Shapers of Darkness: Book Four of Winds of the Forelands (Winds of the Forelands Tetralogy)

by David B. Coe

  Still, not even Kayiv’s contempt for Eandi nobles like Harel could entirely overcome his fear of Dusaan. Even when he allowed himself to envision all that the success of the Qirsi movement might mean, he found his anticipation of this glorious future tempered by his knowledge of the man who would be the Foreland’s first Qirsi king. The emperor was a weak-minded fool. The Solkarans of Aneira were uncultured brutes, and Eibithar’s major houses had shown again and again that they were too concerned with their petty squabbles and limited ambitions to rule their people properly. Those who reigned in the other realms were no better. Nine centuries of Eandi rule had proved beyond doubt that Ean’s children were poorly suited to being kings and queens and emperors.

  But would Dusaan be any better? As much as Kayiv wanted to believe so, all he knew of the man convinced him otherwise. He had seen how ruthless the high chancellor could be, and he sensed that Dusaan would be a savage, merciless ruler. Yes, the man was Qirsi, but a tyrant was a tyrant, no matter the color of his eyes.

  It had been more than half a turn since Stavel jal Miraad, the elder chancellor, had come to him with evidence that Dusaan was offering false counsel to the emperor, convincing Kayiv that the high chancellor was a Weaver and the leader of the Qirsi cause. In the days since, the minister had grappled with his doubts, wondering if he could continue to support the Qirsi cause knowing where its triumph would lead, wondering if he possessed the strength or the courage to oppose Dusaan should he decide on such a course. To his dismay, he had come to understand that he was a coward at heart, a man who had hungered for Qirsi rule so long as the cost wasn’t too great, and who would allow his land to suffer at the hands of a demon rather than risk his life opposing him. No wonder Nitara had chosen Dusaan, despite the nearly two years Kayiv and she had been in love, and the countless passionate nights they had spent together. The high chancellor led a movement that might well change the course of history in the Forelands, and he looked like a warrior, with his broad shoulders and wild hair. Kayiv could offer her nothing more than his heart and devotion, and it seemed Nitara had grown weary of these.

  But though he no longer hoped to win back the minister, in recent days Kayiv had begun to see that there might be a way to combat the Weaver without placing himself in harm’s way. It was the coward’s path. He knew that. Still he thought it better to do something, anything, than to sit by idly as Dusaan brought ruin to all the land.

  Oddly, his plan demanded that he turn for help not only to Stavel, but also to the Eandi in Harel’s court, something the minister never thought he might do. He hated the Eandi, and had nearly all his life. He still believed that the Forelands would be a far better place were its realms led by Qirsi nobles. As for Stavel, for as long as he could remember he had been disgusted by the blind devotion with which the older chancellors served Harel, and to his mind, none had been worse in this regard than Stavel. The chancellor embodied all that Kayiv hated about his own people’s history in the Forelands. The man debased himself with his obsequiousness. When Kayiv’s people spoke of white-hairs whose blood ran more Eandi than Qirsi, they did so with men like Stavel in mind.

  But it was the chancellor who had first revealed to him that Dusaan was advising the emperor to begin his attack on Eibithar early, and that the high chancellor was presenting this as counsel that came from all of Harel’s Qirsi. Even had there been another Qirsi whose help the minister preferred to accept, he would have had to turn to Stavel eventually. And as it happened, there was no one else.

  First, though, Kayiv needed to enhance his standing in Harel’s court. And for this, he needed the help of the one man who, only a short time ago, would have seemed an even more unlikely ally than Stavel: Uriad Ganjer, the emperor’s master of arms.

  Rumor had it that the arms master was livid at the emperor’s decision to hasten the invasion of Eibithar, and that much of his ire was directed at Dusaan and the rest of the Qirsi, whose counsel he believed had convinced Harel to attack so soon.

