Peter blinked and tried not to let his fear show. The alliance put a great deal of effort into defending Hamble. They should have been able to hold the position. “Is my father injured?”
“There was no mention of any harm to your father.” Markus indicated his guest should sit. “I trust you understand the significance of the development.”
“I do.” He didn’t want to sit, but his legs felt weak, so he sat in the nearest chair. “Thank you for telling me.”
Markus poured a cup of water and set it in front of Peter. “Miceral is aware of the development and is putting together reinforcements to help.”
“How did this happen, Markus?” Penelope asked.
“No one is sure. Zenora sent word they needed help, and Miceral is responding.”
“Where’s Farrell?”
Peter nodded, glad Penelope asked the question he wanted answered. If Farrell couldn’t stop the attack, Meglar must be involved.
“Miceral said Kel took him away to finish his training and retrieve the last of the Gifts. Before you ask, Farrell doesn’t know about this. Kel and Nerti are refusing to give him any information right now. Before they left, they said it’s vital Farrell finish his training.”
Penelope and Markus continued to discuss the situation, but Peter didn’t pay attention. His thoughts were back on the west coast of Ardus. His father suspected Meglar had given Prince Garreth weapons to use against the alliance, but they made plans to deal with them. How could they be enough to push through the alliance’s defenses?
“Your father is going to be all right.” Markus’s words snapped Peter back to the conversation around him.
“I know.” He lied. From all they’d said, Wilhelm was in mortal danger.
“You don’t sound like you believe that, but I promise we’ll find a way to help him.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Penelope stood. “Let’s go, Peter. I need to get you back to the estate so I can determine what’s going on.”
Numbly Peter complied. He remembered his manners and bowed to Markus. “Thank you again.”
“Of course.”
“Assemble your council and expect me back soon, nephew.”
“Thank you, Auntie.” There was nothing mocking in his words, and Penelope took no offense.
Wallace, Marisa, and Claire were still in the room when they returned. Marisa eyed him anxiously. “Is everything all right?”
“No.” Peter ignored Wallace and headed for the door.
“Peter?” Wallace called. A moment later he grabbed Peter by the upper arm. “What’s going on?”
He tried to shrug free, but the door shut before he could reach it. Spinning around, he met Penelope’s angry gaze.
“You don’t walk out on your friends like that.” She pointed to the couch Wallace had been on when they arrived.
Peter reluctantly did as instructed. He chafed as Penelope recounted the information they’d received from Markus. When she finished he stood again.
“May I go now?”
“Where are you going?” Marisa asked.
“Home.” Peter dared her to say no. “My father’s in trouble. I can’t sit here and let him die.”
“We don’t know that,” Penelope said.
“It’s a bad omen.” He shook as he gave voice to his deepest fears. “The alliance put all their effort into holding Hamble. They won’t have time to prepare like that again before they get to Pelth.”
If they made it to Pelth. They’d be retreating with an emboldened enemy on their heels.
“Your father sent you away to keep you safe,” Marisa said. “Going back will distract him at time when he must concentrate on other things.”
“I’m going if I must buy a ship and row there myself.”
“You’re not going anywhere until I have more information.” Penelope waved at the Permanent Door, and it opened into a dark room. “I’m going to Haven for answers. Alone. You will remain here until I return, and don’t try to sneak off. If you do, believe that I’ll find you, and then I’ll chain you somewhere to be sure you don’t run off again.”
“But—”
“No!” Penelope held out her hand. “This will not be a debate. Before you go home, I will know the full story. Am I clear?”
He wanted to protest, but her face told him it would do more harm than good. “Yes.”
“Good.” She kissed Marisa and stepped through the Door. It winked out immediately, dashing any hope Peter had of rushing after her.
Marisa spun on her heel and left without a word. Her determined expression told him she was up to something.
“Peter?” Wallace said.
Peter stiffened. “I’m going, Wallace.”
“I know you are. I want to give you something before you go.” He paused, and Peter relaxed. “But I need to go home to get it. Will you promise to wait for me to return?”
“It appears I’m not going anywhere until Penelope gets back. Just don’t take too long or I’ll know you’re trying to keep me here.”
“I’ll be back before dinner. Will you wait for me?” Wallace asked.
Peter smiled. “I can wait that long for you.”
“I know you can, but will you?”
“Yes, I will wait for you to come back before I leave.”
“Thank you.” Wallace kissed Peter and disappeared like the Hounds of Neblor were chasing him.
Peter watched him walk away and looked at Claire. “What’s he up to?”
“You’re asking me? How would I know what your darling dearest is planning?”
“Why don’t you stop being around us if we bother you so much?” She flinched, and he regretted his words. He hadn’t meant to sound so angry, but her constant comments wore on his already frayed nerves. “Sorry, I’m—”
“Don’t apologize, I get it. You’re afraid for your father.” She rubbed him lightly on the shoulder. “I’m sorry for bugging you like that. I’m just teasing you. I’ve never seen anyone so in love as you two.”
“You’ve never seen Farrell and Miceral up close.”
