by Max Irons
“What’s been happening outside?” asked Galeron. “What happened after I was thrown in here?”
“Both Porter sisters are being held in Princess Carys’s old chambers,” she said. “Lord Porter has returned to his house under heavy guard to prepare for exile, and the full court is assembled in the throne hall. I imagine Kolvein is explaining that Broton guilt in the princess’s murder has been established. A state of war will soon follow.”
Galeron scowled. “Then I’m too late.”
Lady Atalan gave the manacle a swift wrench with the lock pick, and it came open. Galeron leaned against the wall and rubbed at his other arm.
“Not entirely,” she said. “As I said before, house Porter is vital to the workings of Raya, perhaps the most vital. I do not believe Kolvein’s plan is a simple war between our two nations.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “You are aware of the Tripart Accords, yes?”
Galeron nodded. “Who isn’t?”
“You are likely familiar with the tenants, but do you know the signatories? Lady Atalan asked.
“Ah…” Galeron paused. He’d quit paying attention to events once his time in the informer business had ended. Didn’t the Tripart exist between Broton and Raya? “I have a strange feeling I’m missing something.”
Lady Atalan sighed. “Most forget, but the accords are called such because of the three tenants and three signatories: Broton, Raya, and Soterios.”
Interesting, but why do I care? Of course, he couldn’t just say that. Lady Atalan had risked much in coming here. “Forgive my ignorance, noble lady, but I’m not sure what the importance is.”
“Think, sir knight. Whether or not Raya declares war is irrelevant. The execution of the Porter heirs will do that just as well.”
Galeron winced and rubbed his forehead. She was speaking in riddles. “How?”
“You know of your own king’s…maladies,” Lady Atalan said. “Princess Arlana has told me of his attempt on your life when he believed you might be a threat. Given his hatred of mages and fear of magic, King Soren would seize any opportunity to strike in a war he thinks is coming.”
“Um…”
“Princess Arlana spoke most highly of you,” she said, deep exasperation in her voice. “How do you not see it?”
If I’d had more sleep, maybe. A poor excuse. True, he needed rest like a burning house needed a rainstorm, but it might be embarrassing to admit to his next client that a war broke out because he, Galeron, had been too sleepy to put pieces together. Think, think. Go back to the beginning.
What did he know? Fact: Iven had to return to Raya to lead house Porter. People would starve if he didn’t. Fact: No heirs to house Porter at all, whether male or female, meant no one to run food distribution. Fact: no food distribution meant unhappy commoners. Fact: unhappy commoners meant riots, revolts, and chaos in the streets. Fact: chaos in the streets meant Rayan attention was internal, not external.
Also a fact: countries in revolt were easy to conquer.
With Raya burning, Soren wouldn’t be able to help himself. He’d send the Broton army to conquer and destroy the mages before they could mount a defense, taking the Rayan populace with them.
Galeron drew a shuddering breath. Broton’s invasion of Raya would be unprovoked, activating the Tripart accords and calling Soterios to Raya’s aid. Soterios would strike at Broton’s flanks overland, lacking a serious navy, but they’d have to plunge into the deep south to do it. Every fighting man from three nations would be packed into the border country between Raya and Broton. Soren’s armies would be crushed like metal between a hammer and anvil.
And that wasn’t the worst of it.
His jaw dropped, and he stared at Lady Atalan for a moment. “He…I…I’m a fool.”
She nodded. “Now you see.”
Galeron swallowed. “If one part of the accords is broken, it all becomes void. No one is going to man the fortresses guarding the Njal passes. The Delktians will walk out unopposed.”
“Nothing will stand between them and the conquest of an unguarded Soterios and mostly empty Broton,” Lady Atalan said. “They’ll plow into the Soterian flanks, just as the Soterians will have done to the Brotons.”
He stood there, mute. One blow, one battle would completely end the ability of all three nations to oppose the Delktian advance. Perhaps they wouldn’t be able to hide their march over thousands of leagues, but it wouldn’t matter. The flatlands of Broton’s southern region would play to the massive numbers the Delktians could field, and if they brought another necromancer, their ranks would swell by the hundreds of thousands.
