The Magic Council (The Herezoth Trilogy)

by Grefer, Victoria

  Bennie said, “Zac discussed it with Kora and me, at Kansten’s birthday party.”

  The king said, “You wanted Zacry on the council, Vane.”

  “And he didn’t want to join. He had damn good reasons that only got stronger when Joslyn got pregnant again. The Giver’s flute! Why did you two do this?”

  “So you wouldn’t take the full brunt of the backlash,” Rexson conceded. “Zacry proposed it, and I was glad to go along.”

  “It’ll just discredit him, discredit his essays. He should live here if he’s serving on that council. As for you, it’s clearly renewed the rumors about you and Kora.”

  The queen said, “That doesn’t matter. Those rumors have persisted for years and never proven dangerous. If people are talking of Rexson and a sorceress far removed from here instead of wondering whether you intend to slaughter him like your uncle did his father, it’s for the better.”

  Vane insisted, “I should have known about this.”

  Rexson said, “I knew how you’d react.”

  August lowered her hand from her hair, which she had twisted around a finger. “It does make sense to divide the public focus between you and Zacry and the king, doesn’t it?”

  Bennie said, “Zac was glad to do it, and he’d do it again. Thank him when you see him next, and then forget it.”

  Vane saw Zacry much sooner than he was expecting. The sorcerer had arranged with the king to transport for copies of the Yangerton papers, and he walked into the library at that moment. He wore one of Gratton’s uniforms.

  “You….” said Vane. His voice was shaking. “You conniving….” And he hugged Zacry as though he were truly an older brother.

  “Oh, what do the papers say?” August cried.

  She grabbed the Yangerton Gazette, which was much more favorable to the king and his point of view than the Podrar Bugle had been. It made no reference at all to Kora, and none to Zalski when it printed the king’s response to questions about the Duke of Ingleton.

  The Yangerton Weekly took a different tone. Its account was accurate, and fair by all measures, but its editors chose to focus on the council’s potential to cause public alarm; after all, a group of such powerful individuals could destabilize the government with ease. It mentioned conspiracy theories stating Rexson had fathered Kora’s children, noted people would not take well to Zacry Porteg’s continued residence in Traigland, and questioned the Duke of Ingleton’s credentials to work with the council at all, given his youth as well as the unease his relation to Zalski would cause.

  Carson Amison might be in Podrar at the moment, but would have copies of the Yangerton articles awaiting him at his manor when he returned. He was one of the Weekly’s major donors. It could not operate without him, which was one of the reasons the king chose it for his interview. Best not to snub Amison by refusing his newsletter this story. Best to coddle the man with evidence that the crown’s choice to found this council was not out of a desire to antagonize him. Vane’s head spun at the thought of Amison reading the Weekly’s report, but he pushed the contemplation aside, telling himself there was nothing he could do to prevent the duke smirking in approbation at the article’s tone.

  Those in the library passed the newspapers around, and no one said much besides Bendelof and August, who distanced themselves to whisper near the fireplace. Vane assumed August was asking about that discussion back in Traigland, when Zacry had decided to join the council after all, and let the women have their privacy. The very thought of what Zacry had done, especially his hiding it from Vane, made Vane feel rather like throwing up, and he wanted nothing less than to open his mouth to speak.

  “None of it’s as dreadful as it could have been,” said Gracia.

  “Perhaps,” Zacry agreed. “The Weekly could have taken a more positive angle. They seem to want the council to implode.”

  “They won’t be the only ones,” said Rexson.

  Gracia retrieved a waking Melly, stroked her hair to coax her back to sleep. “We should have sent the children to my mother,” she told her husband.

  “That would only send the message we’re afraid, when we’ve no reason to fear a thing. It would contradict any confidence in the project that comes through in the articles, a project that’s supposedly been mine from the start. No, it’s far better the children remain and that you bring them into the Hall tonight, after dinner.” Gracia nodded, and Rexson emphasized, “I’d never have kept them here if there were any danger. Just stay with them like we discussed.”

