Shapers of Darkness (69 page)

But did he want to be regent, or did he prefer to kill Kalyi now? It didn’t take him more than a moment to understand that his choices were as limited as Chofya’s. He would move against the girl eventually, but for now he could not. A good many of Solkara’s soldiers remained loyal to her, seeing her as Carden’s true heir. A few chafed at the idea of seeing their
house led by a girl, but not enough yet to challenge her authority. If he killed her, they would turn on him. He needed first to win their trust, to convince them that in both temperament and ability, he was closer than anyone to their lost king. That would take some time.

Pleased with himself for working all this out so quickly, the duke left his chambers for the great hall, where his supper would soon be served. There was a woman who was to meet him there, one of Chofya’s ladies, as it happened, and he didn’t wish to keep her waiting too long.

Just as Henthas had expected, there was no message from Numar the following day. Shortly before the ringing of the prior’s bells, Chofya and Kalyi arrived at his quarters, eager for word of the siege.

“I’m afraid I’ve heard nothing,” he told them, standing in the doorway, blocking their entry to his chamber.

Chofya’s expression didn’t change—clearly she had expected this—but Kalyi looked disappointed, and just a bit scared.

She looked up at her mother. “Do you think—?”

Chofya laid a hand on her shoulder, silencing her. “Thank you, my lord duke,” she said. “We won’t disturb you any further.”

“Actually, my lady, I wish a word with you.” He nodded to one of the guards positioned outside his chamber. “If Her Highness would be so kind as to remain out here, this will only take a moment.”

Once again Kalyi looked at her mother. This time there could be no mistaking the fear in her eyes.

“It’s all right. Stay with the soldiers. I’ll be just inside.”

The girl nodded, and Henthas backed away from the doorway, allowing Chofya to enter.

“What is it you want?” she asked, once he had closed the door. She sounded impatient, but he felt certain that the chill in her voice was intended to mask her own apprehension.

“Just to talk, my lady.” He faced her and smiled.

She eyed him briefly, then crossed to the window, crossing her arms over her chest as if cold. She really was quite lovely.
Black hair, black eyes, olive skin. There could be no mistaking her for a woman of Solkara, but she was beautiful nevertheless. Carden had done well for himself, despite his many limitations.

“What could we possibly need to discuss?”

“Come now, Chofya. You’re an intelligent woman. You weren’t at all surprised to learn that I’d received no message today. Numar is on the verge of being defeated. If he’s not yet captured or dead, he will be soon. The supremacy is over and your daughter, who will soon be just duchess, will be needing a new regent.”

She turned to face him. “And you think I’d trust you with that?”

Henthas grinned. “Let’s pretend for a moment that you have other choices. Solkara will have just lost its hold on the throne, it will be led, at least in name, by a child, and a girl at that. What’s to keep Bistari, or Orvinti, or one of the other houses from taking our lands?”

“The other houses wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t they? They’ve hated us for centuries.”

“Yes, well, the men of your family have seen to that, haven’t they?”

“Indeed, none more so than your husband.”

Chofya started to say something, then stopped herself, appearing to think better of it.

“The point, my lady, is that Kalyi might be well served to have me standing beside her.” He gave a thin smile. “You hate me, and you’re afraid of me. So are the other dukes. Isn’t it possible that the fear I instill might prove a boon to the ambitions you harbor for your daughter?”

“You’ll turn against her eventually, when it suits your purposes. Just as Grigor would have, just as Numar was going to.”

His eyebrows went up. “You don’t miss much, do you?”

“Not where my daughter is concerned.”

“You’re right, I may turn against her. I can’t now, but there may come a time when I can, and I may well take that opportunity. But for now, we need each other. The fact of the matter is, you have no other choices. If you give the regency to someone
from another house, the army may turn against you. And if I move against Kalyi now, they’ll turn against me.”

She stared at him, her eyes narrowed, as if she were trying to discern from his appearance whether he could be trusted.

“I’ve surprised you.”

“You are unusually direct, my lord. I hadn’t expected that from a Renbrere.”

“My brothers are all lost, my lady. The supremacy of my forebears is gone. I haven’t the heart for more games. The survival of our house is at stake, and I’ll do nothing to weaken us further.”

