David Coe - Bonds of Vengeance

She nodded, keeping her silence.

“As for the two of you,” he continued, fixing his glare on Brall and then Evanthya, “this bickering must stop. We have plenty of enemies throughout the realm without imagining more in this chamber. Now, Evanthya has suggested that we oppose Solkara’s call to arms when it comes, and I trust that she has the best interests of my house at heart. I’ve told her that Dantrielle won’t defy the regent unless Orvinti does the same. So we can discuss this matter for as long as necessary, Brall, but before I leave Orvinti, I need to know what you intend to do.”

The duke had not taken his eyes off Evanthya, and even now, giving a small mirthless laugh, he continued to stare at her. “So it comes down to me, does it? She steers us toward civil war, but I’m the one who’ll be branded a traitor.”

Evanthya shuddered at what she saw in the man’s light blue eyes. Despite what her duke had said about imagining enemies, she knew that this was no trick of her mind. She had made an enemy today. One more among many , she thought.

“As I told you last night,” Tebeo said, “it may not come to that.”

Brall nodded, finally looking away from her. “Yes, I remember. If we can convince the other houses to join this rebellion, we may keep Numar from destroying us. And who’s to say that none of the other dukes will reveal our treachery to Numar, winning the regent’s favor for himself and dooming us to hangings?” He stood abruptly, stepping past Fetnalla and returning to his writing table. “I don’t like this. Lies and betrayal are not our way. That’s not how Eandi nobles ought to conduct themselves.”

It’s the Qirsi way .

He didn’t have to say it. Everyone in the chamber knew what he was thinking.

Tebeo gave a small shake of his head. “Forgive me, Brall, but that may be the most foolish thing I’ve ever heard you say. Eandi nobles have been lying to each other for centuries, and with all we know of the clan wars before the Qirsi invasion, I feel confident in saying that we didn’t learn this from our ministers.”

Evanthya expected Brall to grow angry again, but he surprised her.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “But I still don’t like it.”

“None of us does, my lord,” Evanthya said, careful to keep her tone respectful. “I didn’t give this counsel lightly or without regret. But this is a time for Aneira and the other realms to join together and fight as one to defeat the conspiracy. I grew up hating the Eibitharians, and at another time, under different circumstances, I would support this war with all my heart. But not now, not while there are traitors among us.”

Brall seemed to weigh this for some time. Then, clearing his throat, he turned to Fetnalla. “What do you think of this, First Minister?”

She narrowed her eyes, as if looking for some sign that he was mocking her.

“I truly would like to hear your thoughts on this, Fetnalla. I know it’s been some time since I sought your counsel on any matter of importance, but I’m asking you now.”

The minister shrugged, appearing uncomfortable. “I fear this war, just as Evanthya does,” she said at last. “But I’m no less frightened by the prospect of a civil war. Numar will try to crush those who oppose him, no matter how many houses stand with us.”

“So you don’t think we should oppose him?”

She hesitated again, looking like an innocent caught between advancing armies. It seemed to Evanthya that Fetnalla was unwilling to state an opinion, for fear of giving her duke more cause to doubt her.

“I believe we should be prepared to go to battle in either case. This alliance with Braedon is a grave mistake, but Orvinti and Dantrielle aren’t powerful enough to stop Solkara. If we intend to fight the regent we’ll need to have the southern houses with us, and perhaps Bistari and Kett as well.”

“I said much the same thing last night,” Tebeo told her. “I believe the others can be convinced to join us.”

Fetnalla raised an eyebrow. “If they can, this just might work.”

“Does that mean you’d advise me to defy the regent?”

The minister took a long breath. “Yes, my lord. I suppose it does.”

“We can compose messages to the other houses immediately,” Tebeo said. “Even Bertin would receive his before the end of the turn.”

Brall shook his head. “No. This is too dangerous to trust to messengers. You and I should make the journeys ourselves.”

Tebeo grinned. “You’re with me, then?”

“I must be mad, but yes, I am.”

“You’re not mad, my friend. War with Eibithar would be madness. This is an act of courage.”

That she should be so eager to leave Brall’s chamber and the company of the two dukes didn’t surprise her at all. Brall had long since poisoned their relationship with his spies and the silent accusations she read in every glance, every question about her activities. And whatever kindnesses Tebeo had shown Evanthya over the years did not change the fact that he was Eandi and a noble, and therefore no different from her own duke.

But as she hurried down the corridor after their discussion had ended, desperately hoping that she could turn the nearest corner before Evanthya emerged into the hallway, she scarcely recognized herself.

“Fetnalla!”

She briefly considered walking on, as if she hadn’t heard, but she knew that Evanthya would not give up so easily. She halted and turned, not bothering to mask her impatience.

“You were just going to leave without me?”

“I thought your duke would want to speak with you. I intended to find you later.”

Evanthya came closer, wary and ashen. “Then why are you acting like you can’t wait to get away from me?”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I? Where were you this morning?”

“Walking the gardens.”

“I don’t believe that for a moment.”

“You think I’m lying to you?” She spoke with as much conviction as she could muster, but her hands had begun to tremble again, and she feel a muscle in her cheek jumping, as if her body itself were rebelling against her.

“I’m not certain what to think, Fetnalla. You won’t speak to me, you very nearly run away from me, you claim to be walking in the castle gardens when you ought to have been in your duke’s chambers.” She swallowed. “And I know that you’re lying to me now. I can always tell.”

She shivered. “When else have I ever lied to you?”

Evanthya looked around, then took Fetnalla’s arm and led her out on the castle and into the bright sun of the ward. “During the last planting,” she said, once they were a good distance from the nearest on Brall’s guards, “when you told you me you’d had a vision of Shurik that you knew for certain he was with the conspiracy. There was no vision, was there?”

Fetnalla opened her mouth, closed it again. It had seemed such a trifle at the time. She was certain that Shurik was a traitor, though she hadn’t even known his name. It made sense that he was. Why else would he have betrayed Kentigern when he did, so soon after Lady Brienne’s murder, with Eibithar on the cusp of civil war? But even seeing the logic of it, Evanthya wouldn’t have agreed to have him killed at least not then. The Evanthya standing before her now-emboldened by their success, confident enough to stand up to Fetnalla’s duke-she might have. But a year ago, Evanthya had been timid and not yet prepared to compromise her morality for the exigencies of this private war they had begun. So yes, Fetnalla had lied, telling her of a vision she never really had. With all the lies she had told in recent turns, this one had slipped her mind.

“How long have you known?” she finally asked.