Shapers of Darkness (4 page)

Yet this was the first time since the dukes had come to the castle that their Qirsi ministers had been included in any of the king’s discussions with his nobles. Gershon sensed that Marston wasn’t pleased to see them here. The thane seemed to be as distrustful of the white-hairs as Gershon once had been, and during his brief time here he had managed to convince the king to regard his Qirsi with suspicion as well.

But this had become a council of war, and Kearney was
wise enough to consider advice from all who might offer it. No doubt he wished that more of his dukes had answered his summons, even those who had joined Aindreas of Kentigern in his feud with Javan and his defiance of the king.

“If all this is true,” he said now, regarding the other nobles, “if the Aneiran army has been weakened by dissent within the realm, what should we do?”

“There’s only one thing we can do, Your Majesty,” Javan said, from his chair near the open window. “We must prepare for war as if the Aneirans had massed ten thousand men on the banks of the Tarbin.”

Welfyl sat forward, his bony hands gripping the arms of his chair. “But the regent’s weakness offers us an opportunity. We can send a larger force to the north coast to repel the emperor’s invasion.”

Javan gave a wan smile. “We haven’t the men to do so, my friend. Aneira may be weakened by rifts among its houses, but so are we. If we had the armies of Galdasten and Kentigern, I’d agree with you. But we don’t.”

“Surely the other houses will join us to fight an invasion.” Welfyl glanced at the others, looking old and frail. “Maybe not Aindreas, but I’ve known Renald of Galdasten since he was a boy. He may be ambitious, but he’s as loyal to this realm as any of us.”

No one spoke up to agree with him. They just sat, silent and brooding, almost as if they were embarrassed.

“Any invasion from the north will land near Galdasten. The cliffs are lowest there, the strand the broadest. You can’t doubt that he’ll guard his dukedom.”

“He can guard Galdasten without fighting to repel the invasion,” Javan said. “If he seeks the throne, he need only keep his army strong and his city and castle whole.”

“I don’t believe what I’m hearing,” the old duke said, shaking his head. “Is this what we’ve become then? Are we no better than the Aneirans? Are we more concerned with our petty quarrels than with the defense of our realm?”

“I assure you, Lord Heneagh,” the king said, his voice hardening, “the same message you received summoning you to Audun’s Castle was sent to every house in Eibithar. If some
choose to place other concerns above the welfare of the realm, then so be it. But I have not.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Welfyl said. “Forgive me.”

“You’re here, Lord Heneagh. You’ve pledged yourself to the defense of Eibithar. There’s nothing to forgive.”

Welfyl lowered his eyes. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“It’s time all of you returned to your homes,” Kearney told them, looking and sounding every bit the warrior king. “Lord Heneagh is correct in saying that Galdasten is the most likely target of any seaborne invasion. No doubt the Braedon fleet will attempt to take Falcon Bay and control the mouth of Binthar’s Wash. That would give them a powerful foothold from which to wage a land war.” He turned to Javan. “Lord Curgh, once you’ve returned to your home, I want you to take your army north and east. Obviously we don’t know how much help you can expect from Galdasten, so you should take as many men as you can spare from the defense of Curgh. I’ll send five hundred men from the King’s Guard north with you, under your command.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Lord Shanstead, you shall have five hundred as well. I assume that you’ll be commanding the army of Thorald.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Good. You too should take them to Galdasten. And you should do the same with your men, Lord Heneagh. I’ll also send an additional two thousand men north. Perhaps we can outflank the Braedon army as it lands. I’ll send word to Eardley and Domnall instructing them to go north. If they’re with us, that should be enough.”

And if they’re not?
The question burned in every pair of eyes trained on the king, but no one in the chamber gave it voice. No doubt they all feared the answer.

“What of the rest of us, Your Majesty?” the duke of Labruinn asked.

“The armies of Labruinn and Tremain will march south to the Tarbin. So will the Glyndwr army, and fifteen hundred men from the King’s Guard. I’ll send word to the dukes of Sussyn and Rennach, but again, we should plan to fight this war without them.”

Javan’s Qirsi cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “Forgive me for asking, Your Majesty, but what if Lord Kentigern joins forces with the Aneirans?”

