Wrath of the Usurper (The Eoriel Saga Book 2)

by Kal Spriggs

  “I'll do so, my Lord,” Kerrel said. The harsh expression on her face suggested that she would make it very clear to Darkbit just how much authority he'd given her. “I'm concerned how much leeway I'll have to settle things down here in the south. There may be some requests, on their end, about some of our people.” Hector didn't miss the emphasis she put on that, it was a subtle thing, but he caught it anyway. She was trying to show that, whatever her personal feelings, she wouldn't make such a concession lightly.

  “You want to know if you can throw Darkbit to the rebels?” Hector asked, though he already knew the answer to that.

  “Grel comes more directly to mind, but Darkbit and probably some of his captains as well,” Kerrel said. “The rumors we're getting... it's already grown ugly down here. There are rumors of refugee camps in the Tucola Forest having been sacked.”

  Hector scowled at that. It did, unfortunately, sound like Grel. He had known the man had a dark streak, but he had grown darker, more vicious in his actions over the past few cycles. Still, Grel knew a great deal about Hector's secrets, just as Covle did. Hector couldn't discount the possibility that one or both of them might seek to make a deal with the rebels if he betrayed them. Or I could just have them killed if it comes down to it, he thought. He met Kerrel's eyes, “Neither of them can be turned over... but I'd be willing to give them a trial, execute them, even, if it comes down to it.” In reality, he'd have them quietly executed and not waste time on a show trial. He had no illusions about the innocence of either man... or that the world would be a better place without them, but they were useful to him and they would be difficult to replace. “Any of the others they might want we can work with... but those kinds of concessions had better involve rebels laying down arms. Oh, and you are off the table, of course.”

  She nodded, but he saw some hesitance in that response. Clearly she didn't entirely agree with his decision. Whether that was because he was willing to give up some of his mercenaries or because he wasn't willing to give up Grel or Covle Darkbit to justice, he couldn't guess. Either way, she chose to accept it an move on, which was one thing he valued most about her: she knew when to argue and when to take orders. If only she didn't push me quite as much as she does, Hector thought, I might agree with her a bit more. It was just that she was so damned idealistic at times, especially given how she thought he should go about protecting his lands. Had the threat of the Armen been less, he would have agreed with her, but there were some things that he felt were worthwhile to get ones hands dirty over, and the survival of his culture and people was at the top of that list.

  “Well, my Lord,” Kerrel said, “If that's all, we've got a long day's journey tomorrow. There's no good place for us to stop until we clear the Tucola Forest, so we're making an early start of it. Your mother's carriage does slow us down, somewhat.” He heard the bitterness in her voice, but while he understood that, he also knew just how valuable his mother's presence could be if the southern nobles came to the table.

  “Keep her safe,” he said, “And while she slows you down now, she'll be worth her weight in gold once she has the opportunity to weigh in on any discussions.” He saw her nod at that and he hesitated. “Take care of yourself, as well,” he added and allowed the tenderness he hid away from everyone else to show.

  “You too,” Kerrel said and cut the link.

  Hector leaned back and took a deep breath. He reached blindly for his wine goblet and sipped at the wine within while he tried to ignore how his hand trembled. He had very nearly lost her already, between the Vendakar trying to set her up and then when they'd betrayed him openly, she had led some five hundred cavalry against over five thousand infantry in order to save him. Against all expectations, she had actually survived that... and Hector had sent her south on an even more dangerous mission.

  She was the perfect candidate for the job, though. Her mix of rational decision-making and idealism meant that she would be able to both relate to the rebels and still keep his goals in her mind. The fact that she had a good reputation would mean that they would respect her and not see her as one of the occupiers, he hoped. If she wasn't so damned idealistic, he thought absently, I'd have put her in charge of the south and brought Covle Darkbit north.

  Once again, he was reminded of the irony in that he thought one of his hired mercenaries was too idealistic. Yet there was no other term for it, Kerrel's background and upbringing had a role, he well knew, but there was something about her that made even him want to try to be a better person. Not as much as I want to protect my people, he thought, with something akin to sadness. In a perfect world, he would be the man she wanted... but in the real world he had to do what was necessary.

