us what to do?” Chadrech scoffed.

  “I’m not telling you what to do,” Siv said. “I am asking the other powerful men and women of the continent to join me in letting go of past wrongs.” Now he looked at Captain Lian, who would not be able to seek revenge against Khrillin for killing his dear king if everything went according to plan. “Otherwise, this war will never end.”

  “You are the least powerful person here,” Chadrech said bluntly. “You couldn’t even hold onto your kingdom for a year.” He looked Dara up and down again. “And you put too much trust in your enemies and their offspring.”

  Siv knew Chadrech was trying to get a rise out of him—and it was working, damn it. He held Chadrech’s gaze, fighting to maintain his composure in the face of this rude conduct. He had to make the prince see the wisdom of avoiding a battle. While they fought amongst themselves, the Lantern Maker could sneak up and destroy them all.

  Vine took a step forward, smiling encouragingly. “I think we should heed King Siv’s suggestion, Your Excellency. You don’t want to lead your men into battle needlessly—although I’m sure you’d be very brave.”

  Chadrech glanced at Vine, who tossed her lustrous dark hair over her shoulder for good measure. The Crown Prince was clearly enamored of her. Hopefully, he’d listen to her advice. Siv’s heart was racing like a Truren stallion. Please let this work.

  At last, the prince straightened his narrow shoulders and addressed Siv. “I took this meeting as a courtesy to the Lords Rollendar and Lady Vine, who have been good company at court.” Siv’s hopes rose wildly, until Chadrech continued, “But I’m not going to let Khrillin walk away after he invaded my territory. Do what you like, but we attack the fort at dawn.”

  He mounted his horse and rode off without so much as a goodbye, taking his guards and Siv’s plans for peace with him. The coppery taste of defeat filled Siv’s mouth. Why had he been so convinced that would work? He was really starting to doubt his own diplomacy skills.

  “Farewell, Your Excellency,” he said when Chadrech was out of earshot. “You ugly grandmother of a blasted cullmoran.”

  “That didn’t go as well
as I’d hoped,” Dara said.

  “Maybe he’ll take a Watermight arrow to the knee tomorrow,” Latch muttered, shifting his weight on his similarly injured leg.

  “What are you thinking we will do now?” Berg said, moving closer to them while Belna and Gidon conferred in the Cindral tongue.

  “I’d like to know that as well,” Vine said. She had stayed behind when Prince Chadrech and his guards returned to their army. She touched Vex’s cheek and whispered something in his ear, and he mounted his horse and rode off to rejoin his brother and the prince. She looked at the others expectantly, as if she hadn’t disappeared on them in the middle of the night. Dara was staring at her, mouth slightly agape.

  “Well, I must fight with my prince tomorrow,” Latch said after a minute. “A peaceful withdrawal would have been preferable, but I have a duty to my people.” Then he paused. “Even though he is the sniveling son of a septic bullshell.”

  “Glad I’m not the only one who thinks so,” Siv said. “But you’re right. I promised to help you retake your home. I intend to see it through, even if it means riding into battle.” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling frustrated. “I thought that would work.”

  “It was a fair effort, Your Majesty,” Vine said. “After my conversations with Queen Rochelle, I thought you’d have a chance.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us you were going to see her?” Dara demanded. The question burst out of her as if it had been struggling to escape for a while.

  “I suspected there was a spy in our midst,” Vine said. “Gull’s report didn’t quite match my Air observations, but I couldn’t be certain it was her. I also didn’t know if we would succeed in bringing help. The Queen of Soole is most displeased with the Brachs.”

  Latch snorted. “I’d have liked to hear what you said to her. Her temper is legendary.”

  “It took my very best negotiating skills to convince her to send help.” Vine frowned. “It’s a shame we couldn’t find a way to end the conflict without bloodshed, though.”