Leo ground his teeth, struggling to work through the elf’s argument to craft a reply. Before he’d reached anything resembling a decision, however, Cirilla reached out and rested her hand atop his. Then, with a haughty expression, she turned to face Lucius.
“Some might say,” she said, “That to plan for such a future is evidence of present disloyalty.”
“His Majesty knows better,” Lucius shot back. “My loyalty is beyond questioning. But I will not wager the freedom of my people on the goodwill of others.”
“You three,” Leo said, before Cirilla could offer the biting retort he read on her lips. He eyed Buchold, Iresh, and Sophe in turn. “What do you think of this proposal?”
The elves and trow exchanged glances. Then, clearing his throat softly, Buchold spoke for the group.
“Respectfully, Your Majesty, I can find no fault with the idea,” the primarch said. “While there are many who wish to remain in Ansiri, for many others the prospect is quite painful. I could hardly blame them for seeking a fresh start. And Lucius is as capable and trustworthy a tetrarch as you could hope to find.”
Leo exhaled slowly, masking his sigh. His gaze wandered from face to face, hunting for some objection or evidence that might sway his opinion one way or the other. Unfortunately, he spotted nothing of the sort. Even Davin and Nicolo, whose piercing eyes and cutting insights had so often served in the past, supplied nothing but contemplative expressions and reserved stares.
“I will consider it,” Leo said.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Leo had dreaded the day of Lucius’ departure for weeks. He’d known the day was coming throughout the summer, of course, but for the majority of those months, he’d anticipated it with the same sort of vague timelessness he attached to his own death. It would arrive, someday, but distant enough that there was no use dreading the particulars.
But now, as the first of the chilled, autumn breezes swept through the city streets, Leo shivered and pulled his cloak tight. Not even the rich fur and patterned velvet could fully stave off the growing cold. At least, that was what he told himself.
His steps slowed as he crossed the unmarked threshold into the slave market. Where once its streets had been packed tight with slavers, chattel, nobles, and bored workmen in search of a show, the well-maintained avenue was largely abandoned. Here and there, gangs of unchaperoned children ran and played while their distracted guardians offered smiles and bows as Leo passed.
“It’s certainly changed a lot,” Leo murmured. He forced himself to keep moving as they passed the front of the auction house that had once been Nicolo’s. Now, the sound of saws and hammers drifted out the open door.
“It has,” Nyssa agreed. “And definitely for the better.”
Leo glanced at her then at Karran. Neither appeared overly glad to be back, despite the widespread changes that had seen the slave markets reborn as the elven district. He could understand their reticence, of course, though it still pained him. He wondered how long it would be until folks ceased to refer to it by its previous moniker.
Years, most likely.
“Come on,” he said, increasing his pace. “The tide will change any minute. Don’t want the bastard thinking he can sneak off without saying goodbye.”
Turning left at the junction of two broad roads, Leo led them west until they’d passed from the elven district and into the maze of wharves and warehouses. There were fewer elves here but more than he would have found elsewhere in the city. And although there was some small divergence in the depth of bows offered by the elves and men they passed, he was gratified to notice that the gap was closing.
Part of that was no doubt thanks to the composition of his guards. While Nyssa and Karran were such staples that he hardly traveled without them, Leo had spent the past few months experimenting with different arrangements. And despite the protestations of a few, he’d eventually decided to cast aside any attempts at coordinating based upon his destination and simply split the dozen right down the middle. Five men and five elves, intermixed seemingly at random, hurried after him with clinking mail and heavy footfalls.
“Bauccan,” Leo called, as they passed between the final row of warehouses and emerged bayside. “Anything amiss?”
“Not a thing, Your Majesty,” came the man’s brisk reply.
Keeping his back turned so the man could not see his smile, Leo nodded slowly. “Good,” he said. “I trust you’ll behave yourself today?”
“Aye, sir,” Bauccan said. “I’ll do my best.”