  Even if that cost him not only the woman he loved, but his own soul.

  ***

  Commander Kerrel Flamehair

  Town of Upper Debber, Duchy of Masov

  20th of Paloom, Cycle 1000 Post Sundering

  Kerrel rubbed at her eyes in exhaustion as she paused outside the cellar door. She rubbed the chalk mark on it off with her hand before she rapped a pattern against it.

  A moment later, the door opened and a cloaked figure gestured for her to step inside.

  The low cellar looked, at first glance, like any other in the town. Kerrel's eyes, however, noticed the older stonework and she made out the figure of an eight-pointed star, laid out in the stones of the floor. Old courthouse, she thought, settled or sunk into the ground over time and then built over. It wasn't unusual, in itself, for many such ancient structures had been built over or simply scavenged for building materials.

  The four cloaked figures gathered in the room were unusual, especially the two wearing white cloaks, signs of their high rank within the Luciel Order. “Commander Flamehair, welcome to our Chapter of the Luciel Order. Thank you for meeting with us,” one of them said. “We've heard much of you, both from our brethren in the north and from other sources.”

  “Oh?” Kerrel asked. These 'other' sources that they mentioned made her feel more than a bit uncomfortable. Were they suggesting that people in general knew who she was or did they have spies in Hector's mercenaries, or what? The Luciel Order's goals and her own were almost identical, so it shouldn't worry her as much as it did, but all the same she felt uncertainty.

  “Don't worry, Commander, it's good things that we've heard... good work, that you've been doing,” the leader said. He had a deep voice, with a jovial tone to it that Kerrel found oddly relaxing. “Though I'm interested to hear what precise mission Lord Hector has sent you south to perform. We already know it is to make peace... but the terms of that peace are important to us.”

  Kerrel grimaced at that, “You seem very well informed.” It should assure her, but once again it made her stomach uneasy. Zabilla Nasrat, the head of the Luciel Order on the Lonely Isle, had concealed his identity from her and even pretended to hate her in his position as a Battalion Commander under Lord Hector. He had done all that in order to better watch her and work with her from behind the scenes, but it had still been a manipulation. That these two concealed themselves, along with their secretive sources, suggested they had as much or better reason to hide. Hector must be rubbing off on me, she thought, I'm getting paranoid, even about the people sworn to this cause.

  “Being well informed is essential in these times, as you well know yourself,” the second of the white-cloaked figures said, her voice sharp. Something about her seemed oddly familiar and Kerrel frowned as she tried to figure out what it was. “Perhaps you could answer our question and inform us.”

  “Lord Hector did, indeed, send me south to try to make peace,” Kerrel said. “I'm authorized to negotiate with the southern nobility and settle grievances with the commoners.” Negotiations with the nobility would be easier, she felt, especially given Miss Kail's involvement. Kerrel had a growing worry that the commoners would be the hardest to appease. It almost felt as if Covle Darkbit wanted to provoke a class war.

  The man spoke, “And how does he s
ee resolving the issue of Lady Katarina?”

  Kerrel grimaced, “I'm not entirely certain that is pertinent to the discussion.” Lord Hector wanted her to reveal 'Lady Katarina' as an impostor and have her put to death. Given the proof he had shown her, she was inclined to believe him. She still would prefer not to have to state that aloud.

  “It has, I'm afraid, become the essential question,” he responded. “Lady Katarina has apparently sworn an oath to the service of the High Kings.”

  Kerrel stared at him in shock.

  He continued, his voice steady, “She travels with an alleged Shrouded Wizard, one of Noth's Disciples, we think. Her people defeated a large Armen and Noric force, directed by a wizard, at the ruins of the Southwatch, where she and her forces recovered a number of weapons and artifacts. We've also word that she recovered and turned over the Ducal Blade of Boir to the new Grand Duke of Boir.”