“Very well, my lord. Allow me to think on it for a day or two. We’ll speak again.”

It was probably as much as he could ask for just now. “Of course, my lady. In the meantime, if I hear anything new from Dantrielle, I’ll let you know.”

She inclined her head slightly. “Thank you, my lord.” She crossed to the door, opened it, and stepped into the corridor. He saw Kalyi rush to her side, looking deeply relieved, as if she had expected Henthas to kill her mother right there in his chamber. A moment later, one of the guards closed the door again, leaving the duke to contemplate what had passed between them.

Chofya had lived in the Solkaran court long enough to know how desperate he was. If he couldn’t be duke, and she refused to give him the regency, he’d have nothing left except the marquessate. No doubt she’d use this knowledge to try to control him, to make him agree to conditions another man would reject out of hand. He’d make a show of resisting her efforts to rein him in, but in the end he’d agree to whatever stipulations she proposed. He’d bide his time, allowing her to believe that she had succeeded in tethering him, letting her grow comfortable until her vigilance slackened. Then he’d deal with them both.

Numar had warned him of Pronjed, but Henthas doubted that he’d ever see the archminister again. If Numar had been captured, so had the Qirsi. And if by some chance Pronjed did manage to escape, and Numar was correct in thinking him a
traitor, he wouldn’t bother returning to a disgraced house, far removed from Aneira’s new royal city, wherever that was going to be. He’d join his fellow renegades in striking at the Eandi courts. Again, Henthas didn’t know where they might strike first, nor did he care. It wouldn’t be Solkara—a year ago maybe, but not anymore. That was fine with the duke. For now, Henthas cared only about his own survival. The conspiracy might threaten him eventually, and when they did, he would make certain that he was ready. But today, here in this castle, he was more concerned with a ten-year-old girl and her resourceful mother.

He didn’t see Kalyi or Chofya that night at dinner, nor did he see the queen mother for the next two days. It almost seemed that she was avoiding him. No new messages arrived from Numar, but on the third morning, a messenger arrived wearing the colors of Dantrielle. Henthas, who had been informed of the man’s approach to the city, ordered the guards to escort the man to his chamber, but the messenger refused to enter the castle, demanding instead that the duke and queen be summoned to the castle gate. Descending the tower stairs and making his way across the courtyard to the outer gate, Henthas knew just what this meant. A messenger didn’t make such demands of members of a royal house.

Somehow, Chofya and the girl were already at the gate when he arrived, though he had wasted no time in following the soldier from his own chamber. He gave the woman a puzzled look, but she barely glanced at him before facing the messenger again.

“You may begin now,” she said. Kalyi stood in front of her, and Chofya had placed her hands on the girl’s shoulders. She almost appeared to be using her body to shield the queen from Henthas.

“I’ve been sent by Tebeo, duke of Dantrielle, to inform you that Numar of Renbrere has failed in his attempt to take Castle Dantrielle and has been imprisoned for crimes against the realm. The duke of Dantrielle along with the dukes of Kett, Rassor, Tounstrel, and Noltierre have met in council and voted to end the Solkaran Supremacy. They have yet—”

“Wait a moment,” Henthas broke in. “Did you say Rassor?”

“Yes, my lord. The duke of Rassor.”

“That’s impossible. Rassor fought with Numar. You mean Orvinti.”

“Lord Orvinti is dead, my lord.” The man held out a scroll tied with satin ribbons or red, gold, and black. “You may read this for yourself.”

Henthas grabbed it from him, pulled off the ribbons, and unrolled the parchment, scanning the message quickly. It matched what the man had said almost word for word, and was signed by the five dukes he had mentioned, including Grestos.

“Traitorous bastard!” he muttered, crumpling the parchment in his fist.

“Did the message say anything else?” Chofya asked. “Did it . . . did it offer any instructions for us?”

“No, my lady. Nothing of that sort.”

She pressed her lips thin. Clearly she had been hoping for some indication that they wanted Kalyi to be made duchess. Perhaps she even hoped they would demand that Henthas be imprisoned, or sent back to Dantrielle to be punished with his brother.