Kolvein hadn’t been bragging. He’d been telling the truth the entire time. “Why lie? It’s just a truth you wish you had?”
Unless he could do something to stop it.
Galeron swallowed the ball of ice in his throat, and it settled somewhere around his navel. “What do we do? King Balen has given Kolvein leave to do whatever he pleases.”
“We cannot change his commands, nor can we fix his mind,” Lady Atalan said. “I am bound by the restrictions of court, and I cannot raise a hand against my sovereign.”
He frowned. “You freed me.”
She gave him a small smile. “Did I? Who witnessed this treasonous act? My suggestion, sir knight, is the rescue of the Porter sisters. Their house is Kolvein’s fulcrum. If all members are not eliminated, his plans for revolt cannot work.”
Galeron nodded. “That sounds simple enough, I suppose.”
“Do not be overconfident,” she warned. “Deathstalker you may be, they are guarded by Kolvein’s hired mages, and I hear his numbers have swollen since last you tangled.”
More than three mages, and it would be just him, and maybe Iven if he could get him. Those were not good odds, and there was still Lonni to think about. Kolvein had her somewhere, and she would die by sunrise tomorrow. He couldn’t be in two places at once, and if he and Iven went in separate directions, they’d both surely die.
Just as Kolvein had planned it.
“How can he know?” Galeron grumbled, more to himself.
“Magic,” Lady Atalan said simply.
He sighed. “I knew that one. He can manipulate the air.”
She nodded. “You speak truly, but his powers are at once weaker and greater than that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Be careful what you say in his presence,” she said. “I cannot prove what I think, but manipulation of air may allow him to hear what others do not.”
Galeron’s brow furrowed. “He stopped me from attacking him once, but not the second time. Is he really that strong?”
“Likely he is more about finesse than strength,” Lady Atalan said. “He is no great threat physically, or even magically in a straight fight, so he hires others to do such work.”
“But if he can manipulate the crown,” Galeron said. “He wouldn’t need to do anything but gather information. That’s how he endeared himself to King Balen.” A growl bubbled in his throat. “Slippery little toad.”
“Wouldn’t the king’s death be more convenient?” asked Galeron. “Would Kolvein hold the same influence over one of the princes?”
Lady Atalan glared at him. “Sir knight, regicide is the worst of all options. There’s not a substance alive that can make the death of a king look like an accident, and Kolvein would tear the court apart to find the one responsible.”
That wasn’t entirely true. The vial of mousebane, hopefully still safe in his belt pouch, might do the trick, but a lot of poisons had a tendency to lose effectiveness if they weren’t used soon after brewing, and that one was over a month old.
“Regardless,” she continued. “The death of such a powerful symbol as Balen might provide the same temptation to King Soren.”
Rescue the Porter sisters from an unknown number of mages, keep Iven from leaving, and save Lonni all before the sun came up the next day, while making sure that no one killed King Balen.
/> “There’s not a lot of room to make mistakes,” Galeron said.
“No, sir knight, there is not,” Lady Atalan said. “Now, if you’re quite done stating the obvious, I think it’s time you leave.”
He glanced down at his bare chest. “Do you happen to—”
“Take a right after you leave the dungeon,” she said. “You’ll find your belongings there, and the armory should be empty.”
Getting his things back would be the easy part. Everything else? Well, he’d figure it out as they went.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
It was a strange thing to be grateful for. Galeron had never pondered the usefulness of the decorative skirts that swung around the bottom of most nobles’ carriages. However, suspending himself by the folding steps under Lady Atalan’s carriage, the flapping frippery kept him hidden from view as the horse and carriage rattled down the cobblestone street. The legionaries on watch in the royal compounds never suspected a thing, though Galeron had almost panicked when he slipped for a moment, hanging precariously by one arm before getting himself secured.