  Vane felt even more nauseated at that, sick with a guilt that must have shown on his face, because Zacry clapped him on the back and Rexson said, “You look like you’re the one responsible for the council in the first place. Chin up. I’d swear you were Dorane in disguise, if the man had a conscience and we hadn’t stripped his magic.”

  “You two,” said Vane, “you really shouldn’t have….”

  Zacry told him, “It’s done.”

  “I wouldn’t have come to court if I’d known you’d do this against your will, Zac.”

  “That’s why I didn’t tell you. You needed to take up your title, for yourself. When the council arose to complicate things…. Look, it’s done.”

  Vane nodded. All he could think to say to express his gratitude was, “In any case, it’s good to see you.”

  “Likewise,” Zacry told him.

  The morning wore on. Vane went over to join August and Bendelof until the boys woke. They all breakfasted on fruit and boiled eggs, then Neslan and Valkin read books while Hune played with his favorite dog, a hunting beagle. None of the boys paid the adults the slightest mind, but soon grew restless, so August set herself to occupying them while Bennie was delighted to play with Melly. Zacry left and returned with no news to bring, which was good news. More time passed. After what seemed like a day and a night to follow, Gratton appeared just as Zacry was preparing to go out again, and told the king, “There are crowds now, but they aren’t large: forty or so people outside the gate. As long as we let them stay there, I don’t wager they’ll cause more trouble than a lot of yelling. They’ve been there close to an hour.”

  The children glanced up at the word yelling, but returned to their playing when their father directed them. August ran over and Bennie followed, making her way to Gratton, who rested a hand on her shoulder.

  “Forty?” said Gracia. “Are they organized?”

  “Seem to be. Among other things, they’re yelling about ‘Magic Menace,’ an anti-magic group they belong to. They’re protesting the council, according to the statutes and zoning the king set up years ago for demonstrations. They seem more interested in attracting passersby to their cause than anything else, and their luck’s not good.”

  “Make sure they’re not provoked, Gratton.”

  “With all due respect, Your Majesty, your guard is not that foolish.”

  “You’ll inform me at once if conditions deteriorate.”

  “Duly noted—but for now, that seems unlikely. Reports say there’s a larger group outside Oakdowns, but also acting peacefully.”

  Vane finally found his voice. It came out in a croak. “How large exactly?”

  “A hundred.”

  Ingleton seemed unable to say anything more, so Rexson asked on his behalf, “Are they chanting or yelling anything of note?”

  “Not a word. They’re holding great strips of cloth with X’s painted on them.”

  “Intimidation tactics,” said Zacry. He looked to a clammy Vane. “They don’t want you on the council, if there has to be one. Figure one sorcerer’s plenty. You’ve got to hand it to them though, they’re courageous. You could walk out your manor any time and blow them all to smithereens. So don’t let them get to you. They only have power if they get to you.”

  Rexson asked, “How long ago were the papers distributed?”

  “The same time as every morning,” said Bennie. “The same time we all got here, around six. It’s eleven now.”

  “Five hours,” s
aid the king. He shook his head. “Five hours to organize like this.”

  “It’s impressive,” Zacry admitted. “And if this is the worst of it, we’ll be fine.”

  Gracia told her husband, “The boys won’t be contained much longer. I’ll take them to my antechamber, for a change of scene.”

  Rexson nodded. “Stay with them, Gracia, and bar the door. Don’t you or they go elsewhere. I want to know where you are. And if you don’t mind, see lunch is brought to you as well as here.”

  “I can stop by the kitchens,” offered Gratton.

  Bendelof sent a concerned look at Vane, and told her husband, “Send a doctor to check on Vane’s aunt, if you can. And tell him to come here afterward.”

  Vane argued, “I don’t need a doctor, Bennie.”

  “You could use one, I think. You need a mixture for nerves before that dinner tonight.”

  Rexson dismissed Gratton, and the guardsman departed with a squeeze of Bennie’s shoulder. Gracia followed with her children, and when August made to join her, to take Melly, the queen directed her to stay with Vane, who was grayer now than pale and clearly disturbed by Gratton’s tidings. August was so touched she had to mouth her thanks.

