Souldrifter: The Dreamwielder Chronicles - Book Two

by Garrett Calcaterra

  “Did you say Talitha of Issborg has been impeached?” Makarria asked, stunned by the very thought.

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “That cannot be. We have heard nothing and we are in regular communication with both Talitha and our ambassador in Col Sargoth.”

  Senator Emil shrugged apologetically. “We have means of communication that travel more quickly than ravens. I do not mean to challenge your assertion, Your Majesty, but I promise you, we have it on the highest authority that Talitha of Issborg is no longer in charge of the proceedings. If you have not received word yet, it is simply a matter of time. Time that can be well spent in preparation. The Republic requires assurance that Valaróz will stymie any civil unrest in the northern kingdoms.”

  Nervous whispers passed through the audience.

  “I find it interesting that the Republic is suddenly so interested in turmoil and unrest in the Five Kingdoms,” Caile said, an edge in his voice. “Where was the Old World’s concern when Parmenios Pallma reclaimed the Valarion throne and joined my father in war against Emperor Guderian?”

  “We were standing at the ready, prince,” Senator Emil said. “All King Casstian needed to do was ask for our aid and we would have been there. Neither Guderian, Don Bricio, nor Wulfram were any allies to the Republic. We would have come to your aid gladly.”

  “He speaks the truth of the matter,” Ambassador Mahalath said. “And we do not entreat you today with an unreasonable demand. Rather, we come offering aid. The Republic has many resources: armies, sorcerers, ships, supplies, money. Together we can ensure a new epoch of peace.”

  “That’s right,” Emil added. “For better or worse, Emperor Guderian did provide stability during his reign. If a new leader were to step in to control the Five Kingdoms and maintain that stability, and then openly trade with neighboring realms, we could lead both of our realms to unprecedented prosperity.”

  “Are you suggesting Queen Makarria re-form Guderian’s empire?” Caile asked.

  “Empire, Five Kingdoms—call it whatever you like. If strong leadership does not rise to the occasion and keep the realm under control, the Republic Senate will vote to take action.”

  Caile rose to his feet and glared down at the senator. “How dare you threaten us? You think we are weak because we are young? I’ll have you know it was Makarria who killed Guderian. I who killed Don Bricio and Wulfram. My sister who led the Pyrthin army to force the Sargothian and Golierian armies to surrender. We did what none of your senators or sorcerers ever dared to attempt.”

  “Children can win a war,” Emil replied with a sneer, “but it takes men to rule a realm.”

  This time the crowd did more than whisper. It was their surprised gasps and muttered insults toward Senator Emil that prompted Makarria to stand.

  “That is quite enough,” she said, staring down at Senator Emil.

  Ambassador Mahalath pushed his way in front of the senator. “Your Majesty, our apologies. Senator Emil is accustomed to debating in the Republic Senate where discussions are more…lively. I’m certain he meant no disrespect. Isn’t that right, senator?”

  “Of course,” Emil responded.

  “You see? Again our apologies. We simply mean to impress upon you the importance of taking timely action on this matter.”

  Makarria motioned for Caile to sit, then took her own seat, trying to appear as dignified as possible. “Whether disrespect was intended or not, Senator, I do not take demands upon me or my station lightly. I have heard your concerns. I will consult with the Sargothian ambassador on the proceedings in Col Sargoth. I will meet with my advisors to devise a course of action if necessary, and I will meet with you again on the morrow. I too wish for nothing but peace and prosperity, and let me remind you—no fighting or ‘civil unrest’ has yet broken out in Sargoth. We will not resort to preemptive violence to prevent violence. That is all, gentlemen. My staff will see you to your quarters. This hearing is over.”

  4

  Unknown Soldiers

  “What was all that?” Makarria demanded of Caile back in the small sitting room.

  Caile pulled his doublet off over his head and plopped himself down into one of the cushioned chairs. “That was a good show of strength. Well done!”

  “Is that what you call it?” She turned to find Lorentz for his support, but he was gone, having stayed back in the throne room apparently. With a frustrated growl she began pacing the room. “Did you see yourself in there? You were standing up, yelling at an official delegation, in front of an audience!”

