Since Nidhud and the Knights of Esthrane had returned from exile, none of the other warlords could claim the Citadel as their own. The Knights had gone to ground for the daylight hours, but come nightfall, they would return. Blaine suspected that knowledge that the Knights supported him encouraged the other warlords to consider cooperation.
“At least they came,” Niklas replied. He had left Ayers in charge of mopping up after the Lysander skirmish, and brought several dozen soldiers to the Citadel for the summit. “And we’ve got a balance of power. Equal forces.”
“How sure are we no one is bending the rules?” Kestel asked, surveying the area warily.
Niklas gave a grim smile. “Dagur and the mages are watching the area. Or, more precisely, they’re scanning the area behind us to make sure we don’t get blindsided. If any large force moves anywhere near this place, he’ll signal us. More importantly, he’ll signal the mages, who stand ready with the rest of the troops.” And come nightfall, Blaine knew that Nidhud would be waiting with a contingent of the Knights of Esthrane, as would Geir and several of the talishte from Penhallow’s brood, just in case.
“Do we know whether the other warlords have mages, too?” Piran asked. “This could go very wrong very quickly.”
“No one of power other than Tormod Solveig,” Niklas replied. “At least, according to Dagur.” He paused. “Rumor has it Solveig’s a mage, but beyond that, we don’t know much about him.”
“And I can tell you that no one’s calling on the magic nearby. If they were, I’d feel it. Enough talking. Let’s go in.” Blaine swung down from his horse. He removed his sword belt and scabbard, and handed them over to Niklas. “Keep it handy, just in case.”
Grumbling to himself, Piran did the same, as did Kestel, although Blaine was certain Kestel had not given up all her weapons. Then again, he thought, Piran probably had some extras handy as well. That thought cheered him as they walked toward the Citadel.
Niklas’s men had set up the meeting place: a bare table and three sturdy chairs for the warlords, with room for the bodyguards. By design, the meeting area was austere. Fewer decorations meant no place to hide assassins.
The flat area next to the tower might once have been a gathering place or a garden. Now it was open on three sides, dotted here and there with fallen stones and rubble. Niklas’s men had chopped back the overgrown vegetation.
Blaine ascended the dozen stone steps that led to the meeting place. He was glad to reach the high ground before the other warlords, using the few moments of lead time to assess his ‘guests.’
To his right, Sindre Verner moved up the stairs. He was not a tall man, but he looked as if he had done hard labor, with powerful arms and sturdy shoulders, and he walked like a man who had spent a lifetime in the army. Like Blaine, he had a cloak against the spring chill and wore a leather cuirass and vambraces. It was what Blaine would have expected from a soldier. The two bodyguards behind Verner were large men, but they held themselves like soldiers, shoulders squared, back straight, eyes forward.
That fit what Blaine knew of Verner. According to Niklas, Verner had been a major in the king’s army during the Meroven War, a man of reasonable honor, though reputed to favor whiskey too much on occasion. Verner’s broad features and florid coloring seemed to back up the story. Still, Niklas said Verner had a reputation of demanding nothing from his men that he did not require of himself. That boded well, Blaine thought.
To his left, Rinka and Tormod Solveig walked up the steps with stately grace. The two shared a resemblance that made it clear they were brother and sister. Crow-black hair and eyes and pale skin might have given Blaine to wonder if they were talishte, had it not been full sunlight. Both Rinka and Tormod were dressed in leather armor that had definitely seen use.
Unlike the serviceable pieces Blaine and Verner wore, the Solveigs’ armor looked to have been custom-made to provide excellent defense while making an indelible impression. Rinka’s leather had been dyed red, so that at first glance, it appeared she was already awash in blood. Tormod’s leather armor was black, tooled with runes.
Their two bodyguards were dressed in worn leather armor, mismatched pieces that had likely been assembled from multiple owners. The bodyguards moved with a lightness that suggested they might be as equally skilled at thieving as fighting.