  With the boys gone the library felt quiet to all, and Vane withdrew with August to a far corner of the room. Zacry and Rexson started after them, to speak with the duke, but Bendelof held them back. She whispered, “He needs her right now, not us.”

  Out of earshot of the others, August said, “You’re not going home tonight, are you?”

  “I don’t mind taking risks when I have to, but I’m not suicidal. I’m staying here.”

  “In the Palace? Oh, good! Then you can stop by after dinner? Tell me how things go?”

  Vane’s heart was racing. He said, “August, I can’t do this. My aunt’s made herself sick she’s worrying so much, and those people outside Oakdowns…. Over a hundred. A hundred!”

  “It seems like a lot,” said August. “But Val, there are thousands in Podrar, aren’t there? If you think of it like that….”

  “I don’t belong in the capital. I would go somewhere else, anywhere, but it’s too late for that. I have to go to that dinner tonight, and act as though none of this has thrown me out of whack, and put up with Amison’s taunts, because the Giver only knows what he’ll say about the articles and the protests, and I just…. I’m so damn tired of this.”

  “I know you are.” August took his hand.

  “I guess I should hope all Amison does is taunt. He’ll likely threaten. He’s been out to subvert me since we met.”

  “Believe me, you’ll make it through. And you won’t be alone. I know I can’t be with you through all that charading tonight, but your parents will be. You’re amazingly strong, and that grit comes from them, I know it does. It’s the reason I trust you so much. Val, I love you something awful.”

  “I love you too,” he told her. They had never said those words before. August in particular had refrained because she thought they might complicate matters, but now, something told her, was the time, and Vane’s smile assured her that was indeed the case. He seemed more secure, less antsy; even his complexion improved a bit.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Of Motherhood and Marriage

  The afternoon was torturously slow in passing. Gratton returned to the library with periodic updates: the crowd outside the Palace tripled, and that at the gates of Oakdowns grew four times in size, but that was the worst of the news. The protesters seemed satisfied to demonstrate their numbers within the bounds of law, not turning violent. The king went to his office to speak once more with reporters, responding to the day’s developments. Vane was adamant he would make no comment and would allow his interview for the council in two months’ time to speak for him.

  That evening at dinner, Vane sat beside Thad and Carlina. He felt overwhelmed and angry, as well as exhausted from the effort required merely to keep his composure. The stares and whispers from his peers, which had died down weeks ago, returned with greater force than ever over wine and cheese and bread to start. Partridge in a cream sauce followed as a main course, during which the women did not bother to dissimulate their interest, and even Thad and Carlina acted awkwardly, wishing to broach the topic of the day but hesitant to do so. At least Thad’s interest was more for Vane’s welfare than it was morbid curiosity. Carlina’s, Vane knew, was quite the opposite, and she was the reason he spoke no word about the council, at least for a while. He would much rather be sitting with Hayden and Greller, and as he sought their table on the other side of the Hall, he asked Thad, “Why does Hayden’s wife never come to these things? They’ve been married, what, three months now?”

  Carlina laughed. “Tara Grissner? She wouldn’t dare, would she? She’s a seamstress’s daughter, and she knows her place.” The count’s daughter shook her head. “I still can’t believe Hayden married that woman. What was he thinking? I can tell you, I thought I’d never see a bigger scandal.” And Carlina’s cheeks flushed red as she realized how poorly she had spoken, considering the news of the hour. “I suppose it’s not that ghastly after all. I mean, Hayden Grissner’s blood’s not exactly refined.”

  Vane said dryly, “I respect Hayden. And I think Tara’s a doll.”

  Carlina insisted, “She’s utterly uncouth. Have you met her, Ingleton? Actually spoken to her?”

  Vane did not trust himself to respond. Thad said, “Of course he has, Dear. His mother was in the Crimson League with Hayden, wasn’t she?”

