David Coe - Shapers of Darkness

“Now for the third time,” he said, once they were gone, “what do you want?”

“I want to know if you’ve spoken with your brother recently.”

“My lord.”

Pronjed blinked. “What?”

“ ‘I want to know if you’ve spoken with your brother recently, my lord.’ I’m duke of Solkara, Archminister. You often seem to forget that.”

Pronjed gave a brittle smile. “How could I, my lord?”

Henthas said nothing, and cursing the man inwardly, the archminister surrendered the point.

“I was wondering if you had spoken with your brother recently, my lord.”

The duke smiled broadly. “Much better. As it happens we spoke yesterday. Why do you wish to know?”

“He’s told me little of his preparations for war, and even less of what he intends to do about Dantrielle and the dukes who oppose him. I thought perhaps you could tell me what you know.”

Henthas watched him for several moments, then shook his head. “No, I don’t think I will.”

Pronjed bit his tongue, tasting blood. “May I ask why?” he said at last, fighting to keep his voice even.

“If Numar has chosen to keep you ignorant of such matters, I can only assume that he has good reason. Far be it from me to work at cross purposes with my own brother.”

The minister would have laughed aloud had he not been so enraged. Henthas had, at one time or another, been working at cross purposes with everyone in the castle, including his brother. Especially his brother.

“It wasn’t long ago, my lord, that you and I were working together to protect the queen from the regent. The threat to her remains, and I needn’t remind you that the stronger Numar becomes, the less likely it is that you will ever be in a position to claim the throne for yourself.”

“Have you spoken to Chofya of the threat to her daughter?”

“Not yet, no.”

“I’m surprised. If you truly feared for the queen’s life you would have by now.”

Pronjed crossed the chamber and sat in a chair near the duke. He needed to be close to the man in order to use magic on him. “You’ve allied yourself with him, haven’t you?”

Henthas shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

The minister smiled, but even as he did, he reached out with his power and touched the duke’s mind. “What did he offer you?”

“He offered nothing,” the man said, his face abruptly growing slack, a dull look in his dark eyes. “He told me that he fears you, that he thinks you might have killed Carden.”

Pronjed gaped at him. It was the last thing he expected the duke to say. The truth was he had killed Carden, by using his mind-bending magic to make the king plunge a dagger into his own chest. “Why does he think that?”

“He wouldn’t say. But he thinks you’re far more dangerous than we ever believed, and he convinced me of this as well.”

Numar must have known that he possessed mind-bending power. There was no other explanation for what Henthas had said, particularly since the minister’s power no longer worked on the regent.

“Tell me of Numar’s plans,” he finally commanded. Delusion was the most taxing of all his powers, and already he was tiring.

“There’s little to tell. He’s mustering a thousand more men into the army and sending most of them north to the Tarbin. When the naval war begins, they’ll attack.”

“And the dukes to the south?”

“Numar doesn’t believe they pose much of a threat. They oppose the war, but they haven’t the nerve to defy him openly.”

“So he has no intention of sending any part of his army to Orvinti or Dantrielle?”

“No.”

“Damn,” he said under his breath. He rubbed a hand over his face. This wasn’t going any better than had his conversation with Chofya. “And the girl? When does he plan to kill her?”

“He doesn’t, at least not for a long while. I think he’s grown fond of her.”

Just as Pronjed had suspected. At least that much of what he had told the Weaver was true. Weighing all that he had learned during the course of this morning, however, the archminister realized that matters were a good deal worse than he had feared. Numar, through cunning, or just good fortune, had managed to isolate him. He had befriended the young queen, he had won Henthas’s loyalty, at least for a time. And though Pronjed didn’t believe that Chofya would ally herself with the regent so long as he continued to pursue this war, he knew-and Numar must have as well-that she wanted no part of court politics anymore. She was content to raise her daughter and cultivate her gardens. Certainly, she was not about to take sides in any dispute between the regent and the archminister.

“What about me?” he asked, knowing that he couldn’t hold the duke’s mind for much longer. “Is he content simply to weaken my influence, or does he have something else in mind?”

“For now he plans nothing. But eventually he intends to prove that you’re a traitor, and have you executed.”

He should have expected as much. Still, hearing the words spoken made him shudder. He could only hope that the Weaver would move against the courts before Numar had a chance to destroy him.

Pronjed felt a dull ache at the base of his skull, and he knew that he had used his delusion magic for too long.

“You’ll remember nothing of this discussion when we’re done,” he said, his eyes locked on those of the duke. “We’ve spoken of the queen, and our desire to keep her safe. That’s all. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

The archminister nodded and released him. “Does that mean you think we should double the guard on her bedchamber?” he asked, as if in the middle of a conversation.

“What?” Henthas squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, then put a hand to his temple.

“Are you well, my lord?”

“No. My head hurts, and I can’t remember what I was saying.”

“You were telling me of your concern for Kalyi’s safety. You seemed to believe that she’s in some danger.”

“I don’t recall any of that.” He eyed the archminister warily. “What have you done to me?”

“I’ve done nothing, my lord,” Pronjed said, his heart pounding. Was this what had happened with Numar as well? Was he growing weak? At thirty-one he wasn’t an old man, not even by Qirsi standards. But neither was he young anymore. “Would you like me to call for the castle surgeon?”

“No.” Henthas made a vague gesture toward the door. “Leave me. I don’t want you near me anymore.” He was still rubbing his temple, as if in pain, and Pronjed wondered if he had damaged the man’s mind. That was said to happen occasionally when mind-bending magic was used carelessly. Had he held the duke under his power for too long?

“I’m concerned for you, my lord. Surely there’s something-”

“Get out!” Henthas said, getting to his feet and stumbling slightly. “Leave this chamber at once or I’ll have you removed!”

He had little choice but to try one last time. Reaching out with his magic once more, all too aware of how weary he was, the archminister touched the man’s mind a second time. “You’re angry with me because I suggested that you intend to harm the queen. You’ve forgotten the pain in your head.”

Pronjed released the duke again, watching him closely. Henthas’s hand strayed to his head again, but remained there for just a moment before falling to his side.

“Perhaps I should go, my lord,” the archminister said, keeping his voice low. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

The duke frowned, appearing puzzled. “Perhaps not,” he said. “But you shouldn’t have spoken to me so.”

“You’re right, my lord. My apologies.”

He bowed to the man and quickly left the chamber, fearing that if he remained any longer it would only serve to undermine the memories he had planted in the duke’s mind.