The king glanced at Gershon. The two of them had discussed this possibility just an hour earlier, before the nobles and their ministers joined them in the chamber. At the time, neither of them had an answer, and the swordmaster had yet to think of anything. The king had sent men to Kentigern hoping to compel the duke to pay his ducal tithe and declare his loyalty to the Crown. They had heard nothing from the men since, and Gershon feared the worst.

“I have no choice but to hope that Aindreas is not so consumed with hate for me that he’d do such a thing.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

It wasn’t much of a response, but no one in the chamber seemed inclined to challenge him on the matter.

“What of our allies in the east and south, Your Majesty?” Javan asked.

“I’ve already sent word to the king of Caerisse and the archduke of Wethyrn, asking them to consider joining us in any war against Aneira and Braedon. I’ll send new messages today, and include in them the information we’ve just received. And I’ll send word to Sanbira’s queen as well. She asked us to join in an alliance against the conspiracy. It seems that we need more than that now. But again, we must assume that we’re fighting this war alone. If we go into battle with one eye on the horizon, watching for allies who never come, we’re doomed to fail.”

“Where will you be, Your Majesty?” Marston asked.

“I haven’t decided yet. A king should be wherever his men are fighting and dying, but in this case that’s not possible.”

“The greater challenge looms in the north, Your Majesty.” Javan. “You should be there.”

Gershon wondered if one of the Southern dukes would disagree, but Lathrop nodded his agreement. “Lord Curgh is right, Your Majesty. Braedon is the more dangerous foe. If the emperor’s assault can be stopped, the battle with the Aneirans will go our way as well.”

A mischievous grin crept across the king’s face, one that
Gershon knew well, though he hadn’t seen it much since Kearney’s ascension to the throne. “With all my dukes urging me to ride toward the more dangerous foe, I have to wonder if you want me to survive this war.”

Both Javan and Lathrop started to protest, but Kearney held up a hand, silencing them. “It was a joke, my friends, or at least an attempt at one.”

“Your Majesty possesses a singular humor,” Javan remarked dryly.

“So I’ve been told.” Kearney paused once more, looking from one face to the next. “I needn’t tell you that we fight for the very survival of the realm. If we were united, I wouldn’t fear at all, for I’ve seen the strength of Eibithar. But divided, against these foes, we must fight as we’ve never fought before. And we must remain watchful as well. I sense behind all of this the hand of the conspiracy. If the renegades truly seek to weaken the courts so that they can take the Forelands for themselves, then this war will give them as fine an opportunity as they’re likely to have.” He stood and drew his sword, holding the flat side of the blade to his forehead and bowing to the rest of them. “May the gods keep you safe, may Orlagh guide your blades, and may we next meet to celebrate our victory.”

Everyone in the chamber stood and, led by Javan, the nobles pulled their swords free and saluted the king, much as he had done a moment before. “Ean guard our king!” they said in unison.

Then, one by one, again led by the duke of Curgh, the nobles came forward, knelt for a moment before the king, and left the chamber. Each was followed in turn by his minister, after the Qirsi bowed to the king as well. If any of them were discomfited by the king’s words regarding the conspiracy, they showed no sign of it. Gershon cast a look toward Keziah, who stood now, though she was still alone. She met his gaze, but the swordmaster could read little from what he saw in her eyes.

Marston was the last of the nobles to offer obeisance to the king, as was appropriate, since he was the lone thane among them. As he straightened and started toward the door, the king called to him.

“Lord Shanstead, please stay for a moment. I wish a word with you.”

“Should I go, Your Majesty?” Gershon asked.

“No, swordmaster. Please remain.” He looked past Gershon toward Keziah. “You may go, Archminister.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” She bowed and left, as did Marston’s young minister.

When they had gone, and a servant had closed the door, Kearney returned to his throne and sat. “Gershon, I always thought that when I rode into battle, it would be with you at my side. I see now that this isn’t possible.”

The swordmaster had expected this. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

“As Javan and Lord Shanstead suggest, I’ll ride north to meet the threat from Braedon. I want you to lead the defense of the Tarbin. Take whichever of your captains you wish to have with you. I’ll make certain that the dukes understand that your orders carry the weight of the throne.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I won’t fail you.”

Kearney smiled. “I’ve never doubted that for a moment.”

The swordmaster started to ask a question, then stopped himself.