“I’m counting on it.”
It didn’t take long for one of the senior stevedores to hurry over and offer his aide. Leo indulged him, though directions were hardly necessary. Of the dozens of ships at anchor, it took only a glance for him to recognize the Unity—or the Liberty, as the harbormaster’s log would now reflect. And, even if he had not spotted the vessel itself, he could hardly have missed the crowd of hundreds congregating on the doublewide pier stretching alongside her.
Lucius spotted him before he’d traveled more than a quarter the length of the pier. Picking his way through the crowd, the elf hurried Leo’s way, wearing a smile nearly as flamboyant as the vaguely nautical cap atop his head.
“Your Majesty!” Lucius exclaimed. He dropped to one knee but so briefly that it more closely resembled a lunge than the intended obeisance. “Welcome! I don’t suppose you’ve decided to join us?”
“I’m afraid not, Tetrarch,” Leo said. He offered his hand and Lucius grasped it firmly. “I’ve come to see you off, nothing more.”
“Ah, a pity then.” Finally releasing Leo’s hand, Lucius folded his arms behind his back and cocked a brow. “Your lady wife won’t be joining us?”
“Cirilla sends her regrets,” Leo said. He was suddenly conscious of the dozens of persons within earshot and fought the urge to squirm. He’d been King for nearly six months now and still found the lack of personal privacy to be just as unnerving as it had been from the start. “I offered to find her a wet nurse, but… well, I know how to pick my battles.”
Lucius chuckled and shook his head. “Smart man,” he teased. “How are they doing?”
“They’re both well,” Leo said, torn between the desire to brag and change the subject. In the end, he merely fidgeted. “With Cirilla insisting on caring for him alone, I expect it’ll be months before we get an actual night’s sleep. Not that I blame her. Ansiri may as well be a colicky newborn. Given the choice, I’d choose Henri too.”
“Well, with such dedicated parents, the boy is sure to make a fine King someday.”
“Aye,” Leo agreed. Then, unable to stand the bittersweet intimacy any longer, he cleared his throat and nodded toward the newly renamed Freedom. “So? What’s the final tally?”
Lucius followed Leo’s gaze before answering. “One hundred or so are coming with me,” he said. “Bulwark and Wytch are both galleons so they’ll take two-fifty apiece when they sail next week. Hopefully, come spring, Summers can spare enough ships to take the rest at once. We’ve had almost three thousand add their names to the list.”
“Three thousand,” Leo echoed softly, unsure whether or not to be pleased by the news. “You really are trying to compete with me, eh?”
“I’ll need the help if we’re to make our first tithe.”
“I know, I know.” Advancing to inspect the ship while shoulder-to-shoulder, Leo dropped his voice to a murmur. “You’re sure about this? It’s only a few weeks until the first snows. You’re more than welcome to delay until spring.”
“Thank you, Leo,” Lucius replied. “But, no, it’s best if we go now. It won’t be quite as warm as Sutherpoint, but we’ll hardly freeze. And it’s important that we act swiftly.”
“If you’re certain then.”
“I am.”
Leo sighed, donned a smile he didn’t quite feel, and offered the elf his hand for a second time. Again, Lucius accepted it and continued to squeeze far beyond when
another might have released it.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said earnestly. “For everything.”
Leo nodded. “Stay safe,” he instructed. And then, turning on his heel, he strolled away and left Lucius, slave-turned-tetrarch, to his well-deserved journey.
It was not a long walk back to the Ministry, though his circuitous path and the cold wind made the trip feel longer than it actually was. Even so, Leo’s discomfort vanished as they rounded a corner and he caught sight of a familiar, grizzled face watching him from the stoop of an equally familiar building. No sooner had he spotted the man than the figure ducked inside.
“Wait here,” Leo ordered. “I’m in a nostalgic sort of mood. Nyssa, Karran, you two follow me.”
