Page 6

“ I don’t know how long we can continue like this, Mother.” King Niam Fjell stared out the window at the bleak Delletinian landscape. Fat snowflakes fell steadily, the grayness of the day hiding the mountains that rose on either side of the old keep he’d retreated to for a break from court life.

If only he could’ve brought Quillan and Uri. Gods, he missed his boys.

“But we have so much gold after discovering that vein in our mountains,” Mother replied from her brocaded chair near the fire. Many royal ladies might practice their needlepoint. Instead, Delletina's queen mother polished her favorite dagger.

Niam nodded, moving from the window to the fireplace of his mother's solar, closer to her chair. He leaned an elbow on the mantel, watching her with tired eyes. “Yes, we have gold. Gold Craice would overrun our kingdom for.”

Mother scoffed. “Do you believe the empire would be any different? ”

“Not with Emperor Soland Aravaid. I’m told his son is much more reasonable.” Which wouldn’t be a lofty accomplishment. Rumor said Emperor Soland listened to no one’s counsel but his own, always finding a scapegoat to blame when his scheming failed, convinced he could do no wrong.

“Do you plan to wait until Soland dies?” Mother narrowed her eyes. “Or do you have some nefarious plan I don’t know about for hurrying him to his grave? I’d happily help you.” She tossed and caught her dagger, a malevolent gleam in her eyes.

“Mother!” Niam barked in horror. Her grin calmed his ire. Somewhat. He smirked. “Only if I could get away with it.”

She playfully batted his arm. “You’d do no such thing. But I might.”

Niam sighed. He didn’t know if she jested.

She certainly knew her way around daggers and had once disarmed a man intent on kidnapping an infant Niam.

“It would make things so much easier. Between fires, sinkholes, harsh winters, and other calamities, we have enough stores for two more winters before our people feel the pinch if we can't replenish them. Craice wants only to take, as does Soland. He won’t even offer us soldiers to protect against our enemies for fear we’ll use his forces against him.

” It seemed Niam’s title wasn’t the only one to come equipped with a dose of paranoia.

“Like a flatlander could fight in our mountains.” Mother slipped the dagger into a sheath hidden in the folds of her skirt. She refocused on the embroidery hoop in her lap, working a stylish vine design into a tunic—no doubt she could cause serious injury with a needle as surely as with a blade .

“Who is that for?” Niam asked, nodding at the cloth in her lap.

“I received word that your cousin Yarif is now shackled to Soland’s younger son, Draylon Aravaid. This is intended as a wedding gift. I’ll also send a braided silk rope in case he needs to strangle his new husband. Only the finest for our Yarif.”

Sometimes, Niam’s mother scared him. “Does Yarif even remember us? He was a child the last I saw of him. His father hasn’t allowed communication since the death of Yarif’s mother. You say he’s now a part of the emperor’s family? That didn’t take long.”

“King Lleval did plot against the emperor, though he wasn’t cunning enough to be successful. Shallow as a mud puddle, that one. Got himself killed for treason along with his heir. Soland’s son Draylon Aravaid is the new king of Renvalle, with Yarif as king consort.”

How did Mother know these things before Niam? He slammed his hand onto the mantel, which didn’t even elicit a flinch from his mother, nor did she cease her stitching. “With his brother and father dead, Yarif is the rightful king.”

Mother looked up then. “Although you haven’t seen him since he was a child, he’s still the same sweet boy he used to be.

The people love him, but Renvalle needs a strong leader in these troubled times, like the warrior kings of old.

I hope this Draylon is reasonable. If he possesses any intelligence, he’ll listen to Yarif.

My spies tell me no love is lost between the two, but not all good matches require love. ”

She must be talking about Alyss. Yes, Niam’s arrangement with her had been better than most political unions, but now Alyss was with the man she’d loved for most of her life. While Niam respected her, it could never have been an abiding love. Not like Mother and Father had shared.

Mother resumed her stitching. “We shall see. Perhaps this King Draylon will be open to our pleas for help and prove more open-minded than his father.”

The hard-headed Delletinian nobles were more open-minded than Soland Aravaid. “You know our nobles want nothing to do with the empire. They fear Soland will confiscate their lands and give their titles to his favorites. Which is why I’d rather deal with Soland’s heir.”

“Avestan,” Mother provided.

“Avestan, then. Yes, I’d rather deal with him.”

“We don’t know how Draylon will react when he learns of his consort’s connection to the Delletinian royal family. I doubt anyone volunteered the information.”

