Page 50 of The Queens and the Kings (The Isles #2)

HENRIK

The Ladylord’s pronouncement rang through a room of Stenberg naval officers, Arvid, Einar and Henrik. “I hear your plans, soldats, and stand with you in support. Whatever you need from the mainland, please ask.”

Please ask.

Full passage.

She offered everything.

Einar made a joyful sound low in his throat, his teeth splitting in a smile. Arvid gave no response except a curious stare.

Before Henrik could summon words to speak, the Ladylord’s eyes slid to him. “Henrik,” she called across the room, “please work with Nils as command over this mission. Nils will work directly with you.” Her focus slid to Arvid, and then back. “Or with whom you deem fit to enact your vision.”

The room full of mainland officers shuffled. Most hid their gawps of surprise, but others didn’t bother. Of those who stared, wide-eyed at the Ladylord’s thin, powerful figure at the front of the room, only Nils appeared moderately interested in Arvid.

“Ladylord,” said a blustery old man with reddened cheeks and a bulbous nose. “But . . . is this wise?”

“Yes, it is wise. I trust Henrik.”

Henrik mentally flailed. Her blunt willingness to give anything didn’t make sense without understanding the mainland advantage. His Glory couldn’t pose enough of a threat to be concerned with. Stenberg didn’t even use arcane.

While he stewed, the Ladylord hadn’t removed her focus. He kept her stare, not bothering to hide his consternation.

“Do you have any questions, Henrik?” she asked.

He held his immediate response. Of course he had questions. Heaps of them, but he had to be strategic. She tested him.

Why, why, why did they care about damma, about Stenberg, about His Glory?

Ruffles of conversation flowed through the room, cracked open after the old man dared to break the strange silence with his question.

Henrik let the comments flow past him. Through him.

They swept up all his cooped emotions and escorted them out.

By the time the murmuring and scurrying words drifted around, his singular question had materialized.

He’d make the Ladylord answer it.

“Would you please clearly state your goal for Arvid, Einar, and myself, Ladylord?”

A handful of people didn’t hear his question, too engaged in their own discussions. Nudges, thumps, and hushes from those standing around Henrik silenced the conversations before the Ladylord replied.

Henrik expected a wily smile, but instead there was cold, hard calculation. “You know our priority,” she said.

“To destroy His Glory? Yes. Your motivation, no.”

“To spare lives. It is your priority to kill His Glory.”

“Then you won’t be upset when we institute our own leader?”

“No.“ She flicked careless fingers. “Should you need help with procuring someone to take the position, we would of course offer our assistance, but it appears you have that well in hand.”

Nils stiffened at her response.

His confusion deepened. “Then why?”

She took his measure before answering. “Tell me, Henrik. Why do you think I chose you and not Einar to lead?” Her gaze slipped to Einar.

“Einar, you desire revenge so much I can taste it in the air when I’m near you.

” She turned to Arvid. “And you, Captain Arvid, are the future leader of Stenberg.” She gestured to Nils.

“Why not Nils, my most trusted advisor?”

She returned her attention to Henrik. The hardening of his fate happened in the confidence of her smile.

“Why?” he insisted.

The Ladylord stood. “Officers, you may go. Lunch waits for you in the other room. Nils, remain with Captain Arvid and Einar. Please pack as much as you like and prepare to depart immediately. Henrik, come with me. If you’re going to lead this mission, you deserve all the information.”

Henrik almost insisted that she include Arvid and Einar, but a quick head shake from Arvid discouraged his rebuttal, and curiosity bore him out of the room at the Ladylord’s side. She strolled, clearly not wanting to go far, but desiring to be away, on a road that led deeper into Klipporno.

Alone, she resembled Alma far more than the Ladylord.

They wound along the cobblestone path for a full minute.

Stones slanted gradually across the top of the cliffs.

Carts, beasts of burden, and people flowed freely along the lanes below.

A market, cut into the cliffs, had cubbies and rooms and stores lining the interior of old caves.

Despite the commerce, the noise was less intense here than in the meeting.

She paused at a rocky outcropping out of hearing, chin high, eyes canvassing the sea, the road, Klipporno. Lashed at the wharf far below lay Pedr’s rowboat, filled with power but ugly as an old dinghy. They were alone.

