David Coe - Shapers of Darkness

“No, it’s not! The one leads naturally to the other. Siding with Kentigern has no purpose if you intend to turn around and fight beside Kearney in defense of his kingdom.”

“His kingdom is my kingdom! If I allow it to be destroyed-”

She closed her eyes briefly, the way she did when she lost patience with one of their boys. “No one’s suggesting that you allow it to be destroyed, Renald. Even now men march toward Galdasten from Curgh, Thorald, and Heneagh, as well as from the City of Kings.”

Had she overheard the reports he received from Ewan’s scouts? He could almost imagine her standing in the corridor outside his ducal chambers, an ear to his door. He had every right to be angry with her, but he just nodded dully, unable to say anything.

“The realm isn’t about to fall, at least not yet. And before it does, you can step in and save it. But for now, your first duty is to the defense of this castle, and the people of Galdasten City. Rather than marching out to battle with Ewan, you should be readying your fortress for a siege.”

“Kearney would see through that in a moment.”

“I don’t care about Kearney, and neither should you. The question is, what will the people of Galdasten think? Do you believe that they wish to give their sons and husbands over to this king? What will our allies in Eardley and Sussyn think? What will they say in Domnall and Rennach?”

“Some of them may join with Kearney.”

“Perhaps. But isn’t it just as possible that they’ll look to Galdasten before deciding what to do?”

The duke glanced at her. Sunlight shone in her brown eyes, making them appear warm, almost loving. He looked away quickly. It seemed likely that the other houses were doing just what she said: waiting for Galdasten to choose its course so that they might follow. She questioned whether he had courage enough to fight a war. Didn’t it require just as much nerve to lead a rebellion?

“What if Ewan won’t follow me? What if his men won’t?”

“They’re not his men, they’re yours. And they’ll all follow you if you act like a king.” She touched his cheek with a warm hand, forcing him to meet her gaze. “The men of this house have no love for Curgh, and though they’ve had no reason to hate Glyndwr before now, Lady Brienne’s death has changed that. If you lead them as you would a rebellion, they may see you as a traitor and defy you. But if you make it clear to them that you fight to restore justice to the realm, that you fight to return Galdasten to its rightful place among the leading houses of Eibithar, they’ll follow you anywhere.”

He was frightened, and he wanted to tell her so. But such intimacy had been lost to them years ago. Or so he thought.

“When I married you, when you were still thane of Lynde, I saw daring in you, and ambition, and strength.” She took both of his hands. “That’s why I fell in love with you. Since we’ve come to Galdasten, since you’ve become the duke of a house that no longer has any future, I’ve seen those qualities fade until I feared that they were gone entirely. But this is your chance to find them again, to realize the promise that I glimpsed in you all those years ago. You can have power and wealth.” She leaned toward him, kissing him softly on the lips. “You can have me again.”

He must have been mad. It had been so long since they had loved one another that Renald wasn’t entirely certain it was even possible for them to begin again. Still, even without her love, he knew that he wanted the throne nearly as much as she wanted it for him. He was tired of feeling weak and lost, of sensing her contempt and disdain in every glance she cast his way. But more to the point, he’d had enough of leading an emasculated house. Why should Galdasten suffer so for the act of a madman? Yes, the pestilence had wiped out Kell and his family. But why should their ill fortune doom his house to obscurity and powerlessness for so many generations? Damned be the Rules of Ascension! Damned be Kearney and Javan and all the others who would keep the sons of Galdasten from the Oaken Throne! Let them fall to the emperor’s army. When the time came, he would raise his sword and drive the invaders from Eibithar’s shores. And when the war was won, he would claim the crown as his own.

“All right,” he said, smiling at her.

A look of genuine surprise flitted across her face. “Really?”

“As you say, what was the purpose of siding with Aindreas if not to wrest the crown from Glyndwr?”

“What of Ewan?”

“I’ll give him his orders and he’ll do as I command. He may not approve, but he’s a good soldier. He’ll follow my orders.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

“And the Qirsi?”

“Pillad? I haven’t spoken to him about any of this in nearly two turns. Even if he has an opinion on the matter one way or another, he knows better than to voice it.”

“You have someone watching him?”

“There’s no need. He may still be first minister in name, but he has no influence anymore. He might as well be counseling another duke.”

“Then why not send him away?”

“I will, when all of this is over. Once I have the crown, every Qirsi in Eibithar will want to serve in my court. But for now, sending him away without replacing him will only make me appear weak. And it may embolden those who believe that the conspiracy was behind Brienne’s murder.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m impressed, Renald. Very impressed. Even I hadn’t thought of that.”

He smiled, knowing that he shouldn’t let her see how much her praise pleased him, but unable to help himself.

“Still,” she said. “I think you should have someone keeping an eye on the man. He is Qirsi, after all.”

“I have other matters to occupy my time, all of them far more pressing than Pillad, but I’ll try to remember to say something to Ewan.”

She nodded once. “Good. Now go. See to the defense of your castle. If Galdasten falls, all else is lost.”

He hesitated a moment, hoping she would kiss him again, ashamed of himself for caring. When she merely turned to look out at the king’s fleet, he left her, feeling his cheeks redden.

Fearing that his nerve would fail him before the ringing of the prior’s bells, Renald sought out the swordmaster immediately. He found him in the armory, squatting beside a pile of old swords, speaking in low tones with one of his captains.

“I thought we were to speak later, my lord,” Ewan said, as both men stood.

The duke nodded to the captain before facing his swordmaster. “Yes, well, I wished to discuss some things with you now.”

“Of course, my lord.” Ewan looked at the captain. “Have these blades cleaned and oiled. Then do the same with the shields. I want all of these weapons battle-ready by nightfall.”

“Yes, swordmaster.”

Ewan and the duke left the armory, both of them squinting in the bright sunlight.

“I’m sorry if I angered the duchess today, my lord. I meant no offense.”

Renald winced. “Think nothing of it, swordmaster. My wife feels the strain of the coming war, just as we all do.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“I want you to make preparations to guard the castle and city in the event of a siege. We won’t be meeting the emperor’s forces on the strand, nor will we attempt to halt their advance inland.”

Ewan gaped at the duke as if Renald had just told him to raze the towers and execute his own men. “But. . my lord, this is. . this is lunacy.”

Normally he wouldn’t have tolerated such a statement, but he could see the man struggling with what he had just said and he thought it best to allow the swordmaster some time to overcome his shock.

“I know that it seems that way, Ewan-”