David Coe - Shapers of Darkness

Not that my powers will do us any good . She kept this thought to herself, and a moment later the captain relented, leaving Tebeo and Evanthya to climb the tower stairs on their own.

The guard outside the regent’s chamber unlocked the door for the duke and the first minister, but remained in the corridor when they entered. Numar stood at the far end of the round chamber, shackled to the stone wall, his uniform torn and soiled, his hair, normally the color of wheat, now matted and dark. Yet even amid the filth, a prisoner in his enemy’s castle, the regent held himself straight and tall, with the regal bearing of a man who thought himself king.

“Come to gloat, Tebeo?” Numar said, a sardonic smile springing to his lips and then vanishing just as quickly.

“I didn’t want this war, Lord Rembrere, and I take no satisfaction in its ending. Too many men were lost on both sides.”

“A fine sentiment, Tebeo, but you don’t fool me. You and your friends have been hoping for an end to the Solkaran Supremacy for some time now. I can’t believe you aren’t celebrating its downfall.”

The duke glared at him, his eyes glittering like dark crystal in the torch fire. “Believe what you will. I don’t give a damn. I’ve come to inform you that messengers have been dispatched to the other houses informing them of your defeat and imprisonment and asking the other dukes to Dantrielle for a meeting of the council.”

“You intend to claim the throne for yourself and your sons.”

“Actually, I don’t. I’m not certain who will be chosen as the next king. But I know it won’t be you or your brother.”

“And what about Kalyi? Are you willing to deny her the throne as well? Where is the justice in that, Tebeo? She’s but a child. She had nothing to do with this.”

The duke shook his head, disbelief and disgust mingling on his round features. “You bastard. You wage war on my house in her name, using your power as regent to tear apart our realm. And you have the gall to blame me for the end of your damned supremacy?”

“You’re the one who defied me, Tebeo. You’re a traitor, and before this is over, I’ll do everything in my power to see that you hang for your betrayal.”

The duke smiled, the cruelest, most terrible smile Evanthya had ever seen on his lips. “You’d need the council behind you to do that, Lord Rembrere, and I already have five votes out of nine. Six if you count the new duke of Bistari-surely you can’t think that he’ll vote with you on anything of substance.” He shook his head again. “No, if one of us is going to hang, it will be you. The second Renbrere to hang in less than a year. Poor Henthas is going to be rather lonely.”

The regent had paled, though he stood just as tall, his eyes narrowed. “You’re weakening us. You know that, don’t you? We have an opportunity to destroy Eibithar, to make our kingdom stronger than it’s ever been. And you’re choosing this moment to end the supremacy. It almost seems that you want us to fail, Tebeo. That won’t be lost on the others.”

“You weakened us, Numar, not I. You entered into this foolish alliance with the empire-”

“The alliance is the source of our strength!”

“The alliance is a mistake! Eibithar isn’t our enemy, at least not the one that matters! Neither is Caerisse, nor Sanbira, nor Wethyrn! The Qirsi renegades are the real threat, and anything that distracts us from fighting them puts all the realm at risk. A wiser leader would have realized this. But you’re besotted with the idea of making war on the Eibitharians. And in pursuit of this folly, you’ve divided our army and set house against house.”

“I don’t have to listen to this!” The regent turned his head to the side. Evanthya had the feeling that he would have turned his back on them were it not for his shackles. “Leave me! Leave me at once!”

Evanthya thought that her duke would refuse, that he would continue to berate the man. That was what she would have done. But Tebeo merely stared at the regent for a few moments, watching as Numar’s jaw clenched and his chest rose and fell. Then he turned and stepped to the door, gesturing for the first minister to do the same. The guard opened the door, allowing them back into the corridor before closing it again and turning the latch key.

Evanthya looked at her duke, who was gazing at the chamber door, as if he could see Numar through the iron. “My lord, do you think he can convince-?”

Tebeo raised a hand, stopping her. He entered the stairwell and the minister followed. Neither of them spoke until they had gone down to the lower corridor.

Grestos, the duke of Rassor, was in the largest of the chambers here, but Tebeo stopped just outside the stairway and faced her. “Now,” he said in a low voice, “what were you going to ask?”

“I was just wondering if you thought there was a chance Numar could convince the other dukes that you betrayed the realm.”

“No, I don’t. Oh, Mertesse and Rassor will go to their graves believing that I did, but the others know better. This is precisely why Brall and I went to such great lengths to build an alliance prior to opposing Numar’s war. Noltierre, Tounstrel, Kett, Orvinti-they were all with us. And though Silbron wasn’t, no duke of Bistari would ever side with a Solkaran in such a dispute.”

“Then what will happen to the regent? Do you really expect that he’ll be hanged?”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed a hand over his face, as if considering the matter. But he said nothing, and after several moments he turned on his heel and strode to the duke of Rassor’s door.

Unlike Numar, Grestos was sitting on the stone floor, his back against the wall. One leg was folded beneath him, but the other was stretched out straight, a heavy bandage wrapped around the thigh.

“Lord Rassor,” Tebeo said. “I trust your wound is healing well.”

Grestos glowered at him from beneath a shock of white hair, his eyes blue and shockingly pale in a tanned, leathery face. “What do you want, Dantrielle? Have you come to put my nose in it?”

Tebeo smiled thinly, though Evanthya thought she first saw a brief flash of anger in his dark eyes. “Numar asked me much the same thing. It seems neither of you thinks very highly of me.”

Grestos stared at the floor. “You’ve been to see Numar, too? Are you here to tell us when we’re to be executed?”

“I told the regent what I’ll tell you. I’ve sent messages to the dukes who aren’t already here, informing them of Numar’s surrender and summoning them to a meeting of the Council of Dukes.”

“You intend to bring an end to the supremacy.”

“How can I do less?” Tebeo paused, wandering the chamber and eyeing the duke. “I made no mention of you in my messages,” he said at last.

Grestos looked up again. “They’ll know soon enough that I fought alongside him.” But Evanthya thought she saw a flicker of hope in his eyes.

“They don’t have to, Grestos. I can prevail upon the dukes who fought with me to say nothing of your involvement.”

“Kett would never agree to that.”

“He would if I ask it of him.”

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Most of the dukes are here already. We’re really only speaking of Rowan and Silbron.”

“And Brall’s son. He won’t have known either.”

“How would you keep Henthas quiet? He’ll speak against me just out of spite.”

“Henthas is disgraced along with his house. No one will care what he has to say.”

Rassor’s duke shook his head again. “All of this is meaningless. Enough of them know what I’ve done.”

Evanthya watched her duke, unsure as to where he was going with all of this. She had never heard him utter a kind word about Grestos, nor did she think that his allies in this war would be willing to forgive Rassor for casting his lot with the Solkarans.