“Next week,” she said, “I shall leave my residence here to head east, into the interior. Before winter roads make it impassable.”

“The interior?”

“The mainland holds many lives, Henrik,” she said with amusement. “One can hardly expect the leader of the mainland to stay in one place all the time. Klipporno is my winter home, so I will return with cooler weather.”

“Even with aggression from His Glory?”

A fleeting smile broke across her lips. “When there is this much land to lead, a tyrant such as His Glory is not as frightening as you might think. There are other enemies for whom I must prepare. I won’t be gone long.

” She turned to face him fully. “Here is the truth of the matter, Henrik. The Isles are important to the mainland for many reasons, but certainly not survival. Damma aside, if we never contacted the islands again, we might experience minor inconveniences, but nothing the mainland couldn’t very easily survive. ”

He silently agreed. The weak positioning of The Isles relative to the mainland was nothing new.

“All that,” she continued in her distinctly conversational tone, “establishes the obvious flaw in my reasoning—the one that you have pointed out. Why is the mainland so willing to use our resources and dispose of His Glory?”

He tensed.

“My desire to help Stenberg is the direct result of a very real problem.” She paused. “The wyverns.”

The words shot ice water into his veins. Henrik cast a surreptitious glance overhead. No dark figure cloaked the sky, drawing his attention. A brewing suspicion told him that their lack of presence was a clue.

The Ladylord required no encouragement to continue.

“There is a great deal less fairytale behind the wyverns than what one might expect, and a stronger tie to Stenberg as well. The damma that His Glory refused to send? We used it to control the wyverns.”

Henrik’s mind raced to catch up. Britt had been dealing with the wyverns, not him, but he recalled the details easily. They knew the mineral had something to do with the wyverns, but he hadn’t anticipated control.

“Damma controls the wyverns?” he asked.

“Suppresses arcane in them, yes.”

“Because they’re the Wyvern Kings.”

Her eyes widened a little. Softly, she said, “Yes. How did you know that?”

“Tell me more.”

“The Teller and I have been working closely together since I came into power.” She paled and swallowed resolutely.

“Without him, I may not have had the power to . . . anyway, the Teller asserts that the wyverns are here on borrowed time. A thousand years ago, the Ladylord who endured the terror of the Siren Queens’ reign agreed to host the captured wyverns on our land in order to prevent the Siren Queens from destroying us, too. ”

“Isn’t their banishment a thousand years?”

She held up a finger. “Yes, if they are kept around damma, which prevents their reversion back into the Wyvern Kings. It suppresses the arcane in them, and is meant to keep the wyverns from returning to their natural state.”

“As what?”

She shrugged. “Presumably, rather powerful men. For the last one thousand years, we have mixed the damma with the wyverns' water, put it in their living quarters, dusted them with it. They live and breathe it, unable to summon enough arcane to return or even remember . It’s dangerous, of course. When the damma is extracted from sealstone, it can be very toxic to people. But you know that already. You saw the results on the ship during your crossing to here.”

He scowled at the reminder. “The onded.”

“Onded,” she murmured.

“If the wyverns don’t receive the damma, then what?”

She lifted a hand to the sky “Their understanding and arcane awaken. According to the Teller, they will attempt to attack the Siren Queens and regain the lands and arcane that they lost almost a millenia ago. The Teller believes that the resultant battle will destroy The Isles and much of the mainland. When the Siren Queens are challenged, they do not fight fair.”

“Naturally,” he muttered. “And all of this began because His Glory stopped sending damma?”

“Well, the thousand years would pass no matter what, but His Glory’s refusal to send it created a spark that set it rolling. According to the Teller, there should be ten or so more years before the Wyvern Kings awaken on their own. Without the damma, they have roused early.”

“It still makes no sense why His Glory would stop sending the damma.”

“It makes no sense,” she said gently, “if you think he is working alone.”

Henrik could only stare, stunned by the revelation. “You think he’s working with someone else to make this happen?”

She shrugged. “It’s the only explanation I can imagine. Who that might be? I have no idea. It’s not the Wyvern Kings that he works for, and I don’t know anyone else that wishes the Siren Queens ill.”

Henrik ran his tongue over his teeth, grimacing through these ugly realizations.