David Coe - Bonds of Vengeance

“Brall was displeased with me last night when I sent the two of you away. He was convinced that you would be plotting behind our backs. I thought it better that he know the truth.”

“I think you’re probably right, my lord.”

“Unfortunately, this brings us no closer to finding Fetnalla.” He rubbed a hand across his brow, as he often did when concerned. “Would she have gone to the city for any reason?”

“It’s certainly possible, my lord. We didn’t speak of her plans for the day, nor did we know that you and Lord Orvinti wished to speak with us this morning. She might have gone to the marketplace without realizing that her duke would be looking for her.” She hesitated. “I take it Lord Orvinti is scouring the castle for her.”

He gave a wan smile. “I’m afraid he is. I tried to assure him last night that Fetnalla serves him loyally, but he’s even more disturbed by what he hears of the conspiracy than I am. This will do nothing to put his fears to rest. The sooner we find her, the better for all concerned.”

Evanthya nodded, trying to think of where Fetnalla might have gone. She thought it strange that the minister would leave the castle at all. It was true that they hadn’t known when the dukes would wish to speak with them, but Evanthya had assumed it would be this morning. Indeed, she had intended to be awake far earlier than this, expecting that they would all meet with the ringing of the midmorning bells. Fetnalla should have expected the same. She also should have known better than to leave the castle when her duke had guests, particularly in light of Brall’s suspicions. This was not like her at all.

She was about to say as much to Tebeo, when she heard a voice calling for him. A moment later a guard stepped into the corridor, breathless and flushed.

“They found her, my lord,” the man said. “She was walking the gardens. She’s with the duke now.” His eyes flicked toward Evanthya. “They’re waiting for you both.”

Evanthya closed her eyes for an instant, surprised by how relieved she felt, or rather, how frightened she had been.

“Thank you,” Tebeo said to the man. “Tell Lord Orvinti we’ll be joining them shortly.”

“Yes, my lord.” The man bowed once and left them.

“I’ll dress as quickly as I can, my lord.”

“Very well. I’ll wait.”

Evanthya started to close the door, but Tebeo spoke her name, stopping her.

“For what it’s worth, Brall took the news of your. . of you and Fetnalla rather well. He agreed with me that so long as he and I remain allies, and the two of you continue to serve us well, your private lives are none of our concern.”

She nodded. That was a relief as well, though a part of her couldn’t help feeling that they shouldn’t have needed permission from their dukes to be in love. “Thank you, my lord. I’m glad to hear that.”

It took Evanthya but a few moments to dress and soon she and her duke were making their way through Orvinti’s corridors to Brall’s chambers.

The door was open when they arrived. Brall sat at his writing table, looking at a large ledger by the light of several candles. Fetnalla stood at the hearth, her back to the duke, her color high.

Brall looked up as Tebeo and Evanthya stepped into the room and immediately closed the volume.

“Our apologies for keeping you waiting,” Tebeo said, smiling first at the other duke and then at Fetnalla, who didn’t appear to notice.

“And my apologies as well for sleeping so late,” Evanthya added, hoping to deflect some of Brall’s anger away from Fetnalla. “I must have been more weary from our travels than I knew.”

“No apology is necessary,” Brall said, a sour smile on his lips. He indicated the chairs near where Fetnalla was standing. “Please sit. First Minister, can I offer you something to eat?”

Evanthya shook her head as she lowered herself into the nearest chair. “No thank you, my lord.”

“Some tea perhaps?”

She forced a smile, sensing that his courtesy was merely a mask for other sentiments. Suspicion, distaste, anger. There had been a time when Evanthya actually liked Fetnalla’s duke, seeing him as a man much like her own duke; honorable, kind, though perhaps gruffer than Tebeo and not quite so wise. But it seemed that his fine qualities had been overwhelmed by his growing distrust of the Qirsi.

“Tea would be fine, my lord.”

He rang a bell on his table, and almost immediately a door on the side wall of the chamber opened, revealing a young servant.

“Some tea, and some pastries as well.”

The boy bowed, pulling the door closed once more.

“Lord Dantrielle has told me of your counsel, First Minister,” Brall said, sitting across from her. “He tells me as well that you fear this coming war with Eibithar.”

“I do, my lord.”

“The prospect of a civil war doesn’t frighten you more?”

“These are difficult times, my lord. Every possible path presents unique risks, and unique opportunities as well.”

He wrinkled his brow, looking puzzled. “Opportunities,” he repeated. “What an interesting choice of words. Opportunities for whom, First Minister?”

She heard the insinuation in his question and glanced for a moment at Fetnalla, who continued to stand before the fire, as if ignoring their conversation.

“I believe,” Tebeo broke in, “that Evanthya sees an opportunity in this course of action for all who feel as we do, that Numar’s alliance with the empire will lead Aneira to ruin.”

Brall frowned at the duke, as if annoyed by the interruption. He opened his mouth, no doubt to question her further, only to be stopped by the return of his servant with the tea. By the time the boy had finished pouring out cups for all of them, which took several moments, Brall’s face had turned a mild shade of purple.

Finishing with the tea, the boy faced his duke once more. “Will there be anything else, my-?”

“No! Leave us!”

The servant bowed again and hurried from the room.

The duke of Orvinti exhaled heavily and looked at Tebeo. “Where were we?” he asked.

Evanthya picked up her teacup, pleased to see that her hands remained steady. “You were asking me about my counsel to Lord Dantrielle, my lord. I believe you were trying to determine where my loyalties lie.”

“Evanthya!” Tebeo said, glaring at her.

Fetnalla eyed her as well, her expression unreadable.

“Forgive me, my lord,” Evanthya said, facing Tebeo, so that all in the room would know for whom the apology was intended. “But Lord Orvinti’s intent was clear enough to compel an answer from you in my defense. I feel I have little choice but to respond.”

“You’re offended easily, First Minister,” Brall said.

“Not at all, my lord. But you think me a traitor, as you do all Qirsi. I merely wish to assure you that I serve my duke and my house faithfully and that I offered this counsel to Lord Dantrielle believing fully that this was the correct course of action. If you choose to reject my counsel, you should do so knowing that.”

She chanced a quick glance at Tebeo, and though the duke sat tight-lipped, still appearing angry, he nodded once, as if to tell her that he understood. Fetnalla still had not said a word, nor did she now.

“I don’t think that all Qirsi are traitors,” Brall said, sounding sullen.

“But you treat those who serve you as if they are.”

The duke leveled a rigid finger at her as he would a blade. “It’s not your place to tell me how to treat my ministers! I don’t care whose bed you share!”

Fetnalla stiffened, all color draining from her cheeks.

Tebeo closed his eyes briefly, giving a weary shake of his head. “That’s enough from both of you.” He looked up at Fetnalla. “I’m sorry, First Minister. I told your duke last night. I meant to assure him that there was no harm in allowing you and Evanthya to leave us. I hope you can forgive me for doing so.”