  “What? You didn’t really think I was as angry as I made out to be, did you?”

  Makarria narrowed her eyes at him. “You faked it?”

  “Well, not entirely, but yes, I overreacted on purpose. If they were really out to enact some sort of treaty or agreement, they would have met with us in private to hammer out the details, but no, the senator insisted on confronting us in the throne room in front of everyone.”

  “To undermine us in front of our own people,” Makarria said, annoyed with herself for not having silenced Senator Emil sooner.

  “Right, or to plant the idea of revolt and civil unrest in their heads. Either way, we had to respond with conviction. That was why I raised my voice. Plus, it allowed us to get a better sense of what they were after, which I think is clear now—they’re after exactly what you feared, a foothold, if not absolute control of the Five Kingdoms now that Emperor Guderian is gone. My little act made it clear we’re not afraid to fight, and, more importantly, it gave you the opportunity to show you are in charge. Which you did a nice job of, by the way.”

  Makarria stared at him. He never ceased to surprise her, and as much as she wanted to still be angry with him, she couldn’t help but return his stupid grin. He was so proud of himself. “You are too much for me to handle sometimes.”

  “Oh, you do all right,” he assured her. “The only thing I might have done differently in there was take what you did a step further and send the entire Old World delegation packing back to their ship. I’m not sure it’s a good idea having them here so close at hand.”

  This time it was Makarria’s turn to surprise him. She might be relatively new to politics, but it didn’t mean that she hadn’t been taking the time to learn as much as she could. Her tutor, the scholar Natale, had already taught her much in the last year.

  “It did cross my mind to send them away,” she said, “but as Sargoth Lightbringer once wrote, ‘It is always best to keep enemies close at hand so you can keep an eye on them.’”

  “See what I mean?” Caile said, holding his hands up. “You’re better at this than you think.”

  Makarria rolled her eyes. “It’s just something my Natale taught me.”

  “Well, he is a smart one. Now to the important questions. Did Talitha really lose control of the proceedings in Col Sargoth? And if so, how in Sargoth’s hairy arse did those bastards from the Old World find out before us?”

  Before Makarria could respond, the side door opened and three people entered the chamber.

  “I think I can answer those questions for you.”

  It was Talitha, along with Siegbjorn and Makarria’s mother, Prisca.

  “They arrived just now in their airship,” Prisca informed Makarria. “They said they had urgent news so I brought them immediately.”

  “Thank you, Mother,” Makarria told her, and she went to embrace the two friends she hadn’t seen in months, giving the enormous, hairy Siegbjorn an extra hard squeeze. She missed his quiet strength and the simple pleasure he found in sailing his airship. If it hadn’t been for him, she doubted she would have survived the fear and solitude of being trapped in the Caverns of Issborg. And though Makarria had spent less time with Talitha than Siegbjorn, Talitha too had been a mentor and friend that Makarria suddenly realized she missed more than she could put into words. She wished she were meeting them both in better circumstances, but she was queen now and had responsibilities. They all did.

 
“Please sit, all of you,” Makarria said. “What’s happened? As glad as I am to see you, you aren’t supposed to be here.”

  “It’s the houndkeeper,” Talitha said. “He’s been plotting with the ambassador from Golier and who knows who else. I knew the steam-engineer’s guild and Golier were in backdoor talks, but then the sorcerer’s guild voted right along with them. The two have been at opposite extremes during the whole process. I never expected to see them join forces. I’m sorry, Makarria. I didn’t even realize what was happening until it was too late. They voted me out and now Natarios Rhodas is in charge of the proceedings. We only have fourteen days left until they elect a ruler, and I’m afraid whomever they choose will not be to our liking. I don’t know what’s happening, but this goes beyond a meddlesome houndkeeper.”

  Makarria and Caile exchanged a look.

  “The Old World Republic perhaps?” Caile suggested.

  “The Old World?” Talitha asked, leaning in closer.

