by Stephen Hunt
A little way back from the main fire there was one traveller stretched out under a blanket, and Sheplar recognized the long lustrous hair of the bumo. There was a stake in the ground close to her. Hah, they have tethered her like their precious horses, and do not care to share the warmth of their camp fire with her. No doubt the nomads did not find the haughty Vandian girl’s constant complaints any more to their taste than Sheplar had. He crawled closer to the ground where she lay, taking his dagger out to slice the rope, and then bent over her huddled sleeping form, turning her body ready to clamp his hand over her mouth should she call out in fright. Except that her mouth had been gagged and the bumo was wide awake, her eyes stretched wide in alarm with her hands bound behind her back.
Sheplar felt the jab of the spear against his neck before he could raise his rifle. Nomads rose like wraiths from the grass around him.
‘As I dreamed for you,’ called a female Nijumet. ‘A rice eater and a forest devil.’
‘Find their horses,’ whooped the muscled young male by her side. He swivelled one of the hunched figures sitting around the fire around, a tunic and cloak stuffed with dried grass, raising the arm mockingly in salute of his two new prisoners. ‘These two won’t be worth much as thralls, one is too old and the other is as prickly as a porcupine on the spit. I’ll count their mounts and weapons as our night’s prize.’
Sheplar groaned. A witch rider, and an obviously powerful seer. Kerge might not be able to scry into the future any longer, but the raiders could. And the witch had delivered them to her prancing savages like a gift.
Duncan found Princess Helrena alone in her chambers on the great warship, no guards, no Paetro. She appeared in a pensive mood, pacing along a series of portholes, the view over Arcadia’s distant sprawl across the hills little distraction to whatever really occupied her attention.
‘You have talked with your father?’ asked the princess as she noticed his presence.
‘Yes,’ said Duncan, bowing. ‘I met with him again in private last night. He will ensure my sister helps us. I am to meet with him later today to hear of Willow’s … cooperation.’ There hadn’t been much joy in the exchange, but if there was one thing Duncan could always trust in, it was Benner Landor’s desire to further his house’s glory. When Willow returned from Midsburg with the emperor’s granddaughter, King Marcus would grant Duncan’s father a lot more than a noble title to half of Havenharl. Willow would have no choice. Not if she valued the new life swelling inside her belly. ‘And it seems I have a new half-brother … a babe called Asher.’
‘Congratulations to you and your family. I have many hundreds of them, thanks to the imperial harem,’ said Helrena. ‘As well as many half-sisters who would happily slip a dagger into my spine if it meant they could steal my house’s holdings.’
‘Young Asher Landor won’t have to fight me for title to Hawkland Park,’ said Duncan. ‘He can have it. My place is in Vandia.’
‘It is of your place that we must talk, Duncan. I too have been in counsel, negotiating with Prince Gyal,’ said Helrena, her words slow and serious. ‘Seeking his assurances about Lady Cassandra’s safety in the coming assault on the rebel capital.’
What did Helrena mean by your place? Duncan didn’t like the sound of that. ‘And were any guarantees forthcoming?’
‘At a price,’ said Helrena.
Duncan heard the apprehension in her words, his unsettled feeling swelling. ‘What has he asked for?’
‘My support in his bid for the diamond throne.’
That. This was the moment that Duncan had always dreaded. Would Helrena choose her daughter or her ambition? Saints, please let her choose Cassandra. She had to. This was all for Cassandra, wasn’t it? Helrena had said as much. But Duncan knew how strongly she saw the imperial throne as her destiny. ‘Gyal would have you forswear your claim for his own?’
‘In a manner of speaking.’
Now Duncan was really worried. What had she promised her rival? ‘You can’t allow Gyal to usurp your claim. You must have heard the rumours that Gyal is actually Circae’s son.’ He reached out for Helrena’s cheek, but she pushed his hand away. ‘What is it? What has—?’
‘Prince Gyal has said that I may yet be empress. By marrying him and ruling by his side when he is emperor.’
Duncan swayed with shock at the news. He always knew this day would come – Helrena having to make a marriage match to secure some vitally important alliance – but not with Gyal. Not so soon. How could she? ‘This is madness. Circae loathes you. She would never allow this.’
