David Coe - Bonds of Vengeance

Pronjed smiled. “I’m glad to hear that, my lord. Perhaps we can agree at last to put aside our differences, for the good of the queen, of course.”

“Of course.”

The Qirsi just gazed at him, as if waiting for something.

“Is there anything else, Archminister?”

“In fact there is, my lord. I’ve been charged by the queen mother with the responsibility of overseeing the girl’s studies.”

“And so you wish to know what we discussed.”

Pronjed shrugged. “If I may be so bold as to ask.”

“It was nothing, Archminister. She questioned me about her father.”

“Her father, my lord?” Something in the way the minister’s expression changed gave the regent pause.

“Yes. She wanted to know if we had been close as children. If I remembered what Carden was like as a boy, before he became duke and king.” He smiled. “It’s only natural, really. Having lost him at so tender an age, she finds herself desperate to learn all she can of him. Still, I thought it touching in a way, and just a bit sad.”

“Indeed.” The minister pressed the tips of his fingers together. “And your conversation with the duke? What was that about?”

He would have liked to tell the man to mind his own affairs, that a regent did not answer to a mere minister. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he told Pronjed the truth.

“He fears that I’m wasting time. That I ought to be planning for the girl’s murder already.”

“Why does he think this?”

“Because he thinks the dukes are more likely to follow a king than a regent.”

“He sees no danger in killing the girl so soon?”

“He claims not to, but I think there’s a part of him that would like to see me fail.”

“Even knowing that your failure could bring an end to the Solkaran Supremacy?”

“Yes.”

“How did you respond when he urged you to kill the girl?”

“I told him to be patient, that eventually I would rule Aneira as king, and when I did he would be rewarded for supporting me.”

“And did he pledge his support?”

“No. He thinks I’m destined to fail. He says I have enemies close by who will destroy me.”

“Did he say who they were?”

“No.”

The minister said something else, though Numar couldn’t say for certain what it was. Indeed, a moment later he found that he couldn’t remember at all what he had just been saying.

“My lord?”

He stared at the Qirsi for a moment. “What?”

“You were telling me that you’ve yet to hear from the emperor as to his request for soldiers.”

“Was I?”

“Yes. And so you don’t know how high to set the quotas for the other houses.”

“That’s right, I don’t. I expect it will be at least five hundred men from each.”

“Some of the dukes may object. Dantrielle, for instance.”

“Yes. Dantrielle, Bistari, perhaps Tounstrel. I’m aware of the problem.” He frowned. The man always seemed to be prying into Numar’s affairs, as if he considered himself regent. “The dukes are my concern, Archminister. I’d ask you to leave them to me.”

The Qirsi inclined his head slightly and stood. “Of course, my lord. Forgive me. I’ll leave you now.”

“Yes, please.”

He watched the minister leave, and only when the door finally closed did he feel his anger begin to sluice away. He would have to be more wary of Pronjed. The man was probably every bit as dangerous as Henthas. Numar walked back to his writing table and began to search for the most recent message from Braedon’s emperor. After a few moments he paused, however, gazing at the door once more.

Something about his conversation with the Qirsi disturbed him. If only he could remember what it was.

Pronjed strode through the castle corridors, his rage threatening to break free at any instant. It was bad enough that he had to humiliate himself before the Weaver, begging his forgiveness for actions that should have been lauded rather than punished. But to have to tolerate such treatment from the regent was almost too much. Numar might have been intelligent for an Eandi, he might even have been the canniest of the brothers Renbrere, but he was still a weak-minded oaf. Bending the man’s will and mind was proving itself all too easy. Unfortunately, what he had learned from this most recent encounter had disturbed him greatly. Numar, it seemed, was but one dolt among many.

Reaching the door he sought, he rapped hard on the oak and pushed the door open in response to the summons from within.

He was careful to close the door before saying anything. But once it was shut, he whirled toward the figure standing by the open window, leveling a rigid finger at him.

“You’re a fool!”

Henthas grinned, though his eyes blazed angrily. “No, Archminister. I’m a Jackal, remember. I believe you’ve just come from the Fool.”

“This is no joke!”

“ ‘This is no joke, my lord .’ Isn’t that what you mean?”

“You told him he had enemies in the castle?” Pronjed said, ignoring comment. “You told him that he was destined to fail?”

Henthas eyed him keenly. “How do you know what I said to him?”

“I have my sources. I’ve lived in this castle, and among these people, far longer than you have.”

“You had someone listening to our conversation?”

“Why would you tell him these things? Are you so childish that you just have to gloat, or is it more than that?” He took a step toward the man. “Are you planning to betray me to him? Is that it? Are you playing both sides of this?”

He knew, of course, that Henthas was doing just that, but he needed to give the duke an opportunity to deny it. Which the man did, quite convincingly.

“Calm yourself, Archminister. I’m not planning to betray you, and I’ve done far less damage than you seem to think. Numar has never trusted you-you’ve been Chofya’s ally from the very beginning, at least that’s how it seemed to Numar, and to Grigor as well. He’s thought of you as his enemy for so long that I’d imagine he’s looking elsewhere trying to decide who I meant. All I’ve done is confuse him.”

Pronjed exhaled through his teeth and straightened. The duke was probably right, though that did little to ease the minister’s frustration with the man. He shouldn’t have spoken to the regent of enemies, nor should he have been encouraging the man to kill the girl-queen. Of course he could say nothing about that part of their discussion, not without making Henthas even more curious about the sources of his information.

Apparently the duke’s thoughts had wandered in a similar direction.

“What else do you know about what Numar and I said to one another?”

“Very little. Perhaps you’d care to tell me more.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“You still think he means to do harm to the queen?”

“I believe it’s possible. Numar wants to be king, and the girl stands in his path.”

“You want to be king, too.”

His face colored. “Yes, I do. But I know that the dukes will never allow such a thing. They’d overthrow the Supremacy before they accepted me as their ruler. That’s why Numar is so dangerous for the girl. They’d believe him innocent of any crime against her. I doubt Chofya will ever believe this, but I’m far more suited to be regent than my brother.”

“Because your reputation is so poor that you could never get away with murdering the child.”

“Precisely.”

Pronjed gave a thin smile. “Such reasoning hardly flatters you, my lord.”

“No,” the man said, “I don’t suppose it does. But you can’t deny that it makes sense.”

It was hard to know just what Henthas had in mind to accomplish with all his machinations. The minister could have used magic to divine his thoughts, just as he had with Numar, but he thought it safer to employ such tactics against only one of them. And though the regent had made the mistake of taking his brother too lightly, Pronjed still considered Numar the more intelligent of the two brothers, and therefore the more dangerous. Thus he had to content himself with gleaning what he could of Henthas’s intentions from his conversations with the man, and from his probing of Numar’s mind.