Alya and I stayed long enough to see Anguin announce his engagement and enjoy the banquet arranged for the occasion, but then we left, quickly.
No doubt I could have been of some use, but Pentandra had things well in-hand. In all honesty, I was troubled at the thought of being in such a volatile situation as a revolution with a woman who still looked suspiciously at spoons. We returned to Sevendor that evening, after the gala in Falas, but I eagerly kept pace with the news from my friends and allies in Alshar. It was fascinating, from a political perspective.
Much of Anguin’s work had been done for him. While Gatina had been plotting the uprising, her parents had wisely been preparing for the aftermath, understanding that revolutions were about more than mere riots and slogans.
There was a lot of anxious moments as the Wilderlands court assumed power in the metropolitan Falas. Though Anguin had a functioning court in Vorone, it was ill-suited for the complexities of managing a population fifty times greater than the Wilderlands. Hance and his family had therefore thoughtfully selected candidates for deputy positions who would serve for a year, until Anguin could find more permanent replacements.
The problem of the fleet was solved by ultimately duplicity. Though the Sea Lords were the oft the first to rebel against landborn rulers, they also needed their havens to resupply their corsairs. Most of the Sea Lords had substantial holdings along the Bay of Enultramar – holdings that Anguin seized while they were away. That included the Sea Tower that guarded the only safe approach through the hazardous shoals of Sinbar.
Much credit goes to the loyal House Kannanatus of Sangsara. The Sea Lords there had quickly seized the Sea Tower, with Lord Hance’s guidance, and quickly found themselves in possession of a strategic fortress no less important than Getamor. The enterprising Viscount of Sangsara, seeking credit and favor from the ascendant ducal house, enacted a plan to subdue the rebel fleet.
As the ships approached the mighty Sea Tower, the same man who had passed them through in the Spring allowed them to return. Of course, they didn’t realize he had turned his cloak and come out in support of Anguin, once he realized which way the tides were flowing.
As he admitted each Alshari ship through the straights and directed it to a port to unload and dispose of their loot and human cargo, he ensured that the port in question was ready to receive them. Once the ships were docked, they were swarmed with loyalists who took control of them and freed their captives. The captains and officers were imprisoned.
At some point, word got out to the fleet that Anguin was in charge, not the Count of Arangalan. That caused a number of independent pirates and Farisi ships to flee the straights before they could be captured and held for justice.
Luckily for them, the Censors holding Farise were quite open to a return of the Farisi fleet. The native Alshari Sea Lords who feared Anguin’s justice the most left with them. When word of the general amnesty the Orphan Duke was extending to the fleet, many relented and returned.
It took weeks for the final pockets of resistance to fall, either through negotiation or force of arms. Count Salgo in particular led the loyalist forces in the few battles that resulted, his victories earning him a generous reward and the confiscated County of Rhemes from his grateful sovereign. Anguin spent months contending with the mess the interregnum left for him – there had not been ducal authority to rely upon for more than five years, since his father had taken his family on an unassuming trip to the Summer Capital. Now that ducal authority was returned, it was requiring almost all of Anguin’s time and attention to administer it.
If the Restoration was a welcomed surprise to the court of Alshar, it was a shock to the court of Castal – and the Royal Court. For one thing, it put Tavard in an even more negative light when Anguin sent a relief force to his men in Maidenspool. Not to rescue them, but to bring them food and additional supplies.
I learned, later, that rather than re-conquer the marginal domain himself, as the lord of the town was a rebel, Anguin confiscated the holding and gifted Maidenspool to Tavard at Yule. As it turned out, that was the only holding House Bimin had in Alshar, now.
The terms of Rardine’s dowry gave nearly every parcel of land in southern Alshar claimed by House Bimin back to House Terine. That included some prime estates and incredibly productive lands, lands that Grendine had coveted since she was a girl. To lose all of that in return for Maidenspool was a subtle insult. Tavard, by all accounts, was not amused by the gift. He appointed his lackluster former Master of Waves the tenant lord as a punishment.
Indeed, Tavard was reportedly furious at the entire affair. He protested directly to his father about Anguin’s actions, without being able to articulate exactly how his cousin managed to violate the law by re-assuming control of lands that were his by right. Rard might have been sympathetic to his son’s case – but the lawbrothers were not. Anguin had every right to reclaim his patrimony, they informed him, without his King’s permission.
By late autumn, Anguin had relocated the majority of his court to Falas, secure in his holding of the south. He appointed Count Marcadine interim regent for the northern capital and placed him in command of the 3rd Alshari Commando, but the governance of the Wilderlands was in transition anyway, so it was an opportune time for the court to go south. After the Wilderlands, the cosmopolitan nature of the southern capital must have been overwhelming.
Duke Anguin established a full governing court at the palace within weeks, and by Yule reunited Alshar was functioning under the banner of the Anchor and Antlers, once again. I was gratified to see Anguin and Rardine take their administration seriously. Beginning with the execution of the Counts of Rhemes and Erona, the administration of justice to the rebels was swift and terrible. But that was not the limit of his governance. Indeed, Anguin saw the opportunity of the Restoration to correct many long-standing injustices in his father’s policies, starting with the toleration of slavery in any capacity.
