David Coe - Shapers of Darkness

Once in the corridor, he hurried to the nearest tower and ascended the stairs to the ramparts. His head throbbed and he nearly lost his balance on the stairway. He needed time to think, but he found it difficult to clear his mind. Two guards stood at the top of the tower, but they merely nodded to him and stayed where they were as he stepped past them and walked out onto the castle wall.

Just when he most needed to turn the Eandi in Castle Solkara to his purposes, he found himself unable to influence them at all. It seemed that events were spiraling beyond his control. Numar didn’t trust him; Chofya opposed him; and after today Henthas would be wary of him as well, no matter what the duke remembered from their encounter. If he could rely on his mind-bending magic, none of this would matter, but without it he was lost. He remained a powerful sorcerer, but delusion magic only worked on the unsuspecting and it suddenly seemed that no one in Castle Solkara trusted him, at least no one of any importance. It was just a matter of time before the Weaver returned to his dreams, learned of his newest failures, and killed him in his sleep.

For as long as the archminister could remember he had seen the movement as his path to glory and power. Now it seemed that it would bring his doom, that he wouldn’t even live to see its final success. Yet even as he struggled with his fear and his self-pity, the archminister sensed the kernel of an idea forming in the recesses of his mind. There remained one to whom he could turn, one who could help him redeem himself by remedying all that had gone wrong. He wouldn’t even have to use his magic against her. The pain still lingered at the base of his skull, but it had lessened a bit, enough so that he could get through this one last encounter.

He heard bells tolling in the city and actually managed a smile as he strode to the stairway in the next tower. Midday. He knew just where she would be.

Kalyi was on her feet as soon as the bells rang, gathering her scrolls in her arms and hurrying toward the door.

Zarev, her tutor, frowned as he watched her, his bushy grey eyebrows bristling like quills on a hedgehog, but the young queen pretended not to notice.

“Your Highness, you really must try to concentrate. I don’t think you’ve learned nearly as much as you should during the last few turns, and I fear your mother will not be pleased.”

She turned to face him, though she reached for the door handle with a free hand. “I’ve learned a lot, teacher. Truly I have. And if I haven’t learned as much as I should, I’ll make certain that Mother knows it was my fault and not yours.”

“That’s hardly the point-”

“I really have to go.” She smiled. By now she’d opened the door. “My thanks.”

She spun on her heel and was in the corridor before Zarev could say more. The last she saw of him, his frown had deepened and he was shaking his head.

No doubt he would speak with her mother at his first opportunity, which would lead in turn to another stern talk from her mother about the importance of her lessons. But how could she be expected to learn on such a perfect day? Even in the small chamber where she met with her tutors for her daily lessons, with its single narrow window, she could smell the clean air and feel the warm breezes blowing off the river. This was a day to be out-of-doors. Perhaps she could even prevail upon her mother to go riding after the midday meal, provided she found Chofya before the tutor did.

Reaching the nearest of the towers, she started down the stairs. She had only taken a few steps, however, when she heard a voice call from above her.

“Is that you, Your Highness?”

The archminister. Kalyi had to resist an urge to flee. Ever since overhearing Pronjed’s strange conversation with the master of arms, a conversation in which the Qirsi had seemed to force the armsmaster to do and say certain things, she had been terrified of the man. Uncle Numar thought that he might be a traitor, a part of the Qirsi conspiracy she had heard so much about over the past year. They had no proof of this, at least not yet. And the regent had told her that when she saw the archminister she had to try to behave normally.

“We mustn’t let him know that we suspect anything,” he had said. “If we show that we’re afraid of him, he might guess at what we’re thinking, and then we’ll never find the proof we need.”

She understood, but she couldn’t help but feel afraid every time the Qirsi came near her. Recently, she had come to fear all the white-hairs in the castle, though she knew better than to believe that they were all traitors. She just couldn’t help herself.

Swallowing and willing herself to be brave, Kalyi stopped on the stairs and waited.

“Yes, Archminister,” she said, pleased to hear that her voice didn’t shake. “It’s me.”

He descended the steps until he stood before her, appearing even taller and more formidable than usual in the narrow stairway. The dim light of the tower made his narrow, bony face look frightening and strange, like that of some evil bird of prey from Bian’s realm. Once more, Kalyi had to resist an urge to back away from him.

“I’m glad I found you, Your Highness. I have important matters to discuss with you.”

“Actually, I was on my way to the kitchens to find something to eat-”

“Splendid. You don’t mind if I walk with you, do you?”

What could she say? “No, Archminister. Of course not.”

“Good.” He indicated the stairs with an open hand.

Kalyi started down once more, the Qirsi just behind her. Her whole body had gone rigid, and she half expected him to plunge a dagger into her back. When they emerged from the tower into the castle ward, she began to feel better. He wasn’t quite so scary in the bright sun.

“I spoke with your mother a short time ago,” the archminister told her. “She’s concerned about this war the regent is planning.” He paused, glancing at her. “You have heard talk of the war, haven’t you, Your Highness?”

“Of course,” she said, insulted that he had to ask. “We’re entering into an alliance with the emperor of Braedon in order to fight Eibithar.”

“Yes, precisely. I believe your mother opposes the war. She feels it’s not the correct way to begin your reign.”

Kalyi hadn’t heard her mother say anything of the sort. In fact, thinking about it, she realized that her mother had never spoken to her of the war at all. It occurred to her that the archminister might be lying.

“Do you agree with her?” the queen asked.

“Actually, I don’t. I’ve long been in favor of the alliance and the attack on Eibithar.” His brow creased. “Still. .” He paused, as if lost in thought. Finally he shook his head and smiled, though Kalyi could see that he remained troubled. “It’s not important.”

“What isn’t?”

“Well, it’s just that your mother isn’t the only one who’s against the war. The dukes of Orvinti and Dantrielle oppose it as well, and so do several of their allies.”

They had reached the entrance to the kitchen tower, and they halted there, lingering in the ward.

“Why are they against it?”

“I believe they don’t trust Braedon’s emperor; they don’t want him as an ally.” He hesitated. “And I fear they don’t trust your uncle, either.”

“You mean Uncle Numar?”

He nodded.

“Why wouldn’t they trust him?” she demanded, growing angry.

“The same reason they didn’t trust your father. The same reason I’m afraid they won’t trust you. They fear the Solkaran Supremacy. They don’t want our house to grow too powerful.”

Kalyi shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“Wars are strange things, Your Highness. They can weaken us, or they can make us stronger. Quite often a war strengthens the royal house, because it’s the king or queen who leads the army.”