‘Prince Gyal calculates that with his house and mine joining together, his allies plus my own, the wealth from both our holdings in the sky mines, we could gain the throne even with Circae’s opposition. In that calculation, he is likely correct. Apolleon and the hoodsmen will undoubtedly support me, and very few will wish to cross the head of the secret police. And of course, Cassandra would remain in line for the imperial throne, Circae’s own granddaughter. In time, perhaps Circae and I could overcome our animosity.’
‘Prince Gyal would keep the imperial harem,’ said Duncan, casting about for something, anything, to make Helrena change her mind. ‘How many other claimants to the throne would Emperor Gyal produce during your joint reign? You have but one womb to produce heirs to the throne with Gyal, and he would have every determined daughter of the emperor throwing themselves at him. How many of those houses would be content with Cassandra having precedence over their heirs? Cassandra would never sleep safe from an assassin’s blade again.’
‘She has never slept a night safe yet,’ said Helrena. ‘And Cassandra would have Circae scheming on her behalf, watching her back. Circae would keep her position as mistress of the harem, which is all she really desires. She would have her chosen piece occupying the throne, albeit at a price. Everyone wins. It is how the game is played.’
‘How can it be worth the price?’
‘The trajectory of my life’s course was set long ago,’ said Helrena, sadly.
‘And us?’
‘You always knew that this dalliance would have to end. Did I not warn you?’
Dalliance. Had he mattered so very little to Helrena? ‘I see nothing good coming from an alliance with the prince.’
‘I must set you aside, Duncan. There is always one rule for an emperor and another for an empress. Gyal might tolerate his first wife seeking solace in other arms for a brief period, but he would not suffer a long-term lover walking by my side through the years. Through such understandings are plots fermented and weaknesses opened at the imperial court. I have too much care for you to allow you to be shoved off a walkway in Vandis one dark night when nobody is watching.’
‘Too much care for that to happen, but not too much to do this,’ said Duncan.
‘This is the way it must be. I will gain the throne and Gyal will strain every sinew to ensure that my little girl is returned safe to my house. Cassandra will be as safe as she ever will be, protected by both an emperor and empress in Vandia. And there are so many other considerations. Everyone in my house will flourish and prosper under the arrangement. You, Paetro, Doctor Horvak, the millions living in my district and across my holdings in the provinces.’
‘I don’t want money or power,’ said Duncan, choking back a sob.
‘And that is why I trust only you to look after my daughter and my life,’ said Helrena, gently. ‘And why I must set you aside from my heart. From now on, you are Duncan Landor of my house, not Duncan Landor of my bed chamber.’
‘I have given up everything for you,’ said Duncan. ‘My country, my old life, the chance to return to Weyland.’
‘You are a citizen of the imperium,’ said Helrena. ‘There is nothing grander in all of Pellas.’
‘I love you,’ said Duncan, his heart breaking.
‘And when I am empress you and the whole empire will love me,’ said Helrena. ‘There is so much I have yet to do. There are things you know nothing of, that I must keep to myse
lf, battles yet to be fought—’
‘You are talking of Apolleon’s schemes?’
Helrena nodded. ‘I am.’
‘To hell with him. Nothing can be worth this.’
‘Everything is worth this. You have to trust me, Duncan. I must take the throne, whatever the cost.’
‘So, I am to trust you, but never to love you.’
Helrena kissed him; a sad, lingering thing, and somehow Duncan knew it was the last time he was to feel her lips against his. ‘Love me if you will, but take care never to show it in public. If you do not feel you can do it, then stay here in Weyland when the fleet flies home. It will be safer for all of us.’
Duncan didn’t know what to say. He had been holding on to Helrena for so long, even knowing this day would arrive. But never so quickly.
‘Do not think I am suggesting you leave my service for convenience’s sake. I still have great need of you,’ said Helrena. ‘Now and later. As will Cassandra. As you point out, when we return to Vandia, the need to have eyes in the back of my head will increase not lessen. There will be threats everywhere in the last months to claim the diamond throne. Those who have set their sights on the throne for their own houses will be desperate to break my alliance with Gyal, and they will come at me twice as hard when they see how close we are to taking the empire. Will you stay with my house, give me your loyalty?’
