The Severed Realm

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The Severed Realm Page 3

by Michael G. Manning


  Unable to contain her feelings, tears began to spill down Irene’s cheeks. “Don’t you care about us anymore? We need you! It isn’t alright. Dad nearly killed himself the other day doing something stupid. He needs you. Why won’t you come back?”

  Leaning forward, Rose took her hand and patted her cheek. “You know I care about your family. Believe it or not, I’m working very hard right now to help your father. He has a lot of enemies in the capital, and he needs me to figure out what they’re plotting.” Then she paused before continuing, “And besides that, I don’t think he wants me there right now. He’s hurting, and my presence may only make it worse for him.”

  “That’s not true,” protested Irene.

  “Why don’t you come stay here with Carissa for a few days?” suggested Rose. “She would love to see you.”

  “No,” growled Irene. “You have to come home. She said so. Please!”

  Rose frowned. “Who said so?”

  Irene bit her lip, unsure how to answer.

  “Who said so, Irene?” asked Rose again.

  “Mom!” she blurted out.

  Overcome for a moment, Rose dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her gown. “Oh, Rennie, I know this is hard, but you have to be reasonable.”

  “She did say it. I swear!” insisted Irene. “I saw her. She told me to tell you she would haunt you if you didn’t come slap some sense into my dad.”

  Rose’s eyes were glistening, but she smiled at Irene’s remark. “That sounds like her. Was this a dream you had?”

  “Yes, but it was real! It was really her. She said some dreams are more important than real life,” explained Irene.

  Standing up, Rose drew Irene into her arms and hugged her tightly. “You miss her a lot, don’t you?”

  Irene continued to argue, but Rose was unyielding. After a few minutes, Benchley appeared to warn them that the Queen was on her way, and Rose left. She made one concession as she stepped away: “I’ll visit soon, Rennie. Don’t worry.”

  ***

  When Rose returned to the council chamber, she scanned the room with a seemingly casual glance. Gregory, Duke of Cantley, sat chatting amiably with Count Malvern, while Tyrion appeared to be entertaining Earl Balistair and Count Airedale with a humorous anecdote. Leomund, the Prince-Consort, sat quiet, not involved in any of the other conversations. Not surprising, thought Rose, since he isn’t well liked.

  She crossed the room, and as she walked, she drank in her environment, absorbing the details. It was the habit of a lifetime, one that she had learned at the feet of her father, though she had quickly exceeded him in ability. Almost subliminally, she noted the clothing worn by the other nobles, their expressions as they talked with one another, and which faces they looked at when they weren’t talking.

  All these things gave away valuable information, some of which was intended to be seen, and some which was meant to be private. Knowing the difference was crucial. Those skilled at the game could pretend to give away things unintentionally as a means of misdirection.

  The men in this room were the most powerful nobles in Lothion, and they were well trained in the arts of politics and diplomacy, but none compared to Rose Thornbear when it came to reading a room.

  A privacy ward protected them from eavesdroppers, but it couldn’t shield them from Rose’s discerning gaze. Magic was useful for many things, but ultimately it was human intellect that was most important when it came to gathering and understanding information.

  Three seats were notably vacant, those that should be occupied by Lancaster, Tremont, and Cameron. Tremont’s vacancy was an old problem. The late Andrew Tremont’s land had been ravaged by shiggreth and had yet to be resettled. While the title was still available, it hadn’t been given out since it was currently next to worthless.

  Lancaster was a more troubling vacancy. That seat was held by the Queen’s brother, Roland, who had been missing for several weeks, along with Lancaster itself.

  The seat for the Count di’ Cameron had been empty for more than ten years, since Mordecai held the Council of Lords in general disdain. His refusal to attend had begun after his public humiliation when he had been flogged for his involvement in the destruction of Tremont’s lands and people. That alone would have made him unpopular, but the fact that his opinion still counted for more in the Queen’s eyes than did that of the entire council made them even more resentful.