The muscles in his stomach and abdomen screamed at him as they rode. Galeron kept himself stiff as a board, using his arms and legs more to stabilize than hold himself up. The pain of keeping that pose, with his back almost flat against the carriage bottom and limbs immovable, caused his muscles to tremble violently. It was only when they had cleared the palace compound and turned down the nobility’s street that Galeron dropped to the ground and curled into a ball.
His head hit the stone hard, and a blinding flash of white light ripped through his vision before the street view returned. It seemed to blur if he moved his eyes too fast. Galeron struggled to his feet, pauldrons clanking as he leaned over, hands on his knees, and waited for the world to stop spinning. Iven’s house lay only a few mansions down, and, hopefully, few legionaries would have been assigned to watch him.
As Galeron approached the Porter house, though, he found no legionaries stationed at the door, nor did he find any once he’d walked into the atrium and glanced about. In fact, the house seemed deserted. Voices drifted back to him, and he followed the sound through the dining hall and into the massive kitchen and cupboard. Iven, bow in hand, was arguing with a servant in a very animated fashion, waving his hands around and pacing up and down the floor.
“I know it doesn’t make sense,” Iven said. “I don’t even know why, but Kolvein’s as good as king now, so what am I going to do? I’m just lucky he thought I was broken enough to not bother with an armed escort.”
“My lord, this breaks every form of tradition imaginable,” said the servant. “I’m sure if you contested this, put in for an investigation—”
“You don’t get it,” Iven said. “Our king is madder than…I don’t even know what. He sees drakes in walls, and because Kolvein feeds the delusion, Balen trusts him. There’s no way to reason with either of them. Balen’s king until he either dies, or someone makes it happen.”
“Glad you found your bow,” Galeron said. “There’s another option.”
Iven whirled around, and his face collapsed in relief. “Dianna hid it in the kitchen, and they let you out. Wonderful.” He frowned. “Wait. Why would Kolvein let you out?”
“He didn’t,” Galeron said. “I…had help, but I don’t think I’m supposed to say who.”
He shrugged. “Don’t care. Point is, you’re out, and I don’t have to watch this alone.”
“Watch what?” asked Galeron, though he felt he knew the answer.
“Dianna and Phoebe are going to the headsman’s block at sunrise tomorrow,” Iven said. “I’m being summoned to watch before I’m sent into exile.”
Without your eyes. That was probably best left unsaid, especially as it wouldn’t be happening. Not if he had anything to say about it.
“More at stake here than just your sisters’ lives,” Galeron said, and he filled Iven in on the details.
After he’d finished, Iven sat on one of the trestle tables and stared at the ceiling. “How did we miss all this?”
Galeron shrugged. “We walked in thinking someone had a grudge against Carys or Fletcher. Didn’t stop to think about much else.”
“For once in our history, house Porter is actually important,” Iven said. “I’d laugh if it weren’t so terrifying, but we’ve got a problem.”
“Only one?”
“How are we going to get past all those mages to free my sisters, rescue Lonni, and make sure that the king stays alive?”
Galeron rubbed the bridge of his nose. This, of course, was what he’d been struggling with ever since he’d learned it. “We can’t split up and do both at once.”
“This is why you’re the informer.”
He scowled. “Stop it.”
“How do you come up with such wisdom?”
Galeron buried his head in his hands. Maybe Iven was getting a little overwhelmed and retreating into his wit. It wouldn’t be too surprising. What they’d learned today would drive anyone a little over the edge. The tasks had to be taken one at a time. Splitting up would do nothing. Unfortunately, that meant doing something Iven would hate.
“We’ll have to find Lonni first,” he said, not looking up.
“What?” asked Iven.
“We have to find Lonni.”
Iven frowned. “I’m not trying to be…actually, I don’t care what I sound like. I’m sorry you and Lonni didn’t part on good terms, but that doesn’t mean we go after her fist. Your love life can wait.”
Galeron scowled. “It’s not about that.”