While Verner was an unknown in Blaine’s experience, Blaine knew the Solveigs by reputation from Velant. The brother and sister had been exiled for running brothels and gaming houses in the three largest cities west of Castle Reach. As Blaine recalled, King Merrill’s soldiers were happy to look the other way in return for generous bribes.
The Solveigs’ success ended when the king sent a regiment to demand long-overdue taxes. In Edgeland, it was rumored they ran a profitable prostitution and gambling racket and bribed guards well enough to get away with it. They had returned to Donderath on the same ship as Blaine. Clearly, the Solveigs saw a profit to be made.
Verner gave Blaine and his friends a long, scrutinizing look. “I knew your father when he served in King Merrill’s army. I always said he deserved to be murdered; I just didn’t expect his son would be the one to do it.”
Blaine shrugged. “I had my reasons.”
Verner nodded. “I’m sure you did.”
Rinka’s gaze was on Kestel. “I don’t remember anything about bringing our own assassins with us,” she said. Her voice had a raw quality to it, as if she favored whiskey, or had once nearly been garroted.
“Congratulations on running such a successful business in Edgeland,” Kestel replied.
Rinka shrugged. “Actually, it was easier in Edgeland. The guards always had money for women and liquor. Here, no one has money for much.”
Blaine broke the impasse and pulled out his chair to take a seat, prompting the others to do the same. It was clear that just showing up to the meeting had expended this group’s reservoir of trust.
“I want to propose an alliance,” Blaine said. “My army controls from Glenreith south to Castle Reach, including Quillarth Castle and the seaport. The Solveigs control the area to the north and west of Glenreith, to the Pelaran River.” He looked to Verner. “Verner controls an arc of land from just beyond Glenreith and Mirdalur, west to the Solveigs’. Allied, we would control a crescent through the heart of Donderath, including the two most valuable trade routes and the key roads between the coast and the river.”
“We already control those areas,” Rinka replied. “What do we gain from an alliance?”
“Safe passage, for one thing,” Blaine replied. “Together, we can encourage merchants and caravans to move freely through our territories, without fear of being stopped at the borders from one holding to the next.
“Our mages have also confirmed that the severe storms happening now are because King Merrill’s mages used magic to control the weather before the Great Fire,” Blaine continued. “They’re likely to continue until the natural currents stabilize, which means we’re in for a rough ride. Our chances for surviving are much better working together.”
“Strength in numbers,” Verner added. He leaned forward, looking to Blaine and then to the Solveigs. “We’re not the only warlords to consider alliance. I have heard that Torinth Rostivan has made alliances in the far north, between his lands and the Riven Mountains.”
Blaine and Kestel exchanged glances. Valshoa is in the Riven Mountains, Blaine thought. That confirms what Lowrey said and it means Quintrel really is preparing for a return to civilization. Interesting.
“Larska Hennoch’s been in talks with Lord Pollard. Together, their army controls from east of the Arkala twins and Lysander to the foothills of the Riven Mountains,” Rinka said, leaning back in her chair and affecting boredom. Blaine was quite certain that despite her appearance, she was actively engaged in sizing up the opportunities.
“Pollard and Reese were weakened at the Battle of Valshoa,” Blaine said. “We beat them back, and shattered their army. Lord Penhallow controls Westbain now
, and the territory from there to Rodestead House and north to Lundmyhre. Counting Traher Voss’s land, that extends their hold down to the coast.”
Verner made a sign of warding at the last name. “I want nothing to do with Lundmyhre,” he said. “The place is cursed.”
“I already have an understanding with both Lord Penhallow and the Wraith Lord. Those lands are in friendly hands,” Blaine replied.
That bit of news got a wary look from Verner and a raised eyebrow from Rinka.
“Your proposed alliance sounds wonderful,” Rinka said in a tone that conveyed deep skepticism. “What does it cost us?”
“We agree to allow free passage for trade between our sovereign areas,” Blaine said, rolling out a map he had brought showing the proposed boundaries of the alliance, “so we gain from increased trade, and agree to forfeit some passage fees.”
Tormod leaned over to whisper to Rinka, who nodded. “Worth considering,” she replied. “What else?”
