David Coe - Shapers of Darkness

“You’re right,” Tebeo said. “They do know, and chances are that the others will learn of it eventually. But knowing is one thing, voting in the council to execute you and censure your house is quite another.”

Censure of a house was no small matter. As described in the laws governing Aneira’s Council of Dukes, censure included confiscation of lands, vast increases in royal fees, and suspension of council voting privileges. Even if Grestos was executed, his sons might be forced to pay for their father’s error for years to come.

“What’s all this about, Tebeo? What is it you want from me?”

“I want the Solkaran Supremacy ended, once and for all.”

“You have that already. You’ve defeated Numar’s army-”

“Only half of it.”

“More than half, from what he told me. The point is, you’ve beaten him, and you already have enough votes in the council.”

Tebeo halted in front of the man and squatted down to look him in the eye. “I want more than that. I want the vote to be so overwhelming as to give Henthas no hope of reclaiming the throne. If the council vote breaks six to three, he’ll consider that he might still have strength enough to strike at the new king. I want him isolated and weak.”

“You should be talking to Rowan. Mertesse is far stronger than Rassor.”

“Rowan’s house may be strong, but he’s not a bold man. He won’t stand alone with Henthas, knowing how the Jackal is hated throughout the realm. If you join with the rest of us in the council, Rowan will follow, and the Solkaran Supremacy will truly be broken.”

Grestos grinned, though the look in his eyes remained hard. “You covet the crown for yourself.”

Tebeo straightened and stepped to the chamber’s narrow window. “Again, you echo the regent. The fact is, I don’t wish to be king.” Glancing back and seeing the doubt on Rassor’s face, Tebeo smiled. “I don’t claim that I’ve never wanted the crown, but I’m too old for it now. Besides, I don’t have a mind for politics, and I’m not warrior enough to lead the realm into battle.”

“Then who?”

For the first time since entering the chamber, Evanthya saw her duke hesitate, as if unsure of himself.

“I’ll find out soon enough, Tebeo.”

“First I want your word that you’ll side with us in the council.”

Grestos shrugged. “What choice do I have?”

“You could betray us. Pledge yourself-to us now and support Henthas when the time comes.”

The man bristled. “I would never do such a thing! When a Rassor gives an oath, he honors it! That’s been true of every man who has ever ruled my house, and it’s true of me! You may consider me an enemy, Tebeo. I have no doubt that you dislike me. But I fought beside Numar because I had sworn to do so. You’re the one who withdrew your support from the supremacy, you and Kett and the others. I have always been true to my word, and I will be now.”

“Then you’ll oppose Henthas?”

“I’ve never liked the man. I certainly have no desire to see him as king or regent.”

“And if we choose to spare Numar’s life?”

“I’ll oppose him as well. I swear it.”

Evanthya sensed no deception in his words. She couldn’t be certain of course-her powers didn’t run that deep-but she believed that he would honor his oath. Tebeo seemed to think so as well, judging from the look of relief on his face.

“Thank you, Grestos. In return, I’ll make certain that your life is spared and your house is subject to no formal punishment.”

“Does that mean that I can leave your prison?”

“I’ll need to inform the others first, particularly Ansis, but yes, I’ll release you.”

Grestos raised an eyebrow. “Will I have to wait until Kett agrees to this? If so, I could be in here for years.”

“I didn’t say he had to approve. I just want to tell him first.”

Rassor seemed skeptical.

“You’ll be free within a day. I promise.”

Grestos still didn’t appear convinced, but he nodded. “So, who will be your new king?”

“I can’t be sure, of course. Not until I’ve discussed it with the rest of the council. But I expect it will be Silbron.”

“The boy?”

“He’s nearly a’year past his Fating and Brall told me that losing his father has tempered him, made him mature beyond his years. He’s young still, but Silbron is no boy. And he has Ria with him. The duchess is every bit as clever as Chago was, and knows a good deal about Aneira’s other houses.”

“All that may be true, but I have to wonder if the other houses will follow such a young king.”

“He’s a thoughtful man, and he commands the strongest army in Aneira. Indeed, he’s that much stronger for having kept his house out of this war.”

“Won’t that make him suspect in the eyes of Kett and the rest?”

“I doubt it. He’s a Bistari. No one doubts that he hates the Solkarans. And by remaining neutral, he’s made himself more acceptable to Mertesse.”

Grestos gave a small shrug. “Very well, Tebeo. I’ve given you my word. If Silbron’s your choice then so be it. He’ll have my vote in the council.”

Tebeo nodded and crossed to the door. “Thank you, Lord Rassor.”

“I think you’re mistaken about one thing, though,” Grestos said, drawing Tebeo’s gaze once more. “You have more skill with politics than you think. If you can truly manage to convince Kett to agree to all this, you’d make a fine king indeed.”

Tebeo grinned and left the chamber, with Evanthya following close behind. This time, she knew enough to say nothing until they were in the stairway, and even then she kept her voice to a whisper.

“Silbron, my lord? Are you certain?”

“There is no one else, First Minister. If Brall still lived, he’d be my first choice. But his death leaves Silbron and me, and having led the rebellion against House Solkara, I can’t take the throne for Dantrielle without making it seem that all I’ve done was driven by ambition. That’s not how I wish to be remembered.”

Evanthya had to smile. This was why she continued to serve her duke. Any Qirsi who dared say that all Eandi nobles were alike had only to listen to Tebeo of Dantrielle to be proven wrong. “Yes, my lord,” she said.

The sound of tolling bells reached them in the stairway, echoing softly.

“Is that the prior’s bell already?” the duke asked.

“It is, my lord.” Perhaps he would postpone his conversation with Pronjed until the next day. Perhaps, given a bit more time, he would think better of speaking with the archminister at all. Would that he were so easily dissuaded.

“We’d better hurry then,” her duke said. “I dine with the other dukes this evening, and first I want to meet with Numar’s minister.”

The prison was nothing. Stone and iron. He could shatter both with a mere thought, and would when the time came. They had bound his wrists and ankles with silk, fearing that he would shatter iron manacles, but he would find a way to free himself from these bonds as well. Nor did he concern himself with the guards who stood beyond the chamber door. With his mind-bending magic he could turn the Eandi brutes to his purposes whenever he chose. For those who proved less pliable, he still had his shaping power, which worked just as well on bone as it did on rock and steel. The army that awaited him beyond the tower presented a somewhat more formidable challenge, but Pronjed felt certain that he could find his way past a thousand men if he had to.

And he did have to. The Weaver had ordered him north, to Eibithar, where fighting between Kearney’s army and the soldiers of the empire had already begun, and where, quite soon, the Weaver intended to commence his own war.