  Tyrion took notice of her entrance and meandered over to talk to her before she could resume her seat. Unlike the other noblemen in the room, he eschewed excessive embroidery and ornamentation in his attire. The archmage made do with simple linen trousers and a soft leather vest over a loose, white shirt. He also left an unacceptable number of buttons undone, exposing a muscled chest covered with exotic tattoos.

  Everything about him seemed to shout his overwhelming masculinity to the room, and when he drew close, Rose could smell his scent. It didn’t carry the flowery notes so popular in the perfumes used by the aristocracy; in fact, she couldn’t detect any hint of deliberate artifice. It was just the smell of a very healthy and recently bathed male.

  It reminded her of Dorian, and that made her uncomfortable.

  “You look particularly lovely today, Lady Hightower,” said the Duke of the Wester Isles.

  Rose wasn’t interested in flattery, but for some reason she felt a faint thrill as the deep notes of his voice passed over her. She ignored her reaction as she replied, “One does what one can, Your Grace. I see your attire remains as…rustic…as ever.”

  If the reproach in her remark bothered him, he gave no sign of it. “I am what I am, Lady Hightower. Dressing myself in today’s finery would be as pointless as putting a wolf in sheep’s clothes.” There was humor in his voice.

  Nicely done, thought Rose. “A nice sentiment, Your Grace, though it ignores the fact that clothing is more than simply fashion. It has a practical purpose.”

  Tyrion grinned. “I am not well acquainted with social conventions, Lady Hightower. If I pretend to greater sophistication than I possess, it will not aid my purpose. Instead, I think it better to admit to both my strength and my weakness. The plainness of my wardrobe is a simple statement of my character. I cannot pretend to subtlety, but candor can also be a virtue in politics.”

  “Purpose and intent are the key points, Lord Tyrion,” said Rose. “Seeking to reinforce the impression of one’s integrity through plain clothing may also be a sign of artifice, if the purpose of such a display is in the service of deceit.”

  The Duke opened his arms wide, as if surrendering. “I cannot compete with you in a war of words, Lady Hightower, nor would I wish to. The truth is that I was born in a simpler time. I am not adroit enough to attempt such deliberate tactics. Candor is my only weapon; my clothes reflect that.”

  “If probity is indeed your main quality, you should have no trouble sharing your intentions, Lord Tyrion. I find it curious that you have entered the world of politics. What is your real purpose here?” asked Rose.

  “Simple I may be,” said Tyrion, “but even men such as I have more than one purpose. My main goal is the preservation of our civilization. I once fought to free mankind from the tyranny of the She’Har. Now I seek to keep it free from the corruption of ANSIS.”

  Rose looked down demurely, before returning her gaze to Tyrion’s visage. She used the opportunity to scan the room, taking note of those watching her conversation, as well as those pretending not to be interested. “It is worth noting, Your Grace, that in the end you became the enemy you fought against. It would be a tragedy if such a thing happened again.”

  Tyrion’s muscles tensed, and Rose felt his anger like a flash of heat against her skin. After a second, he responded, “I cannot help the past, but I hope in the future, my actions will dispel your mistrust.”

  Rose’s gaze remained steady. “Then we hope for the same thing, Your Grace
.”

  Leaning in, Tyrion spoke in her ear, his lips so close that she felt his breath on her neck. “I am not your enemy. I know little of hope, but I know much of desire, and I believe we both desire the same thing.”

  She struggled to repress a shiver at his closeness, but then he continued, “Rejoice, Lady Hightower, for I always take that which I desire, and you will be pleased.” Then he withdrew, heading to his own seat.

  Rose nearly gasped, for her pulse had quickened, and she felt a flush of heat in places better left unspoken. Unconsciously her hand went to her bosom, to make sure that Mordecai’s enchanted pendant was still there. It was. What was that? He shouldn’t be able to affect my emotions, she thought.

  She sat down, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of what had happened. As a result, she remained silent until Benchley stepped in to announce the Queen’s arrival.

