“Fretting,” Kalan told him. “He's not been well lately and Cyrus has his ear. He knows what Lernen likes and, more importantly, what he fears. You've no idea the damage he's done in your absence.”
R'shiel was looking at him with concern. He did not realise how dangerous his expression was until he caught a glimpse of himself in the glass.
“Don't do anything hasty, Damin.”
“What I plan to do to Cyrus will be very, very slow, R'shiel.”
“I don't have time for you to start a war, Damin.”
He smiled coldly. “Don't worry. It'll be a nasty little war, but a short one.”
“How long ago did all this happen?” R'shiel asked Kalan, sparing Damin an exasperated look.
“Over a month ago. I've been here since the Feast of Jonadalup. Mother came here as soon as she realised Krakandar was under threat. Narvell arrived six days ago.”
“But now that he's back, you can release Krakandar and return to Greenharbour, right?”
“No. We'll have to go back to Greenharbour so Damin can petition the Convocation of Warlords for the return of his province.”
“Petition the Warlords!” Damin exploded angrily. “The hell I will!”
R'shiel shrugged philosophically. “Then we'll go to Greenharbour.”
“R'shiel —”
“Damin, we have to get this sorted out quickly. Medalon is under Karien control and I can't do anything about it until I've found out how to deal with Xaphista. If that means sorting out your damned Warlords, then that's what we'll do.”
“What's the hurry?” Kalan asked suspiciously. “Xaphista has been the dominant power in the north for centuries. A few more months one way or the other won't make much difference.”
“It's not just the Overlord. I promised to help the Defenders retake Medalon. There's a thousand Defenders headed this way,” Damin told her.
“You're bringing Defenders onto Hythrun soil? Damin, how could you?” she cried in horror.
“They come as allies,” R'shiel reminded her.
“There is no such thing, as far as the Warlords are concerned. If those Defenders step one foot into Hythria before this is resolved, there will be nothing I can do to save you, Damin. You will lose Krakandar, the High Prince's throne and probably your life.” The High Arrion turned to R'shiel, her eyes burning with anger. “You are responsible for this too, I suppose?”
“Sort of,” R'shiel admitted.
“And how does this fit into your grand plan to destroy Xaphista?”
“If we don't turn the Kariens back from Medalon, Hythria is next, Kalan. I can hardly destroy him if he's getting stronger, rather than weaker. We need the Defenders and every man the Hythrun can muster. Only then can we restore the Primal Gods to millions of people who now worship Xaphista.”
“What do you mean, you're going to weaken Xaphista by restoring the Primal Gods to Karien?”
“What did you think I was going to do? Hunt Xaphista down and then throw fireballs and lightning bolts at him? Unless you've got some handy little scroll with precise instructions on how to do that tucked away in your archives, the only way I can seriously threaten the Overlord is to shake the faith of his believers. And I can't do that while he's rampaging through the continent, conquering everything in sight. The Defenders must be helped. Medalon must be freed.”
“And how do you plan to restore the Primal Gods?”
“That's where you come in.”
Kalan stared at her, wide-eyed. “I fail to see...”
“The Sorcerers' Collective is the closest thing to an organised religion that I have to work with,” R'shiel explained, a little impatiently. “The Kariens are used to being organised. It's how Xaphista maintains control. I can't just destroy his Church. I have to replace it.”
“Since the withdrawal of the Harshini our power has been eroded considerably.”
“I know. But Brak told me that the Sorcerers' Collective once sent out their emissaries to every corner of the continent. He said they could travel through a war zone with impunity.”
Kalan nodded. “They were protected by their black robes, their diamond-shaped pendant and the deep respect the people had for our fellowship.”
“Those days are long past,” Damin warned. “Anyone caught wearing the diamond pendant in Fardohnya these days is imprisoned as a Hythrun spy. In Medalon they're liable for deportation. In Karien, they're burned at the stake.”
“I can change that. We can change it. But I need your help, Kalan. I need access to your archives. I need Hythria united and at peace with Fardohnya, and we need Hythrun help to push the Kariens back. And I need the Collective. Only then can I face the Overlord with a chance.”
Kalan nodded as the ramifications dawned on her. “Assuming we can save Damin's province and bring our troops to aid Medalon, how do you propose to convert the Kariens?”
“I don't wish to tip my hand by revealing that.”
Damin glanced at her askance, wondering if her reticence was deliberate or she simply didn't have a clue.
Kalan's eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Yet you demand my cooperation?”
“I'm asking for it, Kalan. If I wanted to demand it, I would ask one of the gods to appear and make it a divine edict.”
“Then let me see if I understand you. You want me to return to Greenharbour and announce that the Collective sanctions the marriage of the Hythrun heir to Hablet's daughter. You then, I assume, want me to issue some sort of dire threat to the Warlords who oppose this union, to make them toe the line. And while you're scrabbling through my archives looking for something that probably doesn't exist, you want me to get them to release Krakandar back to Damin and convince them that a thousand or more Defenders pouring over our border is an act of friendship, not war.”
“That would help,” R'shiel agreed.
“And you? Having dragged half the world to the brink of war, what will you do, exactly?”
“Hand you and your Collective more power than they've known for centuries,” the demon child told her.
Kalan sat, silent and thoughtful for a moment. “You make a powerful and tempting offer, demon child.”
“You're not likely to get another like it.”
Kalan looked down at her hands again before meeting R'shiel's eye. “You may, of course, have access to our archives. They are as much the property of the Harshini as they are ours. As for the rest of it... I cannot give you an answer now. I must think on this. What you ask is unprecedented. And I wish to speak with my mother.” She glanced up at Damin. “You are aware of this plan, I assume?”
He nodded. “So is Adrina.”
“Well that explains this absurd marriage, at any rate.”
Kalan rose to her feet and brushed an imaginary speck of dust from her long black robe. Her fair hair fell forward and when she looked up for a moment she appeared much younger and more innocent than she truly was.
“I will give you my answer when I have come to a decision. Damin; demon child.” She bowed politely and left the Solar.
Damin turned to R'shiel, shaking his head. She met his look, puzzled by his expression. “What?”
“I was just thinking how well you manipulate people, R'shiel.”
“You sound like you don't approve.”
“I never said I didn't approve. I just can't handle never knowing what you're going to do next.”
“You might find it's better that way,” she suggested with the ghost of a smile.