  Kerrel's eyes went wide as she thought through the repercussions. The Ducal Blade of Boir had been missing since the Sundering. If she'd recovered it from the old ruins of Southwatch and then turned it over to Boir, it certainly was a sign that she valued her oath to the High Kings. For over a cycle, Kerrel had tried to get Hector to commit to even a temporary alliance with Boir against the Armen threat. This would make Katarina a far more promising candidate for the Luciel Order.

  She spoke then, “Have you discussed that with the Lonely Isle or Longhaven Chapters...”

  “That's not your business,” the woman said, her voice harsh, “our assistance does not include insight into our internal workings.” So they have disagreements, Kerrel thought, perhaps the Luciel Order isn't as unified as I had hoped. The thought made things seem even less clear to her. How could the organization fight their many enemies if they didn't have unity?

  “Hector bears the Ducal Blade of Masov,” Kerrel said. “He carries it now and I've seen it respond to him.” The weight of that statement seemed to hang in the air. The Ducal Blades were tied to their lands, both in magic and spirit. To carry one without the approval or at least indifference of the spirits of Masov would be foolhardy a best. In order for Hector to be using the blade, then he had to be the best candidate available, not only by skill, but also by blood. That in turn meant that Lady Katarina had to actually be dead, else Masov's Ducal Blade would identify her as the next option. Or else she must be completely unsuitable for some other reason, Kerrel thought.

  “There are ways to deceive the Blades,” the man cautioned. “It has happened before.”

  “Not easily,” Kerrel countered. “And I would imagine that the northern Luciel Order also supports Duke Hector, especially given the threats they face.”

  “I would not assume too much,” the woman cautioned, her voice dry. “And do not ignore the causes of the rebellion here in the south.”

  “What, the selfish nobility who have held back growth here in the south?” Kerrel snapped.

  The man threw back his hood. He had a neatly trimmed beard, streaked with gray, and warm, blue eyes. He also wore a slight smile, “I'm afraid I'm one of those 'selfish nobles' Commander. I can't speak much for some of my fellows, but my involvement is due to more than greed and ambition, I'm afraid.”

  Kerrel flushed, but she recognized how she'd been baited. They aren't certain if I can separate my loyalty for Lord Hector against my oaths to the Order, she realized. She forced herself to think and after a moment, she put together the clues, “You're Lord Theodore, Baron of Nine Peaks.”

  He gave her a slight bow, “I am and I have put not only my forces, but my son behind ousting Lord Hector. Before you say that violates my neutrality... well, there is your own situation. Can you move past your relationship with Hector to decide what is best for all the Five Duchies?”

  Kerrel looked away. “Clearly you've made your own decision.”

  “The Luciel Order has not decided to back Lady Katarina,” Lord Theodore said. “But I have, and I'll be doing my best to guide her in a fashion that supports our goals. Something you may not have heard... she's publicly sworn that if it comes down to a choice between civil war and her own surrender, she's stated that she will surrender.”

  Kerrel bit her lip at that. As yet, both sides had shed only a little blood. It was a noble sentiment, one that Kerrel herself could respect on multiple levels. Her own exile had come under similar circumstances, in fact. Still, she thought, those kinds of sentiments can disappear all too quickly as violence and bloodshed spread.

  “My colleague has voice his own position, not that of the Luciel Order as a whole,” the woman said sharply. Perhaps, Kerrel thought, the differences among the Luciel Order went deeper than between chapters. “Regardless, it is an open statement of his intention... and you still haven't said what Lord Hector's intent is, regarding his cousin, Lady Katarina.”

  Kerrel pursed her lips. In some ways, telling them this was tantamount to treason to Hector. It violated the terms of diplomacy on Lord Theodore's part to request that kind of information. All the same, she had sworn an oath to the Order. She finally gave a sigh, “Hector is convinced that Katarina is dead. He thinks one of the southern nobles, Lord Joris of Olsztyn being the most likely, has found someone to act as an impostor. He can't allow that kind of thing to pass, in his opinion, else another impostor might be put forward whenever convenient to challenge his rule. He wants the impostor put to death and whoever is behind her to step down, though he's willing to compromise to appease the others.”