  Makarria nodded. “They arrived this morning, an ambassador and a senator. They knew what happened to you already and are ‘offering us help’ to restore order. How could they have found out about what happened before we did?”

  “That’s a good question,” Talitha replied. “The houndkeeper refused to send a raven, but even so, Siegbjorn and I left within a day and we flew faster than any raven could be expected to. We would have been here yesterday, but I had to make sure Guderian’s war machine factory was secure. Let the Sargothian council think they control the kingdom for now. The only danger in Col Sargoth is those war-wagons, and whoever controls them controls their power. We have that in our hands, at least.”

  “Good,” Caile said, nodding in approval. “I’ve seen firsthand what those machines can do. My father’s cavalry was mowed down like wheat beneath the scythe against those things. How many are left?”

  “More than you want to know.”

  Caile frowned. “You’re sure you trust whoever you left guarding the factories?”

  “The Sargothian cavalry itself guards the war machines. They are sworn to me until such time a new king is coronated. I trust them completely. For the next fourteen days, at least. After that, whoever is elected king will take control of everything.”

  “But how did the Old World know before we did?” Makarria repeated.

  “Sorcery,” Talitha replied. “What else? Their knowledge of magic far surpasses what we have here in the Five Kingdoms. They have some relic of antiquity, no doubt, that allows their informants to communicate directly with Khail Sanctu. I spent years there during my own training as a sorceress and I’ve seen such relics, studied them even.”

  “Khail Sanctu is nine-hundred miles from here, and yet their ship arrived this morning,” Caile pointed out. “It doesn’t add up, not if the message went from Col Sargoth to Khail Sanctu. There’s no way they could have dispatched a ship to arrive here so quickly.”

  “They communicated directly to their ship then,” Makarria said. “They brought a relic onboard their ship because they were expecting a message. This was all planned. Coordinated.”

  Talitha frowned. “Or maybe it’s all just a coincidence. But you’re probably right. It seems a little too convenient for all this to be entirely random. The sorcerer’s guild has long been supported by the Old World. And I’m convinced the houndkeeper could not do this on his own. There has to be a unifying force behind them, and the Old World Republic definitely fits the mark.”

  “What do we do then?” Caile asked.

  “Simple,” Prisca chimed in. “Make sure the right man becomes King of Sargoth.”

  Makarria smiled. Her mother rarely spoke up in meetings of this sort. She was content to let Makarria and her advisors rule the kingdom, and instead focused on running the palace staff. Still, when she did speak up, she spoke with a wisdom that belied her demeanor.

  “Exactly,” Makarria said. “We put the right person on the throne and there’s no longer a void of power in the region. The Old World will have no excuse to meddle in our business. No fighting. No warring.”

  “Sure, that’s simple in theory,” Caile agreed. “But who’s the right man, and how do we make sure he gets elected?”

  “Not so simple,” Talitha said. “There is no clear, best choice for the Sargothian throne. There are many bad choices, including the man Golier’s ambassador and the steam-engineers support, but no perfect candidate. And then there’s the matter of how to influence the council’s vote. I have no more authority to sway their minds. Caile could go, perhaps. He has had some dealings there in the city. This houndkeeper—Natarios Rhodas—he is originally from Pyrthinia. Perhaps you would hold some sway with him, Caile?”

  “Not likely. We’ve never met, and he and my father were at constant odds. The bastard even put himself upon the Pyrthin throne when my father was imprisoned.”

  Siegbjorn spoke then, his Snjaer Firan accent thick and musical. “It was you who killed Guderian, Makarria. It is your right to choose a new king if you do not take the land as your own. Return to Col Sargoth and make it so. I will take you.”

  “Thank you, Siegbjorn, but I wouldn’t even if I could. That is the way Guderian did things. We will not crown a king by force or trickery. We will respect the laws and traditions as Sargoth Lightbringer, Vala, Pyrthin, Norg, and Golier decreed them. Otherwise we’re no better than Guderian.”

  Talitha sighed. “Don’t be so certain. The Old World, the so-called Republic, follows its laws to the letter and I can tell you from experience that they are no less corrupt, their leaders no less power-hungry, than Guderian, Don Bricio, or Natarios Rhodas.”