  As Eandi went, Uriad was more intelligent than most, and though a warrior, he was not given to the blind hatred of all Qirsi that Kayiv had observed in other Eandi men of arms. Still, the minister had never before had occasion to speak with Uriad other than to exchange pleasantries at an imperial banquet or while passing one another in the palace corridors. No doubt the master of arms would view with suspicion any overtures Kayiv made. The minister could only hope that Uriad’s anger at Dusaan and his concern for the success of the invasion would overmaster his distrust.

  For several days after resolving at last to speak with the master of arms, Kayiv searched for ways he might contrive to begin such a conversation without seeming too obvious. The truth was, however, their paths rarely crossed, and it occurred to Kayiv that this was hardly a discussion to be started casually, or by chance. At last, on the eighth day of the waning, the minister decided that he had little choice but to approach Uriad directly.

  He found the armsmaster early in the morning in the central courtyard of the palace, training the men of Hare’s imperial guard. Most of the soldiers would be sailing for Eibithar in another few days. There was little that Uriad could teach them in the time he had left. Kayiv sensed, however, that the master of arms no longer did this for the men, but rather for himself. Perhaps fearing that the emperor’s decision had upset all his careful planning, Uriad sought to reassure himself that the army wouldn’t fail for lack of preparation. Or perhaps he merely vented his anger at Harel by working his men mercilessly. Whatever his reasons, the master of arms watched the men with a stony expression on his long face, his black eyes narrowed, as if he were watching for the next mistake so that he could yell at the soldiers again. Occasionally he barked out instructions, his voice echoing off the palace walls.

  Faced now with the prospect of approaching this imposing figure, Kayiv faltered, nearly retreating back into the palace. But he could imagine Nitara laughing at him, calling him a coward and worse. Taking a breath, he crossed to where Uriad stood, stopping just beside him. The master of arms was nearly a full head taller than Kayiv, and the minister felt like a child standing with him.

  “The men look to be in fine form, armsmaster.”

  Uriad glanced down at him, his expression unchanged.

  “I’ve no doubt that they’ll acquit themselves quite well in the coming war.”

  Still the man offered no reply, and Kayiv found himself casting about for something else to say. Too late, he realized that complimenting Uriad on the training of the men had been a poor idea. As far as the armsmaster knew, he was one of the Qirsi who had joined with Dusaan in recommending that the emperor begin his invasion sooner rather than later. No wonder Uriad had greeted him so coldly.

  “What a shame that others in the palace aren’t showing such dedication in their preparation for the invasion.”

  Uriad cast him another look, then turned fully to face him. “What do you want, Minister?”

  Gods, the man was big! Kayiv had to fight an urge to flee. “Merely to speak with you, armsmaster. You may not believe this, but you and I are allies in this fight.”

  The man frowned. “What fight? What are you talking about?”

  Kayiv winced. He wasn’t handling this well at all. “I know the high chancellor made it seem that all the emperor’s Qirsi were in favor of moving the invasion forward, but that’s not the case. Some of us—a good many, really—feared that by upsetting your plans so, we risked dooming the invasion to failure.”

  Uriad’s eyes flicked toward his men, and when next he spoke, his voice had dropped lower. “The plan is still sound. I would have liked more time, but the invasion will succeed.”

  “Of course it’s sound, armsmaster. None of us questions that. But if you could have more time, wouldn’t you still want it?”

  “We both know that’s not possible.”

  “But the high chancellor—”

  “The high chancellor merely told the emperor what he wanted to hear. The emperor had long since grown imp
atient with my preparations.”

  “But he never would have changed his mind had the high chancellor not recommended it.”

  “What is it you hope to accomplish, Minister? As I say, the decision has been made. You and I both know that the emperor isn’t about to change his mind. The men will soon sail for the waters off Galdasten, perhaps before the end of the waning, and by then the fleet’s battle with Eibithar’s ships will already be under way. There’s no more time.”

  “You can’t know that for certain. And even if you’re right, don’t you find it alarming that the high chancellor should wield such enormous influence with the emperor?”

  “Not at all. It’s to be expected.”

