David Coe - Shapers of Darkness

“The realm is at risk, my lord. The enemy is coming to Galdasten, but he strikes at all of Eibithar.”

“Yes, he does. Which is why Kearney and his allies are already converging on Galdasten. But if we simply join the king’s forces and surrender ourselves to his authority, we, in effect, accept him as our legitimate sovereign. I’m not prepared to do that.”

Renald had expected that the swordmaster would continue to argue the point. To the man’s credit, though, he appeared to weigh the duke’s words. When at last he spoke, he sounded calmer, as if he had taken to heart what Renald told him.

“What is it you intend to do?” he asked. “Surely you won’t allow the empire’s forces to conquer Eibithar.”

“Of course not. I wish to be king, Ewan. And I expect my son to follow me to the throne. I have every reason to want to preserve the realm. But our first duty must be to Galdasten. I want to keep her strong, and if the king’s army is weakened as a result of that, all the better.”

“So we allow the king and his allies to bear the brunt of Braedon’s assault,” the swordmaster said. “And when it seems that he’s about to be defeated, we come to his aid, leading Eardley, Domnall, and the other houses.”

Renald had to smile. Ewan might have been limited in many ways, but he could be clever at times, and he served the House of Galdasten well. “Precisely, swordmaster. We’ll be the ones who save the realm, who atone for Kearney’s failure.”

“We’re playing a dangerous game, my lord. We’re risking a great deal for. .” He looked away, seemingly unwilling to complete the thought.

“For my ambition?”

“Forgive me, my lord. I shouldn’t have spoken thus.”

“It’s all right, Ewan. What you say is true. I’m risking the safety of the realm in order to put myself on the throne. But what choice do we have? What good does it do to repel the emperor’s invasion if we still find ourselves led by a king who invites rebellion and civil war? The realm is threatened from all sides, and I seek a solution that not only defeats our foes, but also strengthens us from within.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Are you with me, swordmaster?”

“Of course, my lord.”

“I know that you’ll follow my orders, but I’m asking you more than that. I want to know if you can put aside your misgivings and fight this war with fervor in the manner I want it fought.”

Ewan took a breath, then nodded. “I can, my lord. And I will.”

“Thank you, swordmaster. There isn’t another man in the Forelands I’d rather have fighting beside me.”

Clearly moved, the man bowed deeply. “You honor me, my lord.”

“Have riders sent to our allies. Tell them to begin preparations for war immediately, and to march their armies to Domnall. They should try to reach Seamus’s castle no later than the tenth day of the waning. That’s twenty-one days from now, ample time for them to arm and provision their men, and march to Domnall. They can await word from me there. We need to watch how this war unfolds, and we should allow the king and his allies to commence their assault on Braedon’s army.”

“The king will have ordered some of our allies to the Tarbin, my lord. The threat from Aneira is nearly as great as that from Braedon.”

Renald weighed this briefly. “You may be right. We need to know which houses Kearney sent north, and which he sent south.”

“I’d imagine that he ordered Eardley and Domnall north, and Sussyn to the Tarbin. That leaves Rennach.”

“I agree. Find out what you can. But the message should still be the same. They’re to await my word before marching north from Seamus’s castle. Kearney may well have sent them orders to march, but I doubt any of them will. You should also send a rider to Aindreas. Tell him what we have in mind to do, and suggest that he follow a similar course with respect to the Aneiran army.”

“Will he follow you, my lord? The others are minor houses, but Kentigern. .” He shrugged.

“Aindreas is desperate for allies, and he knows better than to think that he has any claim to the throne after all that’s happened over the past year. Under the circumstances, he’ll have no choice but to join us.”

“Yes, my lord.” Ewan bowed again before hurrying off to dispatch the messengers.

Renald stood briefly, watching the swordmaster walk away. Then he started back toward his chambers. He had only taken a few steps, however, when he stopped and glanced up at the eagle tower. Elspeth was there, staring down at him, the wind making her hair fly like battle pennons. Their eyes met for just an instant, and the duke thought he saw the merest hint of a smile flit across her features. A moment later she lifted her gaze again, toward Falcon Bay and the warships, leaving Renald to wonder whether she had smiled out of pride in him, or amusement at the ease with which she had bent him to her purposes.

It had all happened as Uestem said it would. Soon after Pillad jal Krenaar’s meeting with the merchant in Galdasten City, when the first minister finally agreed to join the Qirsi movement, he found a pouch of gold in his sleeping chamber. He had no idea how it had gotten there; he assumed that it came from the merchant, though he didn’t see how Uestem could have slipped into the castle without being seen by the duke’s guards.

The pouch contained eighty qinde. Pillad had counted it several times to make certain, unable to believe at first that anyone would see fit to pay him so much. As it turned out, this gold was the least of the surprises awaiting him now that he had agreed to cast his lot with the renegade Qirsi.

That very night, a Weaver came to walk in his dreams. He was tall and broad like some great magical warrior, with wild hair that stood out like a lion’s mane against the brilliant white light he conjured to keep Pillad from seeing his face. At first Pillad thought that this was no more than a fanciful vision, a product of his fear and excitement at having been paid for his treachery. But as the Weaver spoke to him of the gold and of Uestem and of the great future awaiting those Qirsi who joined his cause, the minister realized that this was no dream, that in fact this was the leader of the Qirsi movement revealing himself to his newest adherent.

Their conversation was brief. The Weaver seemed to know a good deal about Pillad: where he was born, in which court his father had served, why he had come to Galdasten to serve Renald. As they spoke, he even seemed to sense that Pillad had feelings for Uestem, and his distaste was evident in his voice and the swiftness with which he ended their conversation. As the merchant had promised, the Weaver did give him a small task to perform. Pillad was to learn from Ewan Traylee the precise number of soldiers in the Galdasten army and how they were to be positioned in the event of an attack on the city and castle.

Under most circumstances, he would have had no trouble learning all of this from the swordmaster. But the duke had lost faith in him, which made him suspect in the eyes of the swordmaster as well. It had taken him the better part of the previous waxing to gather the information, and even then the minister could not get more than a rough sense of how the men were to be divided between the defense of the city walls and the defense of the fortress.

Fortunately, the Weaver had commanded him to relate to Uestem what he learned. The Weaver hadn’t harmed him during their first encounter, but Pillad was certain that he could, and he didn’t wish to dream of the man again any time soon.

He also couldn’t deny that he looked forward to his conversations with the merchant. By joining the movement, Pillad had done far more than tie himself to the Qirsi cause. He had, he believed, tied himself to Uestem. He couldn’t say what he thought would happen next. Making a traitor of himself had been daring enough. Declaring his affections for a man seemed to be beyond his capabilities. Perhaps he hoped that the merchant would take it upon himself to open his heart first. That would be far easier.