If Soland’s spies knew of the kinship, they’d surely have told by now. “Few know of the link. It’s been a very long time since we communicated with Yarif. He might not remember us.”

“All he needs to do is meet you to know you’re related. His mother and I favored each other quite a bit.”

“Perhaps Yarif doesn’t remember his mother.”

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. “Enter,” Niam called.

His secretary entered, frown a startling contrast to the usual jovial expression on Willem’s round face. “Your Majesty, I’ve received an urgent message for you.” He hurried across the carpet and placed a sealed scroll in Niam’s hand.

“Thank you.”

Willem bowed his way out the door.

Niam broke the seal and raised the scroll close to his nose to read. Chills raced over his entire body.

“What does it say?” Mother demanded.

The scroll slipped from Niam’s numb fingers. He bent to retrieve the message. “How odd that we’ve been speaking of Yarif. I’ve just received word of him. Do you know the name Illa Trandores?”

Mother’s brow furrowed. “I remember a disgraced Trandores family who left the kingdom.”

“Illa Trandores has brought Yarif to Delletina against his will.”

“Why?”

Niam read over the message again. “My spy only says that she’s trying to implicate us in the plot against the emperor.”

Mother’s face went white. “Do you think she knows of Yarif’s kinship to us?”

“Doubtful. But what better excuse for Soland to invade than for Delletinians kidnapping his son’s consort?” Niam’s heart dropped as the implications occurred to him. Full-scale invasions had started over less.

“What better way to rid his son of an unwanted consort?” Mother growled, absentmindedly reaching for her dagger.

Niam’s heart ached for his young cousin.

What use was kingship if he didn’t intend to use his power for good?

“I believe we should spoil their plans. Even though Illa Trandores’ family is from this area, if she grew up in the empire, she might not know how treacherous Delletina can be at this time of year.

We’ll use her ignorance to our advantage.

I’ll send out my best men.” He opened the door to find Willem dutifully waiting.

“You wish to send a message, Your Majesty?”

“Bring me Captain Casseign.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Willem trotted down the hallway, all youthful enthusiasm.

“Why Casseign?” Mother asked.

“Because he’s here, and I trust him. He speaks passable Renvallian. He also doesn’t immediately hate all foreigners.” Niam poured brandy into two glasses, handing one to his mother. The cold in his bones had little to do with the weather, but brandy still might help.

A knock sounded on the door a few moments later. “Enter.”

Casseign ducked through the doorway, his six-foot height scarcely accommodated in the ancient keep. He bowed low, then stood at attention. “You sent for me, Your Majesty?”

“Yes. Would you care for brandy?”

“No, thank you, sire. I’m on duty.”

How like the man, sticking to duty even when his king invited him to partake. Part of the reason Niam chose Casseign. “There is a matter of utmost importance I need you to attend to.”

“I live to serve, Majesty.”

“Someone has kidnapped the king consort of Renvalle and crossed our borders. I believe the culprit intends to start a conflict between the empire and Delletina, warranting an invasion.” Which would put an end to any plans to join the empire peacefully.

Casseign cocked his head to the side. “Why the king consort? And how will that spark an invasion?”

“The emperor killed King Lleval DiRici and his heir for treason, then set his own son on the throne, making Lleval DiRici’s remaining son king consort.” Niam clenched his teeth to keep his outrage in check.

“Permission to speak freely?” Casseign’s golden eyes shone with intensity.

“Always.”

“I’ll never understand the scheming of royals.” Casseign shot a glance at Mother, then at Niam. “No offense intended.”

“None taken. The murder of the king consort in our lands will, I fear, bring immediate retaliation. We must thwart their plans by finding the man first. He is to be treated with the utmost respect. Yarif DiRici is not our enemy.”

Casseign inclined his head, a lock of light brown hair sweeping over his forehead. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Take only a few trusted soldiers. The kidnappers have been spotted near Telaga Pass.”

Alarm crossed Casseign’s face. “They’re nearby then. I know the area well. It’s treacherous this late in autumn.”

Would Illa Trandores have come this way had she known she’d be so close to Niam?

"I hear she leads a small band of mercenaries, possibly disguised as our soldiers. Intercept them and bring me the consort. If you must kill the party, do so. However, I would like at least one to survive for questioning, if possible.” If Niam’s methods weren’t successful, he’d turn his mother loose.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Captain Casseign bowed again before leaving the room.

Niam let out a heavy sigh. “It seems my hoped-for peaceful retreat from court isn’t going according to plan.”

“It never does, dear,” his mother consoled, reaching out to pat his hand. “It never does.”