  “But these are dangerous times. Don’t you fear giving such power to the Qirsi? What if a man in the high chancellor’s position didn’t have the best interests of his realm at heart? What if he were abusing his influence, misrepresenting the counsel offered by his fellow Qirsi?”

  Uriad’s eyes widened. “Is the high chancellor doing that?”

  “It would be cause for concern, wouldn’t it?”

  “Answer me, Minister. Is the high chancellor doing that?”

  “I’ve already told you he made it seem that all the emperor’s other Qirsi supported rushing the invasion. We didn’t.”

  The master of arms frowned. “That’s hardly the same thing. I wouldn’t expect the high chancellor to relate to His Eminence every point of view presented in your discussions. The emperor hasn’t time for such foolishness. It’s proper that he merely inform the emperor of the decisions you reach.”

  He didn’t discuss it with us at all, Kayiv wanted to say. But he couldn’t go that far. At least not yet. “We reached no decision,” he said instead. “The high chancellor imposed his will upon us and then presented the recommendation to the emperor as if we had all agreed with him.”

  The armsmaster seemed to weigh this for some time, shrugging at last. “I’m not even certain I see anything wrong with that. He leads your people here in the palace, he speaks for you. It seems natural to me that his opinion on certain matters should carry greater weight. I say that even knowing that he and I are working at cross purposes in this instance.”

  Kayiv shook his head. “You still don’t understand.”

  “Then tell me what’s on your mind and be done with it!”

  “I can’t. Don’t you see? The high chancellor is a powerful man—as you say, he leads our people. I . . . I’m afraid of him, of what he can do to me.”

  Uriad’s eyes narrowed once more. “And what is that?”

  “He can have me banished from the court.” He can have me killed.

  “And you honestly think he would?”

  “If I defy him openly, yes.”

  “Well, I have no desire to see you sent from the palace, but I still don’t understand what you want of me. I have no sway with the high chancellor. I respect him, and I believe he respects me. But I wouldn’t presume to tell him how to treat the other Qirsi any more than he would tell me how to train my men.”

  “I’m not asking you to do anything of that sort, armsmaster. I merely wish to help you convince the emperor that the invasion has a better chance of success if we follow your original plans. I’d be willing to approach the emperor with you, to let him know that some of his Qirsi feel as you do, that this was the wrong decision.”

  A wry smile touched the man’s lips and was gone. “Harel the Fourth does not take kindly to being told that he’s in error. We’d both wind up with our heads on pikes.”

  “Not if we made it clear to him that he was the victim of poor counsel. Surely he couldn’t take offense at that.”

  Uriad pressed his lips in a tight line, glancing at his men once more. “We still have several ships in the yards at Finkirk. If we wait another turn or two, the ships will be completed and we can add them to the fleet. Our navy would be stronger than it’s ever been.”

  “How many ships?”

  The armsmaster looked at him again. “Four. Each with three masts and three rows of sweeps. They’ll be the finest warships ever to sail the waters of the Forelands.”

  “Four ships,” Kayiv repeated. “Such vessels could mean the difference between victory and defeat.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Don’t we owe it to the emperor to tell him as much?”

  The armsmaster smiled thinly, though there was no hint of amusement in his dark eyes. “You can be very persuasive, Minister. But I still want to know what game you’re playing.”

  “I assure you, armsmaster—”

  “Don’t,” Uriad said, shaking his head. “I may not be as skilled in the machinations of the court as you are, but I’ve served here for long enough to learn a thing or two. You want something. It may not be from me directly, but you certainly seem intent on using me to get it. And that’s fine. If you’re sincere in your desire to help the emperor and delay this invasion a short while, then I’m willing to play along, within reason. But I won’t do so blindly.”

  Kayiv felt like a child, caught breaking one of his father’s rules. “I am sincere,” he said. “And I will do all in my power to delay the invasion, to return it to the timing you had foreseen. As to the rest . . .” He shrugged weakly. “The rest is difficult to explain.”

  Uriad merely stared at him. “Try.”