“Yes, I have,” she said. “I’ve also seen my mothers, but they’ve had a few years together. You two are just starting. This is the fun time—for you two. For those of us without anyone, well, we can get a bit jealous. Sorry. I’ll try not to tease you so much.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He wasn’t going to be around for much longer. “I need to go pack.”
He didn’t give her time to respond before he went upstairs to his room to gather his things.
True to his word, Wallace returned before dinner. He rode a powerful chestnut stallion instead of his usual mare. Beside him trotted another horse that could be the twin to his. But what drew Peter’s attention were the ten armed men who rode in a loose formation behind him. Peter had seen enough soldiers for hire at Belsport to know their look.
“What’s going on? Who are these mercs and why are you wearing armor?” Peter asked in rapid succession.
“Slow down,” Wallace said as he dismounted.
“Sorry. I’m confused.”
“First.” Wallace held out the reins to the riderless horse.“This is Egert. He and Thunder are twins born to my mother’s favorite mare. I’ve trained both since they were foals, and Mother gave them to me before I left the manor. Egert is yours to ride home.”
“Wallace, I can’t take him from you.”
“I’m wearing my armor because I’m going to Belsport with you.” Wallace turned toward the mounted soldiers. “And these ten mercs were on retainer to my father. They are all excellent fighters. My father has hired them to accompany us when we leave.”
Peter looked from Egert to the mercenaries to Wallace. “You’re coming with me?”
“Yes,” he said. “You don’t think you can get away from me by running halfway around the world, do you?”
“Wallace.” Peter choked up. The offer touched him deeply. “You can’t. It’s too dangerous. You could be kil
led.”
“Every fight carries the risk of death.” He pressed Egert’s reins into Peter’s hand. “War is coming and we both know it. Either we take it to Meglar or he’ll bring the fight to us. Better to fight now, while our allies are alive, than to wait until he gets too strong.”
“My sentiments exactly,” Marisa said. She stood in the doorway, armed for battle. “That’s why Penelope and I will be joining you.”
A pair of servants walked around her and took the reins to Egert and Thunder.
“Have your men follow my staff. They can marshal with my guards,” Marisa said.
Wallace nodded to the soldiers behind him. “Are you bringing a force with us as well?”
“We are.” Marisa rested her hand on the pommel of her sword. “Between our soldiers and Penelope’s magic, we’ll get you to Wilhelm’s side.”
Marisa returned to the house and left the two of them alone. Peter didn’t trust his voice but needed to speak.
“Thank you. For Egert, for coming with me, for everything.”
“I’d be lying if I said this was all about taking the fight to Meglar. I care about you, Peter. I’m not sure I could watch you walk away knowing I might never see you again. Not without trying to help.”
Claire cleared her throat from the doorway.
“If you two are finished, Mother returned from Haven. She told me to tell you you’ll need to wait until tomorrow to leave. She’s gone to find Markus.”
Peter moved away from Wallace. His body shook as he worked to control his anger. “The Gates of Neblor I’m not leaving tonight! If she won’t help me get home, I’ll find another wizard who can open a Door for me.”
“Never curse by that foul place in my home again, do you understand?” Marisa said as she walked down the hallway. “And you are going to wait here until Penelope returns. If you try to leave, you’ll need to go through me to get out.”
Having sparred with her often enough, Peter knew that wasn’t an idle threat. He met her gaze but didn’t flinch. “You can’t keep me a prisoner. I demand to see the king.”
“I can arrange that,” Marisa said icily. “I’m sure Markus will fit you in tomorrow.”
They stared at each other, and Peter’s frustration grew. “Why are you doing this? My father needs my help.”
“Peter.” Marisa’s expression softened. “I know that. Penelope has gone to ask Markus to send troops with us.”
“Troops? Are things worse than he’s told me?”
“I can’t answer that, but I’ll tell you something I told Kel and Farrell. You can never have enough troops when you head off to a battle.” Marisa put her hand on Peter’s shoulder. “I know you wish to be off immediately. Believe that I understand your mood better than most, but this is the wisest course of action. A day or two’s delay will be worth the wait if we bring legions with us instead on one or two swords.”
Peter knew she was correct, but his heart wanted to be there yesterday. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“There are always choices,” she said. “But if you try on your own, it will take you many times longer than if we wait for Penelope to return.”
“What say you?” Peter asked Wallace.
“I’ll follow you if you leave.”
He heard the hesitation in his friend’s voice. “But?”
“It depends on what you want more. If your only desire is to reach your father, we can use Belsport’s embassy to send you home now. But we’d be only twelve swords to join his army—assuming we meet no resistance on the way.”
Peter nodded at that unlikely happenstance.
“If you want to help your father, truly bring him aid, we need to wait for Penelope and Marisa. As she said, several legions three days later are worth far more than our twelve tomorrow.”
“I know you’re right, but I feel like I should do something now.”
“You are doing something now,” Marisa said. “You’re raising an army.”