Will I? Paetro’s words during the flight to the palace in Arcadia had been proved prophetic. A life in Weyland seemed small beyond insignificance after living in the imperium. Arcadia’s canals were open sewers compared to the endless towering majesty of Vandis, Arcadia’s buildings a lean-to of foresters’ hovels compared to the imperial capital. The House of Landor’s grasping avarice was almost a joke compared to the power wielded by the most minor of the imperium’s families. Vandia was the centre of the world. Weyland and the league, the whole Lanca, nothing but a distant backwood at the nub-end of the caravan routes. What counted as civilization here only subsisted on scraps from Vandia, passed between rattling traders’ caravans for centuries until the metals finally drifted through Riverlarn and Creedlore and Havenharl. Duncan had seen the wide expanse of the world. His eyes had been opened. Living in Northhaven would be life in a cage; it would be no life at all, a mere existence, savage and constricted and forever haunted by the glories of the empire. I can never go back. Paetro had seen the truth of it, and perhaps Willow had too, when she’d treated him like a stranger. Even Benner Landor had forgotten he possessed a son, handling Duncan like an ally to be wheedled to his side.
‘I’ll stay,’ said Duncan, reluctantly. ‘With your house, not here.’
‘Then we have our life,’ said Helrena. She sounded as if she had known all along that this was the decision Duncan would make. She’s surer of me than I am. ‘And we will spend it well,’ she added.
And how hollow will our victory be? Duncan had never realized he could feel so conflicted. Helrena was right. This unholy alliance would help bring Cassandra back unharmed. It might even bring Helrena the throne, albeit as only half its owner. And after that, the risks would never be greater … and he could play a part in it. Duncan Landor, former slave of the imperium, now a free citizen. And the woman who would be its mistress would embed him in the centre of all this, astride history, seizing the chance to shape the world, or as much of Pellas as truly counted. And all I have to sacrifice to rise high beyond mortal dreams … is my love for her …
Duncan walked through the corridors of the house behind a servant, marble floors and oak panels absorbing his footsteps. It was the first time he had visited Willow’s new home. A fine old pile, but crumbling around the edges, scaffolds still up where repair work was being undertaken. In wartime such labour was hard to find, and no doubt they were paying a pretty penny for their workmen. They climbed a wide set of stairs and turned towards the front of the house and its commanding views over the grounds below. Distant music tinkled down the corridor, growing louder as they approached a double set of white-painted doors. The servant knocked, opened the door and bade Duncan enter.
‘See that we are undisturbed,’ commanded Leyla Landor, the servant bowing in response and closing the door to the music room. She had been playing at the piano situated in the corner, surrounded by leather divans for an audience that was wholly missing. Apart from Duncan, of course. It was probably true then, the rumours he had heard, Benner Landor’s new wife had been on the stage at some time in the past. She’s certainly pretty enough.
‘I expected to see my father here,’ said Duncan. ‘To hear his answer and to meet with my sister.’
‘I know all about the need to secure your sister’s help. Your father asked me to ensure Willow’s cooperation. He has other matters on his mind of late. Benner is helping the wet nurse take little Asher around the grounds for some air,’ said Leyla. ‘Benner is quite besotted with his new son. He even insists on swaddling the babe himself rather than trusting our nursery staff.’
‘I can’t remember him ever setting aside his business for myself or my sister.’
‘He is older now,’ said Leyla. ‘A man’s perspective on such things changes with age. You should not hold it against him.’
‘You have softened him.’
‘Perhaps. A female touch has long been lacking at the park. A house with no mistress is a sad and lonely thing.’
‘My father can play happy families all he cares to,’ said Duncan, not bothering to hide his bitterness. ‘And my new half-brother is welcome to Hawkland Park and all it holds. My life lies in the imperium, now. Where is my sister?’