Iven gave him an “I’m-not-a-fool” look and rolled his eyes.
“It’s my fault she’s in this mess,” Galeron said. “I dragged her to Raya, and I promised Rand to keep her safe. Besides, we can’t fight so many mages on our own.”
Iven nodded. “All true, and we do need Lonni and her firelocks.”
“Exactly,” Galeron said.
“But where did they take her?” asked Iven.
“I don’t know.” Galeron shook his head. “We’re going to have to comb the city for her, or visit places that might have people who know things.”
“We—this is Keenan Caffar, not some Broton fishing village,” Iven said. “There’s at least three separate divisions, and that’s not even counting the day’s climb up to Aleor, which is a whole other problem.”
“It’s the only option,” said Galeron. “If we go after your sisters now, we will be killed.”
Iven groaned. “If I could do necromancy, I would bring my brother back just to kill him myself.” He slammed his fist against the table. “We have to find Lonni’s kidnappers, free her, make night dust, and then rush back to the palace to save Phoebe and Dianna.”
“Sounds about right.”
“And we have less than a day to do it?”
“Yes.”
Iven slid off the table. “We don’t have any marines this time.”
“Right.”
“That would be too easy, wouldn’t it?”
“Naturally.”
#
Iven slipped into Galeron’s old leather brigandine, gathered his quiver and spare bowstrings, and donned his hat. They slipped out of the Porter mansion and headed down the lane. Galeron had left the surcoat bearing house Porter’s colors behind, instead adopting a simple black tunic without any monikers.
“Very intimidating,” Iven said. “You look like death.”
“Hopefully, everyone will think so,” Galeron said. He patted the satchel at his side. Lonni’s firelocks still lay hidden. They weren’t going anywhere, so why did he keep checking?
“That’s not what I meant,” Iven said. “You look terrible.”
Galeron scowled. “Thanks.”
“What’s the plan?”
Galeron looked up at the sky. The sun slid behind a patch of clouds, but it had passed its peak for the day. Early afternoon. Time was getting away from them. He ground his teeth. They couldn’t lurk in taverns and hope to o
verhear conversations, or wheedle information out of patrons by buying them drinks.
“We start cracking skulls together until someone talks,” Galeron said. Brutal, but it was faster than being polite.
Iven grinned. “Excellent. I’ve missed this.”
“Know any good places to start?” asked Galeron.
“We can ignore most of the inner and outer city,” Iven said. “The kinds of sell-swords who’d kidnap wouldn’t hunt for clients in those areas.”
“Why not?”
“Too risky, and if the nobility’s hiring a sell-sword, they’re going to want someone with discretion.” Iven shrugged. “Whether it was Arlana or Kolvein, they’d probably hire someone for cheap, and those people aren’t known for their finesse. It’s not a hard job, and Lonni’s not a mage.”
That ruled out about one third of Keenan Caffar. Helpful, but it was still too large. How could they narrow it down further? Galeron chewed on the side of his mouth as they walked through the inner gatehouse and into the outer city’s crowded streets.
“What else do we know?” asked Galeron.
“It’s time we had lunch.” said Iven.
“Aside from that.” Galeron’s stomach gurgled at the thought of food. How long had it been since he’d eaten?
“I really wish we had something to eat.” He rubbed his belly.
Galeron sighed. “We can get food in the burg, so try not to eat the next thing you lay eyes on.”
Iven watched a horse and cart roll by. “I’m not all that fond of horse meat, and carts give me splinters.”
At least he hadn’t completely lost his sense of humor.
“Before we get food or hunt for Lonni, we need to drop by an apothecary,” Galeron said.
“Feeling ill?” asked Iven.
Galeron shook his head. “Lonni’s going to need the ingredients for night dust. I’ve already got some nitrate of potash, but we still need sulfur and charcoal. Besides, people keep mentioning a knowledgeable apothecary in the burg delivering information to Lord Pendegrast. If he’s that well connected, he’ll know who might have taken the job to kidnap her.”