“There is an agreement for mutual protection,” Blaine said, meeting first Verner’s gaze and then Rinka’s, followed by Tormod’s. “If Torinth Rostivan has allied with Vigus Quintrel and his mages, we all face a significant threat from the north. And if Hennoch is allied with Lord Pollard and Pentreath Reese, then once Reese recoups his losses, be assured they will look to expand their territory.” He paused. “And I think we have all seen Lysander’s tactics. He’s aggressive, and he doesn’t care how many people he has to kill to get what he wants.”
“What do you propose?” Verner asked. Now that the topic turned to military matters, he seemed in his element.
“First, that none of us will ally with Rostivan, Lysander, Hennoch, Pollard, or Reese,” Blaine said. “We are allied against them.”
“And?” Rinka prodded.
“I’m confident that Penhallow and the Wraith Lord can hold their area without our help. But if Hennoch and Rostivan want trade routes, we’ve cut them off from the river and from the coast. Eventually, they’ll want to change that,” Blaine replied. “And Lysander seems to be out to grab as much territory as he can get. In the short run, I would expect them to make a push to test our strengths while things are still in flux. This alliance will help us hold our borders.”
“We’ve got a lot of rebuilding to do, crops to plant and harvest if we want to eat,” Verner said. “We can’t afford to have our men fighting continually.”
“Verner’s land and my land buffer McFadden’s territory from Rostivan and the west,” Rinka said. “Why will McFadden care if we get attacked on our borders?”
“I’ll care because if you fall, I have one less ally when the attacks come my way,” Blaine said with a pointed glance toward Rinka. “If Hennoch, Rostivan, and Reese ally—even without Lysander—they could crush any of us individually. But we are allied, and have the support of Penhallow, Voss, and the Wraith Lord, we can hold back the attack.”
“What of their lands? Rostivan, Lysander, Reese, the Arkalas, and Hennoch. Do we hope to capture them?” Rinka was watching both Blaine and Verner closely, as if weighing an internal judgment.
“I have no desire to expand my territory,” Verner replied.
Blaine met Rinka’s gaze. “If you want more land, take as much as you can west of the river. I want to see Castle Reach prosper and make sure my people can go about their business.”
“There is one more thing,” Blaine said. “It concerns magic.”
Rinka’s eyes narrowed to slits, and Tormod straightened. Verner shifted in his chair. “What about magic?” Rinka demanded.
“You’re the one who brought the magic back, aren’t you?” Verner asked, drumming his fingers on the table. “It’s fixed.”
“No.” Everyone turned to look at Tormod. “Not like it was.”
Tormod glared at Blaine. “The magic isn’t right. It’s… broken, unpredictable. We’ve lost two of our mages when they tried to use the power. One of them went mad. The other”—he paused and took a deep breath—“the other burned to death. The fire came from inside him. From magic.”
“We know,” Blaine said. “I was going to warn you—and offer an alternative.”
“I’ve never held much with magic,” Verner said. “Didn’t care for battle mages before the Meroven War, and a great deal less since then. But I understand that an army needs every weapon it can get.”
Blaine nodded. “We’re up against a group of mages who were quite powerful before the Great Fire, and who have plans, I believe, to become powerful again. Their leader, Vigus Quintrel, wants power.”
“Magical power?” Rinka asked. The tilt of her head revealed her distrust.
Blaine shook his head. “Quintrel sees a world where mages are in control.”
Rinka sniffed. “Wouldn’t it help if his magic actually worked?”
Blaine shrugged. “We don’t know whether the new magic is really still broken, or just changed into something different from what it was before. Sooner or later someone will figure out how to fix it, or how to use what it’s become. Quintrel will use those mages against us.”
“What do you want from us?” Tormod challenged.
“Information,” Blaine replied. “If your mages find and use magical objects, share what happens. If you get the magic to work, tell us. We’re going to need to ally our magical forces the same way we ally our troops.”
Rinka and Tormod conferred quietly. Verner was silent for a moment. Finally, Verner looked up.