  After Ariadne entered, the usual routine of rising, bowing, and waiting for her to take her seat followed. Minutes later, the meeting was underway, but it wasn’t long before the Duke of Cantley brought up the subject that was on everyone’s mind.

  “What about the absent Count di’ Cameron? Has he made an accounting of what happened yet?” asked Gregory Cantley.

  The Queen’s cool gaze swept across the table before she answered, “He has little to account for, Your Grace. He consulted with me before the events of that night. His actions were made with my approval.”

  Prince Leomund’s eyes seemed to bulge at that pronouncement. “You said nothing of this before.”

  “You doubt my words, husband?” asked Ariadne calmly.

  The Prince-Consort’s eyes shifted nervously, and Rose noted that they lingered on Count Airedale for a second longer than anyone else. Then he answered, “Of course not, my Queen. I was merely surprised.”

  Leomund has made a friend, noted Rose mentally. David Airedale will bear watching in the future.

  “Begging your pardon, Majesty,” said Tyrion, breaking in, “but he only speaks what we are all wondering. Your announcement is sudden, and we cannot be blamed for thinking you might merely be seeking to protect your cousin, the Count.” His eyes never left the Queen’s face as he spoke, though several members of the council drew sharp intakes of air at his brazenness.

  “My response to you is the same, Lord Tyrion,” said Ariadne. “I approved the Count di’ Cameron’s plan before it was put into effect. It was my mistake in underestimating the enemy.”

  Tyrion smiled. “I wouldn’t be so critical of yourself, Your Majesty. A ruler’s decisions are only as good as the information available to her. Speaking as a wizard, we have many means of attaining information that are not possible for those without magic. My descendant should have been more thorough in his investigation before he presented you with his proposed course of action.”

  Count Malvern spoke up, “With all due respect, Lord Tyrion, you are very new to this council to be criticizing Lord Cameron. I have personally witnessed his efforts to gain more knowledge of our enemy. I cannot think what more he could have done.”

  Airedale responded immediately, “Times have changed, Malvern. Mordecai is no longer the only wizard in Lothion. To be frank, our Queen has options now. It would seem prudent to me that we make use of them. Lord Illeniel is an excellent example of this; Lord Gaelyn is another. Their talents could be put to good use for the realm.”

  “Which is precisely why both of them are now counted among the nobility of Lothion,” observed Ariadne wryly. “We are not blind to the gifts that lie before us.”

  Lady Rose lifted a finger. “If I may?” After the Queen nodded, she went on, “Lord Tyrion, your arrival in the capital the night of the attack was fortuitous, almost unbelievably so. Would you care to explain?”

  Tyrion nodded. “I would be glad to. As all of you are aware, the people I represent are not human. The She’Har have many assets that could prove valuable to the kingdom in dealing with the threat of ANSIS. One of these is a method of detecting and locating the enemy. I was testing this when I learned that our enemy was moving on the capital.”

  “Shouldn’t you have warned the Queen then?” asked Rose.

  He shook his head. “There was no time. I had only just learned of it when the attack was about to commence. I came as quickly as I could.”

  “We would hear more of these ‘assets’ you mentioned,” said the Queen. “How were you able to learn of the attack?”

  Tyrion smiled. “May I be permitted to use a small display of magic? Nothing dangerous, just an illusion. It will make the explanation much simpler.”

  Ariadne nodded, and he lifted a hand, holding it out toward the center of the table. A second later, a small creature appeared in the air. It looked very similar to a honey bee. “This is one of the krytek,” began Tyrion. “For those unfamiliar with the She’Har, we are able to produce temporary soldiers to protect our groves. The general term for them is ‘krytek,’ but it can seem confusing to outsiders because they can take an almost infinite number of forms. We can tailor them to whatever purpose is needed. The one you see presented in this illusion is designed to detect ANSIS. Because it is small it can be produced in vast numbers, and as you can see, it has wings, which gives it a wonderful amount of mobility.”