‘I asked my manservant Nocks to escort her to a public execution outside the capital’s eastern gate. Six would-be rebels who were caught distributing pamphlets denouncing the loyalist cause. Willow has agreed to help retrieve Lady Cassandra from Midsburg, but I detected a certain reluctance in her tone. A demonstration of what will happen to her old friends if she doesn’t cooperate may help soften her.’
Duncan snorted. ‘As I understand it, the Carnehan family are not in the king’s gift to hang anymore.’
‘Oh, but they will be again, if they’re not caught escaping north first, or shot fighting for the assembly and the rebels later. A useful half-truth that will serve us well in rescuing poor Lady Cassandra from those who hold her captive.’
‘You sound as sure of victory as I am,’ said Duncan.
‘Naturally. I was at court long before I travelled north and married your father. The north is rich in land and peasants required to farm it. The south is rich in mills and forges and such produce that may be manufactured. You can eat wheat and you can burn corn oil, but it takes bullets and iron to kill your foe. Even without the Vandians supporting King Marcus, the loyalist cause would have swept the north before it, iron against wheat, grinding them into dust. This is a rebellion with only one outcome.’
‘And you don’t question where all this newfound wealth comes from?’
‘You sound like a harping Creedlore news sheet. You’re not a stupid man, Duncan Landor; wealth comes from power and those who wield it. In this century as in any moment selected from the last ten thousand years. The only question is whether you wish to be the noble who owns the plough, or the back bent working behind it. I had to answer the same question many years ago. As did your father. And you know what answer he reached.’
‘I was half expecting to arrive to find Willow had refused me,’ said Duncan.
‘I hold another card to play,’ smiled Leyla, toying coyly with her long blonde ringlets. ‘Willow has been unkind to the domestics here, letting her temper fly. One of our men ended up on the wrong end of a blade and did not survive the altercation. Willow could probably plead her belly and be forgiven by a magistrate; especially as she is Lady Wallingbeck now. But luckily for you, Willow is not willing to take that chance.’
‘Willow?’ said Duncan. ‘Willow murdered a man?’
‘What Willow endured as a slave has left her unhinged,’ sighed Le
yla. ‘Full of strange fancies and seeing threats behind every curtain. Your sister has become a very different creature to the girl you grew up with in Northhaven. It is understandable. What a terrible trial she endured. Some people emerge from such a tempering as steel,’ she touched Duncan’s sleeve and squeezed his muscles, ‘others are fractured by the same events. But if her crime gives us the chance we need to save your poor young imperial noblewoman then some good will yet come of this.’
Fractured. Duncan remembered the almost feral pastor of Northhaven, facing him below the volcano’s eruption during the slave revolt. ‘Some good, perhaps. You make it sound very practical.’
‘Women always are, in the end. I have done what is required. I have bent Willow’s will to aid you,’ said Leyla, ‘and I would have my reward.’
‘Your reward?’ said Duncan. ‘When King Marcus can tell the Vandians that Cassandra has been freed from the rebels, I am sure the king will grant my father all the titles he desires. Maybe the old man will be made a prefect of the north.’
‘He is an old man,’ said Leyla. ‘And the reward I have in mind isn’t his to claim.’ Leyla pulled Duncan close by the shirt, kissing him passionately until he pushed back in surprise verging on shock.
‘In the saints’ name, what are you doing?’
Her eyes glinted impishly and challenging. ‘Am I so unattractive with a few extra pounds still upon me? I thought you northern men liked their women cushioned against the chill.’
In truth she was far from unattractive, but still. ‘You are my father’s wife.’
‘Benner has not visited my bed once during my pregnancy or in the days after,’ complained Leyla, her cheeks flushed with mischief. ‘Was not this arrangement always about producing a new heir to your house? Well, Asher is produced. I know Benner would never have married me otherwise, not if he had not believed both his children enslaved and dead. He refused every suitor from the court for decades.’
‘My heart lies with another,’ said Duncan, but his heart had quickened at her touch, the hesitation in his words telling another story. Leyla was closer to his age than Helrena by many years, and her face was so pretty it could have been fashioned from porcelain. And she has not rejected me. Unlike the mistress of his house, this lady was a beautiful young woman who seemed to appreciate his virtues.