The rest of Leo’s escorts knew better than to protest. They took up position outside DeWitt & Son, backs to the door. Nyssa and Karran entered the shop before him. And although Leo should have waited for them to report back, he followed them after a few seconds.
Amos leaned against the side of a display shelf, chatting idly with the harried-looking, younger DeWitt. At Leo’s approach, the shopkeeper bowed low. His Low Crown companion, however, merely nodded in greeting.
“It’s been a while, Master DeWitt,” Leo said. He hardly looked at the man, studying Amos instead. “How is your father?”
There was an uncomfortable moment of silence in which the still-bowing man tried to clear his throat.
“With the gods now, Your, uh, Majesty.”
“My condolences,” Leo said instinctively. “Would you mind giving us the room?”
“Not at all, Your Majesty!” DeWitt exclaimed. The man both sounded and appeared relieved as he practically fled toward the cramped living quarters to the building’s rear. “Just shout if you need anything.”
Leo waited until the door closed in DeWitt’s wake, then sighed and looked impatiently at Amos. “Well?” he said. “Where is she?”
“Where do you think I am?” Davin replied. She climbed to her feet, a few dark curls and a splash of pale forehead the only part of her visible over one of the shop’s display shelves and beneath the absurdly feathered hat atop her head.
Leo sighed again and rolled his eyes. “Aren’t you a bit old to be playing hide-and-find, Davin?” he asked.
Huffing, she swept the hat from her head and returned it to its shelf. Then, as she rounded the corner and stepped into sight, she scowled openly.
“I warned you, didn’t I?” she said. “You’re no fun anymore.”
“Davin,” he growled warningly. “Is it done?”
“Aye, it’s done.” Folding her arms, she stared impatiently at Leo. “I wouldn’t be much of a Royal Spymaster if I couldn’t write a couple of names on a list.”
“And you explained their duties personally?” he pressed. “I don’t want this getting fucked up just because you delegated to the wrong person.”
Davin’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I explained it myself,” she confirmed in a steely tone. “Observation only. They’re not to lift a finger, no matter what Lucius does. They’re spying on a friend, not an enemy, after all. And any dispatches they send are to be delivered to me or you. No exceptions.”
“Good.” He turned to leave and was reaching for the door when Davin spoke up again.
“You really think Lucius would betray you?” she asked.
Leo paused then glanced incredulously at Karran and Nyssa. Neither woman’s expression revealed much of anything, much less any hint that they shared Davin’s concern. Peering back over his shoulder, he met Davin’s gaze.
“Of course not,” he said. “I’d trust him with my life.”
“Then… why go through all this trouble? If you trust him that much, why waste the manpower by spying on him?”
“Because I’m a King,” he explained. “I haven’t got the luxury of trusting anyone.”
And with that, Leo VanOrden, King of Ansiri, Lord of the Isles, and battle-proven Sha’rath of the elves, strolled out into the lukewarm sunlight, pulled his cloak tight around his shoulders, and headed for home.
The End
Thank you!
Thank you so much for reading Duke of Minds! It’s only thanks to the support and encouragement of fans like you that I’m able to write books like this. If you enjoyed the story, would you consider leaving a review? Your feedback helps ensure other readers discover my books, helps me improve as an author, and allows me to write novels that people love to read.
To those of you who’ve supported this series from the beginning: Thank you. Seriously, it’s entirely because of your support that these books grew to become what they are. And although Leo’s story may be complete for the time being, I’ll be revisiting the Isles very soon.
Master of Monsters is finished, but Ansiri isn’t going anywhere!
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Stephen L. Hadley is a former banker from the American Midwest, where he now pursues his dream of being a full-time author. He lives with his wife, several dying houseplants, and an ever-growing, soon-to-be-sentient stack of board games. He also holds a B.S. in Communications, the irony of which is not lost on him.
In his spare time, he enjoys reading, biking, and discussing politics until he vomits from anger.
Duke of Minds (Master of Monsters Book 4) Page 32