  “When you say ‘temporary,’” questioned Ariadne, “what exactly does that mean?”

  “They live for three months,” answered Tyrion. “The limit is built into them when they are created to avoid a host of problems that might arise if we created new species and released them on a whim. Krytek are created by father-trees, while our mother-trees produce actual She’Har children who do not have this time limit and are expected to propagate our race.”

  Lord Balistair lifted his hand. “What you have shown us is incredible, but I have a question. Once these little insects of yours detect the enemy, how do they pass this information along? If you are proposing to send them flying across the length and breadth of Lothion, there will be hundreds of miles between them.”

  “An excellent question,” said Tyrion. A second figure appeared beside the bee, one with a human semblance. “The first krytek I showed you, the detectors, have a limited magical ability and minimal intelligence. They can use this not only to locate the enemy, but also communicate what they have found to their companion krytek. What I propose is to create a number of human-appearing krytek to work alongside your guardsmen.”

  Rose frowned. “When you say, ‘human-appearing,’ you mean…”

  “They would look exactly like any other citizen of the kingdom. They could be dressed in the same armor and liveries as your normal guardsmen, to avoid alarming the populace. In truth, I could give them any appearance, but I think this would be the best choice to avoid creating a panic. These krytek would receive information from the smaller ones and be capable of coordinating with your own forces,” explained Tyrion.

  “Couldn’t normal She’Har do the same thing?” questioned Rose.

  “There are too few,” said Tyrion. “Lyralliantha’s tree is still very young, and because of that, quite small. The number of children, in the case of a mother-tree, or krytek, in the case of a father-tree, that can be produced is directly limited by the size of the tree. Human-sized creatures require a significant investment of time and energy. Because of this, only a few She’Har children have been created thus far. My tree is very old and quite large, so producing swarms of these detectors and a decent number of human-sized coordinators is not a problem.”

  “It sounds like an excellent idea,” said the Queen. “How long would it take to implement?”

  “As you can guess, I have produced some of the smaller krytek. The larger coordinators are almost ready. They can begin working with your people within the week, once I transport them from my home,” said Tyrion.

  Malvern frowned. “You produced an army without consulting your Queen?”

 
“They only live a few months,” explained Tyrion. “And when I began, I was not yet a vassal of the Queen. Rest assured, I only have benign intentions in regard to our kingdom.”

  “And when the three months has passed, what then?” asked Cantley.

  “I will continue creating them during that time,” explained the new Duke of the Wester Isles. “Once the threat has passed, or when the Queen decides it is no longer necessary, I will stop.”

  The discussion went on for some time, but Rose didn’t contribute much more. Instead, she listened, and more importantly, she watched. The details of Tyrion’s proposal she filed away, but that was only a fraction of what she learned. The most important things she learned were unspoken. Glimmers and hints of backroom conversations that could only be seen by watching the faces of those who were now speaking.

  Leomund and Airedale have gotten closer, while Tyrion obviously approached Cantley and Airedale before this meeting, she noted. What concerned her even more, though, was the fact that she could tell that Ariadne and Tyrion also seemed to have developed a previous rapport. How did I miss that? she wondered.

  In contrast to the others, Cantley and Malvern hadn’t known anything about what would be discussed. From his words, Malvern seemed to have a friendly attitude toward Mordecai, but Cantley was somewhat hostile.

  In the end, she didn’t like her conclusions. Tyrion was firming up his ties with the others, and while he spoke warmly of his descendant, it was clear that he intended to use the distrust the others felt for Lord Cameron to strengthen his own position. That left only the Queen, and perhaps Lord Malvern, on Mordecai’s side of the equation.

  And the Queen was clearly smitten with Tyrion. Rose could see it in Ariadne’s eyes when she looked at the man.

  Before the meeting was adjourned and everyone began to leave, Rose had already made a mental list of fresh orders for her subordinates. Everyone in the room bore close watching, but some of them would need particular attention if she was to learn their full intentions.

 

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