  “It’s a Qirsi matter.”

  He faced the soldiers once more. “In that case, I’d suggest you enlist the help of your fellow ministers and chancellors and leave me alone.”

  “I intend to go to them, armsmaster. You must believe me. But I need the help of someone outside our circle. In essence, I’ll be pitting myself against the high chancellor, and if I give the other ministers and chancellors such a choice, they’ll be afraid to ally themselves with me.” He hesitated, though only briefly. This was the path he had chosen; there could be no turning back now. “But if I can claim you as an ally, the others may be willing to join me.”

  “And what would you do with such an alliance, Minister?”

  Expose the high chancellor for what he truly is.

  “I’d make certain that the counsel offered to our emperor was sound, that if it was said to come from all of his Qirsi, it would come from all of his Qirsi and not just one man. Consider the times in which we live, armsmaster. Can we truly afford to do any less?”

  “You raise an interesting point,” Uriad said, with some reluctance.

  “I can’t promise you that we’ll change the emperor’s mind about the invasion. But I’ll try, and perhaps I can prevail upon other ministers to join me in the effort.”

  “What would you want from me in return?”

  “As I said before, I need your support. I need to know that when the time comes for my fellow ministers and me to approach the emperor, you’ll be with us, in body and spirit.”

  “You believe I can protect you from the high chancellor.”

  Kayiv knew he hadn’t been terribly subtle. Still, he was discomfited by the directness of Uriad’s statement. In truth, if Dusaan was a Weaver, there was no one in the Forelands who could protect him. But under the circumstances, Uriad was the most powerful ally for whom he could hope. And since at the moment he was utterly alone, he was desperate for any friends he could find.

  “I’m but a minister in this court, armsmaster. I’ve some influence with the other Qirsi, and I’ll bring it all to bear in this effort. But if I stand alone against the high chancellor I’ll be crushed. With you on my side, my prospects improve significantly. Surely you can see that.”

  “Yes, I can,” the master of arms said. He paused briefly, then finally nodded. “Very well, Minister. When the time comes, you’ll have my support. Speak with the other Qirsi, and send word to me when you’re ready to seek an audience with the emperor. I’ll be there.”

  It was more than he had expected, more than he had dared hope. “Thank you, armsmaster. I’m most grateful.” He felt that he should bow to the man, or embrace him, so th
ankful was he. But he merely said “Thank you” a second time and hurried away, intending to return to his chamber so that he might consider how best to proceed now that his conversation with Uriad had gone so well.

  Before he had gone far, though, he heard the midmorning bells begin to toll in Curtell City. It was time for all the emperor’s ministers and chancellors to gather in Dusaan’s ministerial chambers. Instantly, he found himself glancing about the courtyard, looking for any other Qirsi who might have seen him speaking with the master of arms. And doing so, he caught a glimpse of white hair as a figure vanished into the tower nearest the high chancellor’s chamber. It was no more than a split second, a glimmer of white in the darkened archway, but for Kayiv, who had committed to memory every facet of her appearance, it was more than enough.

  Of course it would be Nitara, and no doubt she would go directly to Dusaan, to tell him what she had seen. Kayiv felt his legs start to tremble.

  He’d done nothing wrong, nothing for which the high chancellor could punish him without revealing more about himself than he wished. Certainly it wasn’t all that unusual for one of the emperor’s ministers to speak with Harel’s most important military advisor. Except that Kayiv and Uriad had never before spoken at length, and somehow the high chancellor would know this. Kayiv was certain of it. News of their conversation would start Dusaan thinking. What could the minister possibly have to say to Uriad? If anything, a member of the Weaver’s movement would wish to avoid such an encounter. The risks were too great.

  The minister closed his eyes for just a moment, cursing his carelessness. He should have found somewhere less obvious to speak with Uriad, even if it meant going to the man’s private quarters. Dusaan would be watching him now, searching for other signs of odd behavior, and making whatever Kayiv decided to do next that much more difficult.