He punished many who had flouted the law and hid behind their connections to the Five Counts by confiscation, imprisonment, and sentencing to various terms in the Iron Band. In fact, after the Restoration the Iron Band grew enormously as rebels chose service in the Wilderlands. The Iron Ring around the Penumbra grew as new towers and fortifications were built and staffed.
The thousands of slaves taken in the previous years were freed by ducal edict, and Anguin deployed an army of lawbrothers to enforce any conflicts in favor of the enslaved. In some cases, he paid for the difference himself to settle a case, out of confiscated funds. Repatriation took much longer, of course, but once slavery was no longer permitted in Alshar, the agricultural economy began to straighten out.
A few large confiscated estates were used to house those unfairly taken, and some vegan to make their way home. Once again caravans began to cross Getamor as overland trade resumed with the rest of the Five Duchies.
There were other relocations that were less desperate. Pentandra and Arborn took residence in the Tower of Sorcery, traditional palace of the Court Wizard, where they could raise their three new daughters in security while the new government coalesced. Lord Hance and his family largely retired from public life and became quiet counsellors of the new regime as the remnants of the old were hunted down. House Furtius began a close working relationship with Princess Rardine and her nascent intelligence service, first rooting out the last of the rebels and then proceeding to establish an internal state security apparatus.
In general, the folk of Alshar, both north and south, were thrilled with Anguin’s return after such a contentious period. And while Rardine was not well-loved, she never – publicly – took issue with those who still associated her with the murder of Enora and Lenguin. She ran her court with dignity and decorum, quickly adopting Alshari styles of dress and participating in the social life of the capital with enthusiasm, in preparation of the coming wedding.
As for my former apprentices, Rondal was deeply involved in the administration of justice to the rebels and the
re-ordering of Enultramar after the Restoration, helping his future in-laws with adept use of magic and wisdom as he served his duke. Tyndal, on the other hand, largely remained in the north, haunting Vorone and Vanador. He lent his aid to Marcadine and the other Wilderlords to help keep the Wilderlands functioning through the winter after the court left the capital.
Both lads managed to establish new chapterhouses of the Estasi Order in Alshar, one at Timberwatch and one at an estate outside of Falas. There were enough new knights to staff both, after Olum Seheri. Astyral and Gydion were installed as the barons of their respective lands, and began the consolidation of Anguin’s power base in Gilmora. And the road between Vorone and Falas was once again open, patrolled by the Duke’s Men every inch of the way.
It was more revolution than restoration, but thanks to Gatina’s completely unanticipated attack and fiendishly complex plans, Anguin regained in a season what dukes, wizards, and gods had all considered a work for generations.
Never underestimate what a girl will go through to impress a boy
I enjoyed my time with my family as winter approached. While there were still plenty of dangers to consider, I had what was most important to me, and I spent every moment I could cherishing it. Alya continued to improve, though in strange fits and starts, and she even warmed up to the idea of being a mother, again. At a certain point, with little encouragement, she resumed being a wife, again, too.
That was an interesting experience. And no, I don’t want to speak of it. Some things should remain private.
Much of my time was spent preparing for the new Beryen Council. It was taking more time to organize than I preferred, and the date of our meeting had been delayed twice, but then there were a lot of things going on in a lot of theaters. For my part, I was to name the three human magi representatives. That would be me, Pentandra, and Terleman.
But I was also preparing a number of proposals of action for the council to consider. Of highest priority was searching for the Aronin’s daughter and her ancient arsenal – to keep Korbal from gaining it, if possible. Scouting the new situation within the Penumbra was also of import – since the goblins’ civil war, there might be opportunities for us to exploit.
And, of course, the dragon issue was always pressing – even more so, now that I had two eggs in my possession. I was curious how the Alka Alon would react to that news.
While I was sketching out some of the details, I was interrupted in my workshop by an unexpected visitor: Sir Festaran. He had finally returned from his errantry, and wished to resume his position as assistant castellan.
The lad looked tired – more, he looked no more a lad. There was a fresh scar above his left eyebrow and a maturity in his eye that had been missing, before. He’d also started to grow a beard, though the results were as yet ambivalent.
“So, how fared your errantry?” I asked, after I poured wine and sent word to Sire Cei.
“Well,” he admitted, “though not always in the ways I expected. There were bandits. And rascals. I fought a wicked knight who was oppressing his peasants – that was interesting,” he said, drumming his fingers. “I hired on as a mercenary for two weeks during a private war, and led a rather successful raid,” he said, without sounding terribly happy about it. “All in all, a good summer,” he decided. “But I want to go back to work I know best. I am most satisfied by serving Sevendor, and you, my lord,” he said, resolutely. “I love my lands. I love my home. As engaging as errantry is, I find I am not restless enough to sustain it.”
“And that . . . other matter?” I asked, prodding. “What of it?”
“What of it?” he asked. “I think I shall see how things lie between us, for a while. As delightful a companion as Dara is, she is not the only woman in the world. And I’ve seen what happens when commitment is hastily made . . . and quickly regretted.”
“You think you would regret marrying Dara?” I asked, surprised.