“I think we should go farther,” Verner said. He looked from Blaine to Rinka. “Right now, our mages are experimenting. Some of those experiments won’t turn out well. If our mages are working separately, and an idea doesn’t work, three mages could die, one in each group. They have no way to share information.”
He leaned forward. “But if they work together—at least until they figure this all out—then the bad experiments take a lesser toll. The good experiments get shared. Once they understand what they’re dealing with, our mages come back to their own territories, to protect our holdings.”
Blaine nodded. “I like that. The mages would also know each other’s power, which would make it easier if they had to work together against a common threat.”
“Exactly.” Verner leaned back, pleased with his contribution, as if daring Tormod to object.
“The mages in this central location become hostages of a sort,” Tormod said. “Each group, under the eye of the others, within the reach of each warlord, just in case.” He gave a cold smile. “In the last war, the mages created a weapon they couldn’t control. This time, we make sure they have more… supervision.”
“Then, are we agreed to this alliance?” Blaine asked, looking to the others in turn.
Rinka and Tormod conferred quietly for a moment, while Verner appeared deep in thought.
Verner was the first to break the silence. “I’m in.”
Rinka and Tormod ended their whispered discussion and exchanged a final glance. Rinka met Blaine’s gaze. “We will ally with you.”
Just then they heard hurried footsteps on the stone stairs. The Solveigs’ bodyguards moved closer protectively, as did Verner’s soldiers, but Piran and Kestel moved toward the stairs as Niklas hurried toward them.
“My lords,” Niklas said with a hurried bow. “A large force is moving toward us from the north. We think it’s Rostivan. I hope you’ve worked out your differences, because within a candlemark, we’ll be under attack.”
CHAPTER
NINE
HOW DO WE KNOW YOUR PEOPLE DIDN’T STAGE this attack?” Rinka demanded.
Niklas fixed Rinka with a glare. “We don’t control the lands north of this point. Rostivan’s the one I’d guess is behind it.”
“Perhaps our time is best spent preparing for defense,” Verner suggested acerbically.
“It’s also the best way to prove our intent is firm,” Blaine said. “Do we stand together against the threat?”
“Time’s wasting,” Piran broke in. “Let’s kill them firs
t and figure out why they came later.”
Tormod gave an appreciative grin. “I like how you think.”
Blaine looked to Verner and Rinka. “Let’s make sure our generals are working together on this. It’s likely our enemies are going to use this as a test. Will you introduce Niklas to your generals and authorize them to work with him on defense?”
Rinka and Tormod exchanged a few whispered words. Rinka looked up. “Under whose command?”
Blaine forced down his frustration. “If the commanders agree on a strategy, they can each command their own troops.”
Verner stared at Niklas for a moment as if taking his measure. “I agree. And I’ll take you to my general right now,” he said, giving Rinka a look as if to force her agreement.
“Come to our camp when you finish,” Rinka said, meeting Verner’s stare like a challenge. “We will make sure our general cooperates.”
It did not take long for the ruins of the Citadel to become a battleground.
“The next time you set up a warlord council, pick a place we can actually defend.” Piran kicked the dead soldier’s body clear of his sword. Blaine rolled the headless corpse of another enemy fighter out of his way, and looked around the battlefield to see where they could jump back into the fray.
“Defensible sites tend to make treachery easier as well,” Blaine retorted. “More cover, more places for someone to hide.” With a nod, he indicated a knot of fighting where three of his soldiers were barely holding their own against four of the enemy, suggesting that was where they were needed next.
Piran gave a loud, off-key war cry that startled the rival warlord’s fighters, and charged at a dead run, with Blaine only a step behind. Out of the corner of his eye, Blaine could see Kestel slipping through the lines, intent on her prey. Although she was an accomplished sword fighter, Kestel preferred to send a throwing knife into an enemy soldier’s back, or finish off the enemy’s dying and wounded fighters with a slash to the throat.
War of Shadows: Book Three of the Ascendant Kingdoms Saga Page 14
