Peter Brett - The Skull Throne

Leesha stroked her belly thoughtfully. “So I can never truly claim the child as my own?”

“You’ve missed your chance at that, I’m afraid,” Araine said. “You’d have enemies to the north and south, and your own people would doubt your wisdom.”

“Perhaps they should have a wiser leader,” Leesha said. “Perhaps your son deserves a wiser wife.”

“Point me to this better woman, and the job is hers,” Araine said. “Until then, it falls on you.”

She reached up, flicking a finger against the lacquered wooden crown she wore, set with bright jewels. “The commoners think it easy, to wear a crown. But leaders must make sacrifices. Women, most of all.”

She sighed. “At least Thamos loves you. It’s more than I ever had. After his grandfather bought his way onto the throne, the Royals were on the brink of a coup. Euchor moved soldiers to Riverbridge, ready to crush the battered victor and name himself king. My marriage to Rhinebeck’s son was the only thing that held the city together.”

“I never knew,” Leesha said. The Duchess Mum had never been so open with her before, and she was afraid to say anything more, lest she break the spell.

“It seemed like the end of the world at the time,” Araine said. “Rhinebeck the First did not sit the throne long, and his son had no aptitude or interest in ruling. He visited the palace just long enough to put children in me, and spent the rest of his time in that cursed hunting fort, chasing boar and harlots.

“I was left pregnant and alone with the reins of the city. Did I cry and bemoan my fate? Ay. But I had work to do.” Araine pointed at Leesha. “And I’ll give myself to the night before I let Euchor take the city I’ve dedicated my life to rebuilding.”

“So this is a Northern palace,” Amanvah said. “It is not impressive.”

The strangest thing was that Rojer could see what she meant. Rhinebeck’s palace fortress had once seemed the grandest building in the world, but after seeing how Krasian royalty lived in Everam’s Bounty, suddenly he noticed that the carpet could be softer, the drapes thicker, the ceiling higher.

It was amazing, how quickly he had become accustomed to luxury after spending more than a decade checking for fleas before bedding down in haylofts and two-klat inns.

“Am I the only one thinks the duke needs a slap on the face?” Kendall asked. “Eyeing our bums without so much as a How d’you do? ”

“Rhinebeck and his brothers are like that,” Rojer said. “And to be honest, the rest of the Angierian noblemen aren’t much better. Only interested in women as servants and lovers. They’ll do all the formal introductions tonight at dinner under their mother’s glare.”

“I look forward to meeting this mysterious Duchess Mother,” Amanvah said.

Rojer shrugged. “You’ll find her as vapid and shallow as her sons. None of them has any real responsibilities. Janson’s the one who really runs things.”

Amanvah looked at him. “Nonsense. The man is a puppet.”

“It’s true,” Rojer said. “He paints a dim look on his face when the duke and princes are about, but it’s as good as any Jongleur’s mask. The man underneath is cunning and ruthless.”

Amanvah nodded. “But still not in command.”

“Your dice told you this?” Rojer asked.

“No,” Amanvah said. “I could see it in his eyes.”

“I want you to stick close to Leesha while I’m gone,” Rojer said.

Amanvah tilted her head. “Is that for our protection, or hers?”

“Both,” Rojer said. “These people need not be enemies, but neither are they friends.”

“Now,” Araine said, “if we’ve spoken enough of your wandering affections, it’s time for more pressing matters.”

It wasn’t the lemon that made Leesha wrinkle her mouth as she sipped her tea. “You want to know if the duke is seedless.”

“We both know he is,” Araine said. “I didn’t ask you to come all this way for that. What I want to know is if you can fix it.”

“Will he consent to be examined?” Leesha asked.

The Duchess Mum’s mouth soured as well. “He is being … difficult in that regard.”

“I can only guess so much without that,” Leesha said. “I can brew virility herbs …”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried that?” Araine snapped. “Jessa’s had him on every stiffener and fertilizer under the sun for years now.”

“Perhaps I can come up with something your … Weed Gatherer has yet to try.” Leesha kept the bitterness from her voice, but the duchess picked up on it anyway.

“No doubt Bruna ranted at length on the evils of weed gathering,” Araine said, “but she never had more than a few hundred children to care for, and, as I recall, was never shy about dosing folk without their knowledge.”

“Always to help,” Leesha said. “Never to hurt.”

“Oho!” Araine said. “So she was helping when she threw blinding powder in someone’s face? Or hit them with her stick?”

“Always for their own good,” Leesha said. “She didn’t poison.”

“Perhaps.” Araine smiled over the rim of her delicate cup. “But you have, haven’t you? All the Sharum in your caravan this summer, as I hear it.”

Leesha felt her face grow cold. How had the duchess heard of that? “That was a mistake. One I won’t repeat.”

“A promise like that makes you a fool or a liar,” Araine said. “Time will tell. You have power, and a day will come when you have to use it, or be destroyed.”

She set down her tea, picking up an embroidery hoop. Her nimble fingers belied her advanced years as she worked. “Regardless, Mistress Jessa was trained by Bruna herself, and has the royal libraries at her disposal. I’ll wager she’s forgotten more about herbs than you know. If she says she’s tried everything, then she has.”

“Then what do you need me for?” Leesha asked.

“Because you have tools she doesn’t,” Araine said. “Jessa knows her herbs, but she’s less skilled with the knife.”

“And if Rhinebeck needs a cut between the legs to let his seed flow?” Leesha asked. “How are we to arrange that, if he won’t even let me examine him?”

“If it comes to that,” Araine said, “we’ll put tampweed and skyflower in his ale and keep him out till it’s done. Tell him he drank himself stupid boar hunting and took a tusk between the legs.

“But now there’s a third option.” Araine kept her eyes on her hoop. “Magic.”

“It doesn’t work quite like that,” Leesha said. “The body heals itself, magic just speeds the process. If Rhinebeck was born with a … defect, there isn’t much I can do.”

“What about the white witch you brought with you?” Araine demanded.

“You want to involve her in this?” Leesha asked.

“Don’t be stupid,” Araine said. “We tell her it’s some other nobleman, and have her teach you what you need.”

“If such a thing exists,” Leesha said.

“You’d best hope it does,” Araine said. “Time’s running out. If Melny isn’t pregnant by midwinter, we go to the backup plan.”

“And that is?” Leesha asked.

Araine smiled. “Get Thamos to seed the young duchess.”

“What?” Leesha felt like she had swallowed a heavy stone. For a moment it was hard to breathe, and then it sat aching in her stomach.

“Melny may not be the sharpest spear, but she’s got paps to turn the head of any man,” Araine said. “Not that it will take much to convince Thamos he can save the entire duchy by cuckolding you and Rhiney.”

“And Melny?” Leesha asked. “Is she just a womb with no say in the matter?”

Araine snorted. “She’ll put her legs in the air and thank the prince when it’s done. Girl isn’t the sharpest axe in the shed, but she’s not entirely dull. What do you think will happen to her if she can’t get pregnant before the Krasians turn north and Euchor forces our hand? Princess Lorain of Miln is already in the city with five hundred Mountain Spears, bribing Royals and eyeing poor Melny like an owl eyes a mouse. Her very presence is a slap in the face of the ivy throne.”