“Right.” It didn’t make him feel any less anxious, but he knew it was for the best.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Miceral stared at the blank wall where Penelope’s Door had been. He didn’t like someone forcing their will on him, but he saw no options. If Penelope planned to indulge Peter and bring an army from Dumbarten into the west, he had no choice.
“What do you think?” he asked his father.
“I think we need to speak to the others,” Horgon said.
Miceral shook his head. “No, the last thing I want is to meet with the exiled rulers to ask their opinion. It would be hours of wasted discussion.”
“I agree, but I only meant Rothdin and Klissmor. They know more about what the Six plan than anyone else in Haven.”
He hadn’t thought about it in those terms, but what Horgon said made sense. “Klissmor?”
“How may I assist you?”
“Penelope is raising an army in Dumbarten to bring to Wilhelm’s aid. Father and I would like to speak to you and Rothdin before we decide what to do next.” Miceral envied Farrell’s link with Nerti. Not that he could bring himself to give even Klissmor access to his thoughts all the time, but it had its uses. “Let me show you the conversation I just had with the princess.”
He felt Klissmor’s touch and opened his mind. Klissmor remained only for a moment. “I have shared your thoughts with Rothdin. Would you like to discuss this in person or can we speak this way?”
“If you can link us together, this way would be faster.”
“Done.”
“Greetings, mate of my son, and to you as well, old friend, Horgon,” Rothdin said. “Give us your thoughts, and we will give you ours.”
“I have many,” Horgon said. “When we received Zenora’s request for aid, we were planning to send some additional wizards but no troops. We’ve told Christian and Heldin many times we will not send an army to their aid. If we bring legions to aid Wilhelm, they will rightfully believe we lied to them.
“If we do nothing, Garreth will likely defeat Wilhelm and his allies. That will give Meglar a large army at our western gates. Although I value my honor, I must protect Haven and all who reside here.”
“Just as we must do what is best for our subjects,” Klissmor said. “Farrell refused to send aid to Honal and Pelipan, not any of us. If we four decide it is wise to aid Wilhelm, Farrell isn’t here to disagree.”
“Not that he would,” Miceral said. “I’m sure he wouldn’t care what the others think if it was the right decision.”
“I disagree,” Rothdin said. “If you plan to use troops from Respital and Arvendia, those kings will wonder why you didn’t come to their aid. At the time Farrell and Clement had said the Six forbade it, and They did. There has been no change in those instructions.”
Miceral didn’t like where the discussion was headed. “It is your advice we send no help?”
“The Six have not removed Their order not to confront Meglar away from Haven,” Rothdin said.
“I agree,” Klissmor said. “But I believe that only applies when Meglar leads the fight, not his minions and their armies.”
“You do?” Miceral didn’t think the Six wanted them to look for ways around Their prohibition.
“Yes. The Six have allowed us to oppose Meglar’s attempts to use others to achieve his goals,” Klissmor said. “I believe the reason Farrell isn’t allowed to confront his father is to bring Meglar to Gharaha.”
Miceral looked to his father. Horgon paused before nodding. “The Six allowed us to send troops to Belsport. They allowed Farrell to invade Yar-del with Kel and the Arlefors. And though none of us can say we know the will of the Six, They have been quick to tell us not to do something when it runs counter to Their will.
“Unless they forbid it, I am in favor of sending help.”
That did seem the best course. If they weren’t allowed, the Six would let them know either directly or through a messenger. The worst that could happen would be the Six stepping in to stop them before
they left.
Seeing no objections, he nodded once to his father. “Agreed. Can you notify the commanders?”
“Speak to the other dwarf kings,” Klissmor said. “They will be offended if the king of Trellham did not consult with them before marching out to war.”
Miceral didn’t love the idea. Dealing with Thrinton and Drendar would take time he didn’t have to spare. But Klissmor was correct. He’d insult them if he didn’t let them “join the fun.” “Agreed. I’ll send for their ambassadors.”
Jagwin barked a command and Miceral frowned. He understood Farrell’s aversion to always having a guard detail. It was a simple meeting with Drendar and Thrinton to explain what he needed and when. The time difference with Colograd required an extra day. Miceral used the time to marshal an appropriate force. He didn’t expect asking for a meeting would cause an extra half-day delay.
Because they were sending a force to help other kingdoms, Miceral had to convene a war council. Since there hadn’t been one called in three thousand years, it took half a day to research the protocols. Finally, Drendar sent word he didn’t care about old laws and asked Miceral to come to Fracturn.
They arrived in front of a set of doors identical to the ones in Colograd, where the kings first met. Although he’d never seen it, Miceral knew Trellham also had such a room. Miceral noticed Jagwin staring intently at the other contingent of dwarves. The other captains were doing the same thing.
Miceral shook his head. Dwarves. In theory he understood the need for such precise rules. It eliminated any discussion on how many soldiers a king should bring. That cut down on the number of unintended insults between kings. Given the relationship he shared with Drendar and Thrinton, however, the rules made life harder, not easier.
Drendar and Thrinton ended their conversation when he entered.
“Welcome to Fracturn, Brother,” Drendar said with a broad grin. “It is high time you visited.”
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