  “I won’t do it,” Makarria insisted. “The Five Kingdoms have survived for over three hundred years, marred only by Guderian’s reign. I won’t perpetuate his tyranny.”

  “There were many more dark times in our history,” Talitha said. “You forget the Dreamwielder War, the betrayal of Golier, the Norgmen uprising, and the wars with the Old World in the first century. But still, you have the right spirit. If you are going to make right the ill deeds of Emperor Guderian, you must do right by the people of the Five Kingdoms. I would not have it otherwise.”

  “That brings us no closer to a plan of action,” Caile pointed out. “Are we to sit idly by while the council elects a new Sargothian king? Can we appease this Senator Emil that long? I’m doubtful.”

  “Lord Kobel is the candidate the houndkeeper and the ambassador from Golier are pushing,” Talitha said. “If he is elected, he will be a puppet for the steam-engineer’s guild and the Kingdom of Golier. I don’t know what they envision, but you can be certain it involves those war wagons, or the technology to make new ones at least. Combine their steam technology with sorcery, and we’ll be elbow deep in infernal devices we haven’t seen the likes of since the Dreamwielder War. No, we can’t allow Kobel to take the throne. He is arrogant and cruel. The others are cut from the same cloth, but less severe. I have a complete report that your ambassador in Col Sargoth prepared for you. Perhaps you will see something in one of the candidates I do not.”

  “I will read it,” Makarria began to say, but a low rumble reverberated through the sitting room, like a distant explosion or an earthquake. It grew in intensity, a tension that Makarria sensed more in her stomach than with her ears. “What’s happening?”

  “Sorcery,” Talitha answered. “And close.”

  “Lorentz!” Caile shouted.

  Captain Lorentz burst through the main doors into the council chamber almost immediately, along with Captain Haviero of the Royal Guard and six soldiers in his wake.

  “There’s smoke, coming from the fishery borough,” Lorentz reported. “The city watch has already sounded the alarm. Shall I go and investigate?”

  Caile glanced at Talitha, who sat pursing her lips in worry. “No, you stay here and watch the Queen,” he commanded Lorentz. “This is something Talitha and I need to investigate.”

  “I’m not going to just sit around again waiting for you
,” Makarria objected.

  “That’s exactly what you’re going to do,” Talitha said. “Too much has gone awry for this to all be coincidence. It could be a trap, using sorcery to draw out the dreamwielder. Few, if any, know I am here. Caile and I can handle whatever we may encounter. We’ve faced worse together before.”

  “Right,” Caile agreed. “Lorentz, stay here and protect Makarria. You too, Siegbjorn. Summon the rest of the Royal Guard to hold the throne room and this chamber. There are no other ways in or out. You’ll be safe here.”

  “Lady Prisca,” Captain Haviero interrupted, bowing his head. “I’d best escort you to your private quarters. I’m sure everything will be fine, but we need to follow the contingency plan, just in case something…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

  In case something happens to me, Makarria finished in her own mind. Until I take a husband and have children, Mother is the heir to the throne. Captain Haviero had been there when Makarria’s grandfather, Parmo, had been assassinated. He never spoke of it, but it was obvious to Makarria that it drove him to be even more vigilant when it came to keeping Makarria and Prisca safe.

  “Go on, Mother. I’ll be safe here.”

  “Of course,” Prisca agreed. She kissed Makarria on the head and then hurried out of the chamber, followed by Captain Haviero and two of the soldiers.

  “Good, let’s go then,” Caile said to Talitha.

  Makarria wanted to protest, but she saw the reason in their plan. It was pure selfishness to insist on going herself. She had a duty to her people. “Be safe,” she told her friends.

  Caile shot her a quick smile, as if to suggest he would do anything but the sort, and then he swept out the door with Talitha close on his heels.

  • • •

  “What’s happening?” Thon hollered as Caile and Talitha ran past him on their way to the stables.

  “Trouble,” Caile said. “Come along if you’re feeling up for a real fight.”