“Well, you must be weary from your journey,” she said to the man a moment later, recovering as would a queen. “We can feed you and tend to your mount before you begin the ride back to Dantrielle.”

“Thank you, my lady, but I was instructed not to enter your castle.”

Chofya frowned. “What?”

“They don’t trust us, my lady,” Henthas said, eyeing the man, watching for his response. “Or more to the point, they don’t trust me. Isn’t that so, Dantrielle?”

“I merely know what I was told, my lord.”

“Fine. Begone then. If they wish to make an outcast of House Solkara, then so be it.”

“No!” Chofya said, glaring at him. “We will not become the bane of every house in this realm. Tell the other dukes that when the time comes to choose a new king, we would like very much to be party to the council.”

“You will tell them no such thing!”

“You do not speak for this house, Henthas! Kalyi was queen and is now duchess! And if you aren’t prepared to recognize her authority then I’ll assume the role of regent myself!”

“Don’t presume to challenge me, Chofya. I’ll crush you, just as Numar should have done, and Grigor before him.” He turned on his heal and started back through the gate.

As Henthas walked away, he heard Chofya tell the rider to deliver her message to his duke, but he didn’t care. By the time Tebeo received word of their confrontation, the matter would be settled, once and for all.

Before he had managed to cross the courtyard, someone called to him. Turning, he saw one of the younger captains approach. He couldn’t remember the man’s name. He knew only that for a man this young to be here, rather than with one of the two forces Numar had sent to war, he couldn’t be much of a soldier.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

“Your pardon, my lord, but I couldn’t help hearing what you and the lady was just saying.”

“Yes, what of it?”

“Well, I wanted you to know that not all the men is with her.”

“What?”

“Some of us is siding with you.”

“What are you—?” He stared at the man a moment, his mind racing to catch up with the implications of what this fool was telling him. “Are you saying that Chofya’s been talking to the captains, trying to turn the army against me?”

“Yes, my lord. But not all of us is ready to join her.”

The whore! He’d kill her, and the brat, too.

“What do you want us to do, my lord? Just say the word, and we’s with you.”

“How many?”

“My lord?”

“How many of the soldiers are with me?”

“ ’Bout a hundred, my lord.”

“One hundred? That’s all?”

The soldier flinched. “Well . . . well, by the time we thought to do anything, she had got to most of the men.”

Henthas shook his head. A hundred men. And if the others were anything like this one, he didn’t stand a chance. Best to handle this on his own. After, he’d deal with the ones she had turned. “Tell them to be ready,” he said. “Tell them to watch for my signal.”

“What signal will that be, my lord?”

“They’ll know it when they see it. In the meantime, see if you can persuade any of the others to join me. Quietly.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Henthas spun away from the man, striding back to his chamber, his hands trembling with rage, his heart pounding like that of an overworked mount. He should have expected this. For several turns he had been warning Numar against taking Carden’s woman too lightly. Now it seemed that he had done just that. All the time he had been lying to her, lulling her, he thought, into a false sense of trust, she had been doing the same to him, with far more success.

Well, no more. Court games such as this had long been Numar’s strength, and Grigor’s before him. Henthas was a different sort of animal, and it was time he began acting as such.

Once in his chamber, he closed and locked the door behind him. He would allow himself no distractions until he had decided on a course of action. There were several ways to do this; he just had to decide which of them conveyed the proper message to those men who had joined with the queen mother. It didn’t take him long to realize that his choices were actually quite limited. This was one instance when the brutality for which he and Grigor had long been reviled would serve him best. He had only to wait.

He took his meal in his chamber, sitting by his window, waiting for nightfall. When at last the sky darkened, the duke stood, strapped on his sword, and left his chamber, making his way through the corridors to the sleeping quarters of Chofya and Kalyi.

Two men stood watch outside their door, both of them tall and muscular. Neither of them was young—most of the young men had marched with Numar or had gone north to join Mertesse—but neither were they as old as some of those who now guarded the castle.

Seeing Henthas approach, they straightened, their hands falling quickly to the hilt of their blades, though neither man drew his weapon.