“What is it, Gershon?” When the swordmaster still hesitated, the king sat forward, his brow creasing. “Come now, swordmaster. This is no time for diffidence.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I was wondering, since you said that the Glyndwr army would be coming to the Tarbin, will Lord Glyndwr be leading them? And if so, shouldn’t he command the armies, and not I?”

The king stared at him a moment, then sat back once more. “Kearney the Younger won’t be fighting in this war.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“You think I coddle him.”

“Not at all. He’s not even of Fating age, and the House of Glyndwr must have an heir. I believe you’re wise to keep him in the highlands.”

“He’s already made it clear to me that he doesn’t agree.”

Gershon actually grinned. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but he’s just a boy. He’s bright, and he’s brave, but he’s a child. He
thinks of war as it sounds in children’s tales and warriors’ songs. My boys are the same way. He may think that he wants to join this battle, but he’s not ready.”

“The swordmaster is right, Your Majesty,” Marston said. “I wouldn’t allow my sons to fight either.”

The king gave a wan smile. “In fairness, neither of your sons is duke. But I thank both of you. Certainly the queen will agree with much of what you’ve said.”

The three men fell silent for some time, until finally the king sat forward again, seeming to rouse himself from a dream. “There remains one matter I wish to discuss.”

Marston nodded. “The Qirsi.”

“Yes.”

Gershon looked at them both, feeling his stomach ball itself into a fist. “What about the Qirsi?”

“Lord Shanstead has suggested that I have the Qirsi woman, the traitor, removed from Audun’s Castle.”

“Why?” he asked the thane. “Removed where?”

Marston gave a shrug. “At first I actually suggested that His Majesty have the woman executed. She betrayed the land, she admits complicity in Lady Brienne’s murder. We would be justified in whatever we chose to do.”

“But the king gave his word, not only to the woman, but also to the gleaner, the father of her child.”

“His Majesty said much the same thing, and also pointed out that it would be a terrible thing to do to the child. And so I counseled him to send the woman to Glyndwr.”

“I still don’t understand why.”

“She was attacked by a Weaver, swordmaster,” the king answered. “The same Weaver who leads the conspiracy. As long as she stays here, Audun’s Castle will be a target for every renegade Qirsi in the land. She’s a danger to the lives of everyone in the castle, including the queen and my daughters and your family as well, Gershon. Under other circumstances, I wouldn’t be so concerned. But with both of us riding to war along with much of the royal army, it seems too great a risk. The Weaver might have a more difficult time finding her in the highlands.”

Gershon couldn’t help but shudder at Kearney’s mention of
the attack on the Qirsi woman. From what he understood, the Weaver had entered her dreams and used her own healing magic to open ugly gashes on her face and shatter the bones in her hand. Had the gleaner not been there to save her, the Weaver surely would have succeeded in killing her. But the swordmaster knew that there were risks in sending her away from the castle. “Then again, he might not, Your Majesty,” Gershon said, “in which case you’ll be placing your son and your home city at risk. Glyndwr is a fine castle, but it’s not nearly the equal of this one. Even with the King’s Guard abroad, it’s safer to keep her here.”

Marston and the king exchanged a brief look.

“I disagree,” the thane said. “With the woman—”

Kearney stood and walked to the window. “It’s all right, Lord Shanstead. He should know all of it.”

“All of what, Your Majesty? I don’t understand any of this.”

“There’s more to this decision than just sending the woman away, swordmaster.” With the king staring out at the castle ward, Gershon couldn’t see his face. But the swordmaster could hear the tension in Kearney’s voice, and he felt his own apprehension growing. “I intend to have Keziah escort her to the highlands.”

The swordmaster felt his mouth suddenly go dry. “The archminister?” he said, knowing how foolish he must sound.

“Surely this doesn’t come as a surprise, Gershon. You of all people should have expected it. For the past several turns she’s been belligerent and disrespectful. The counsel she’s offered has been questionable at best. I don’t believe she’s betrayed me to the conspiracy, though at times she behaves as though she had. But her loyalties are divided in ways neither of you could possibly understand. And her feelings for me have grown difficult to discern. I’m not certain what caused all this—maybe it was Paegar’s death, or perhaps . . .” He shook his head. “Whatever its source, I no longer have faith in her ability to serve in this castle.”