“Perhaps, perhaps not. But the matter is important enough to warrant more study, don’t you think?”
“That is for you to decide,” I chuckled. “You seem to have your own head for the matter. I merely wished that you take a moment to consider, before starting a chain of events that you both might regret. Yes, you are welcome to resume your duties,” I acknowledged, “and may return to your old quarters at your convenience. I had Cei keep them empty, on the chance you might return.”
“It might be the only thing familiar about Sevendor, now,” he chuckled, shyly. “I go away for a few months, and come back to find the pond empty, the mill and bathhouse gone, Brestal Tower burned, and a dragon corpse being butchered in the fields. Thank goodness I sought adventure!”
“You missed a lot,” I agreed, “including the return of Alya, in some small way. But it’s the same old Sevendor: city of enchantment, vale of magic, bakery of the gods. It survived a dragon attack, a war with the Warbird, and Tyndal and Rondal. With your help, it might survive a few more years.”
That night, just before bed, the inevitable happened when Dara showed up at the door of Spellmonger’s Hall, an unhappy expression on her face.
“You did it again!” she said, her face screwed up in anguish. “Festaran’s back!”
“I swear I had nothing to do with that,” I promised. “But I thought you wanted him back?”
“He’s back . . . but he’s changed his mind,” she said, miserably. “I went to see him, and kept expecting him to . . . to ask me something, and he didn’t!”
“Well, I thought you didn’t want him to ask,” I pointed out. “You were a working woman, remember? No time for marriage and such?”
“Not now,” she snorted, “but I never said I wanted to be a nun for the rest of my life. Only when I went to see Fes, he was just . . . polite. Just polite. Not like the old Fes, at all,” she pouted.
“Meaning, he didn’t sprawl at your feet and beg for your affection?” I asked, wryly.
“Meaning he was distant and cordial, not warm and affectionate,” she huffed, crossing her arms. “Then he . . . he told me about his adventures in errantry, this summer,” she said, sullenly. “He was in a few fights. And there were girls,” she said, softly.
“He’s a handsome knight,” I pointed out. “And he’s a man of good character. That’s bound to attract attention from the maidens.”
That observation didn’t soothe her. “That doesn’t mean he should pay attention to them!” she said, savagely. “Not if he was . . . if he was thinking about . . .”
“Dara, in the lad’s defense, you haven’t been particularly clear about your feelings,” I pointed out.
“It would be bloody helpful if I knew what they actually were!” she snarled. “Ishi’s tits, Master, why is it I can master the intricacies of Imperial magic, teach myself how to be a falconer and then a Sky Rider, lead troops into battle and run my estate . . . yet I can’t seem to master the simplest things about boys?”
“Perhaps because you view them as boys, Dara,” I said, gently. “They are men. They risk their lives and look to their future – a future that is all too brief. They do not have the patience to await you to make some decision. And yes, when you do not make your feelings known, you give them every right to consider another course of action.”
“I made my feelings known to Gareth,” she pointed out. “Look how that turned out! When I finally caught up with him in the Wilderlands, after the battle, he didn’t want to exchange two words with me!”
“Was he rude?”
“No, but . . . he acted as if we’d never . . . like I was a . . . he treated me worse than a stranger,” she said, hanging her head. “All I ever told him was that I was not attracted to him. That I didn’t want to marry him. Not that I rejected his friendship.”
“Yet he felt that rejection keenly enough to relocate to an entirely different duchy, and distance himself from the source of the pain,” I observed. “His heart was set for you, Dara – that isn’t your fault. But him seeking solace from his wound, that isn�
�t his fault, either.”
“He didn’t even ask about Frightful,” she said, a tear running down her cheek. “He acted like I was just some . . . regular old military commander, not an old friend.”
“It sounds like he isn’t willing to be your friend, anymore.”
“You want to know what’s worse?” she sniffed. “Nattia thinks I was an ass for treating him that way. Which has nothing to do with my leadership,” she added, defiantly. “But she’s so upset she took her entire wing to the Wilderlands. Permanently.”
“I heard. She accepted Duke Anguin’s standing invitation. And most of her Riders are Alshari. They are needed there,” I pointed out. “And if she was divisive to your command . . .”
“Well, she took Gareth’s side,” she continued. “So good riddance! Let her go! I hope they’ll be very happy together, up in the cold, dark north!” Then a horrific thought occurred to her. “Flame and ash! Do you think they’re . . . they’re . . .?”
“Dara, such speculation does you no good,” I said, as soothingly as I could without sounding too patronizing. “I wish I had better answers for you. I know Gareth was unhappy with your answer, so he moved along. Festaran was unsure of your answer, so he postponed asking the question . . . because he had no indication of what your feelings are.”
“How can I know what my feelings are when I don’t have any control?” she demanded. “I can’t entertain such things when I’m . . . I’m apprenticed!” she said, looking at me accusingly.
“Ah. As for that, it is a matter that can be rectified. I have already discussed it with Master Thinradel, and when we go to the palace for Yule he will have your examinations prepared for you. Both written and practical. Master Loiko will administer them.”
Necromancer: Book Ten Of The Spellmonger Series Page 117