  Lord Theodore nodded, “On the other hand, I'm quite certain that the Earl of Olsztyn had nothing to do with Katarina's return... and that he's rather more concerned with damage control since her survival has upset his own plans.”

  Kerrel's eyebrows went up at that, “His own plans?”

  “Lord Joris wanted to replace Lord Hector. Lady Katarina's survival makes that unlikely, for a number of reasons,” the woman said. “So we think his move will be to try to salvage something out of the situation.”

  Kerrel considered that for a long moment. She wasn't certain if she was too far away from the immediate situation to see things clearly or if Lord Theodore was too close. Either way, what he said didn't match with what Hector told her. And whether that's because he has his own agenda, because Covle Darkbit hasn't been passing information on to Hector, or because Hector's just trying to test me, Kerrel thought, is anyone's guess.

  “Either way, with his support, Lady Katarina, if it is her, will have a substantial army,” Kerrel said. “And she's just captured the Ryftguard, so she's in a position to put a hard squeeze on supplies coming in to feed the south over the winter.”

  “There was no food coming in, even before she took the Ryftguard,” the woman said. “Darkbit's patrols locked down most of the merchant traffic. He's personally made it dangerous for any traders to do business here.”

  Lord Theodore nodded, his face grim, “We've actually seen an increase in trade in the areas going over to Lady Katarina. I don't know if Darkbit was doing it on purpose or not, but many of his mercenaries were getting out of control and there's rumors he's had a number of merchants locked up or executed when they refused to sell him goods at 'special' prices.”

  Kerrel bit back a curse at that. That at least fit well enough with what she'd seen. She and her men had barely been able to stock up on food for the journey south. If this continued into winter, the south would be hit by a famine... and she had little doubt that given a choice between rebellion or even banditry in the face of starvation, that many would chose to oppose Hector.

  “I'll do what I can to resolve that,” Kerrel said, though she knew well enough it was a hollow promise. “And I'll continue to work on Lord Hector, he's got the skills and potential to be a great leader...”

  “He's a chip on his shoulder and anger enough for five men,” Lord Theodore said harshly. “And before you say I don't know him, I fostered him for three cycles before he trained with the old Duke's Hound. He's potential, right enough, but just as much for the dark as for ou
r goals.” He paused and shrugged, “Even leaving aside these lands, all of us know the stakes. The Luciel Order focuses upon all Five Duchies. Who is a better candidate for taking the role of the High King?”

  Kerrel looked away at that. Katarina and her dead brother, were descended from three of the Great Houses: Masov through their father, and Taral and Marovingia through their mother. That fact alone meant she could conceivably forge an alliance with the others built upon blood. And from what they said, she's laid groundwork for an alliance with Boir, as well, she thought. If Lord Hector continued to oppose her, though, she wouldn't have the strength to forge that kind of alliance. “What do you want me to say?” Kerrel asked bitterly. She'd put cycles of work, her own life, and no little amount of her heart into Hector. If the Luciel Order decided to oppose him...

  “We're just laying out the situation,” the woman said, her voice a bit more gentle. “But you need to consider these things... and if the time comes, make a decision based upon all the factors. Because, like it or not, the Luciel Order has appointed you to make that decision. We're wardens of civilization, the bearers of the light and you're just as much one of us as any.”

  Kerrel just nodded at that. She knew the decision would come back to her. That they trusted her to make it should have made her feel proud. It was a measure of trust that weighed upon her though. How could she make such a choice? What if she chose wrong... or worse, what if she couldn't chose at all?

  ***

  Lady Katarina Emberhill

  The Ryftguard, Duchy of Masov

  22nd of Paloom, Cycle 1000 Post Sundering

  Katarina sat down in the over-sized chair at the head of the table and tried not to feel too ostentatious. She looked down the table at her advisers and commanders and bit back a smile as she saw Aerion. He looked uncomfortable enough to be seated at the table, much less in his current position.