  “That’s right,” said Carlina. She lowered a glass she was holding and apologized to Vane. “I always forget about your mother. I never met her, not once—or if I did, I would have been an infant—and well, it’s only natural that he should come up more in conversation about your family than she. Twins, they were? But of course, your mother and the Crimson League….” The last two words left her mouth in close to a whisper. “The one thing I do hear is she was the most elegant woman imaginable. Surely you wouldn’t give her grandchildren from a common thing like Tara? When you’re slightly more… established, let’s say, you really should speak with me about your marriage prospects. The Duke of Partsvale’s daughter is a dear friend, a true charm. You two would get on exceedingly well. Or, perhaps a lady from the south? An earl down there has two or three lovely girls.”

  “Now is not the time, Dear,” said Thad, with an apologetic look at Vane.

  “Of course it’s not. I said once things are more established, didn’t I?”

  Vane got Carlina talking about her own wedding, so he could let his thoughts wander with no more than the occasional nod or monosyllable. Eventually, everyone moved to the vestibule of the Palace to socialize and hear music before dessert. The space was domed, and floored with marble, and violinists tuned their instruments beneath an elaborate winding staircase in preparation to serenade the king’s guests. Servants with trays were offering more wine, and Vane, who had felt too sick to drink anything but water with dinner, grabbed a glass with gusto. Carlina, thank all that was holy, slipped away to give the other women details about the dress she was to be married in, and Thad told Ingleton, “Drink something, by God. I can’t imagine the day you’ve had.”

  “I’d rather not discuss it.”

  “Carlina did nothing to make this more pleasant, I’m sure. My apologies.”

  “Why are you marrying her, Thad?”

  “You wouldn’t be asking that if you’d spent half the time around these women I’ve clocked in. She’s not nearly as frivolous as most of them. Selection’s limited if you don’t want to lose an inheritance espousing a commoner.” And Thad turned red. “You won’t have that worry, of course, but you wouldn’t marry outside nobility regardless. My God, all you need is that scandal on top of this council business. Can you imagine?” Thad laughed and clapped Vane on the shoulder. Ingleton was not amused.

  “I don’t want to discuss the council,” he insisted. That option, however, was not left to him. Carson Amison chose that moment t
o approach with marked swagger and with dullness in his eyes, both attributable to wine.

  “I’m surprised to see you, Ingleton. However did you manage to leave Oakdowns?”

  Vane was in no mood to play games. “I left at four a.m. His Majesty was kind enough to give me advance notice before his interviews, so that I could make proper arrangements for my servants.”

  “So you’ve known for a day or two about the king’s latest enterprise. A shame you have to endure all this because of his nonsensical notions, as you surely won’t be joining. Your father’s line has always sat on the Financial Council. I should tell you, my carriage passed Oakdowns en route to the Palace, and I viewed that little demonstration outside your property lines.” The man could hardly contain the glee in his voice. “Silence can speak volumes, can it not?”

  “Not that it’s any concern of yours, but I haven’t decided which council I’ll join,” Vane lied. “As for the demonstrators….”

  Thad reasoned, “I’d be tempted to join the Magic Council just to spit in their faces.” Amison’s glee vanished in an instant. His gaze went from blank to icy, and his swagger turned to a sneer.

  “I would do no such thing,” he told Vane.

  Vane responded, “I don’t recall asking your counsel, Amison. With all due respect.”

  “That’s not counsel in the slightest, with no respect at all. It’s a warning, and a plain one. Given your blood, you belong nowhere near that council or the king’s newfound lunacy about the magicked. I will personally see you destroyed if you take part. The kingdom does not need your uncle’s nephew in such a post as a constant reminder….”

  “Oh, come off it,” said Vane. “I know exactly what you don’t want the kingdom recalling. You don’t want it to remember how in the midst of turmoil, you let Zalski use your wedding to create the illusion of stability. You’d like people to forget you were comfortable paying social calls to the dictator; that you were here of all places the day he fell; that you saw the rightful king alive, and exerted not an ounce of energy in his aid. Make no mistake, I don’t care a jot about your prospects or reputation. Should I decide to sit on the newest council, I’ll do so without a thought for the mob outside my estate and even less consideration for you.”