Jadrek shook his head. "This is just not to be believed -- Idra pretends to go haring off after the Sword That Sings -- then we just happen to stumble on it on a remote trail, and just happen to bring it with us -- "
"Archivist, I hate to disagree," Tarma interrupted, "but it's not so much of a coincidence as you might think. Idra wanted an excuse to go north. If she'd wanted one to go south, I would bet you'd have found a different legend, but the Sword's legend says it was stolen and taken north, so that's the one you chose. There's only one real road through the Comb. No thief would take that, and no fugitive -- well, that left this goat-track we followed. I know it's the closest path to the real road, and I'll bet it's one of the few that go all the way through. No great coincidence there. As for the coincidence of us finding the dead thief, and of Keth taking the sword --
I'll bet he was found a good dozen times, or why were the goldwork and the gems gone from the sheath and the pommel? But nobody in their right mind would bother taking a blade that wouldn't cut butter. And we've been stopping in every likely sheltered spot, so it's small wonder that we ran across him and his booty. But I would be willing to stake Ironheart that no mage ever ran across the body. Mages can sense energies, even quiescent ones; right, Keth?"
"That's true," Kethry corroborated. "I knew there was something about it, but I didn't have the strength to spare to deal with it right then. So I did what most mages would do -- I packed it up to look into it later, if there was a later. Besides, knowing how these mage-purposed things work, I would say that the sword might well have known where it was going. It could well have 'told' me to bring it here."
"And the sword, once it sensed you were wavering on making a bid for the throne, made itself known," Mertis concluded wryly.
"It appears," Stefansen said ruefully, "that I don't have any choice."
"No more than I did, my friend," Roald replied with a chuckle, and a smile. "No more than I did."
But Stefansen sagged, and his face took on an expression of despair. "This is utterly hopeless, you know," he said. "Just how am I supposed to get back the crown when my only allies are a baby, an outlander, three women, a -- forgive me, Jadrek -- half-crippled scholar, an outsized beast, and a sword that's likely to betray me by glowing and singing every time I touch it?"
"I really don't see why you're already giving up," Roald chided. "Thrones have been overturned with less. What do you really need for a successful rebellion?"
"For a start, you need someone who knows where each and every secret lies," Jadrek said, sitting up straighter, his eyes shining with enthusiasm. "Someone who knows which person can be bought and what his price is, which person can be blackmailed, and who will serve out of either love or duty. I haven't been sitting in the corners of the Court being ignored all these years without learning more than a few of those things."
"We could infiltrate the capital disguised," Kethry said, surprising her partner. "Magical disguises, if we have to. No one will know us then; Jadrek can tell me who are the ones he wants contacted; if we can get one of us into the Court itself, we could pass messages, arrange meetings. I know Tarma could go in as a man, with an absolute minimum of disguising, all physical."
So we've thrown in with this lot, have we, she'enedra? Is it the cause that attracts you, or the fact that it's Jadrek's cause? But, since Kethry had added herself to the little conspiracy, Tarma added her own thought, in spite of her better judgment. "Huh, yes -- if we can figure something that would put me into the Court without suspicion."
"Challenge the current champion of the King's Guard to combat" Mertis put in, surprising Tarma considerably. "That's anyone's right if they want to get in the Guard. Free swords do it all the time, there's nothing out of the ordinary about it. If you do well, you've got a place; if you beat him, you automatically become head of the Guard. That would put you at Raschar's side every day. You couldn't get any closer to the heart of the Court than that."
Stefansen looked doubtfully at the lean swords-woman. "Challenge the champion? Has she got a chance?"
Still not sure you trust us, hmm, my lad? I can't say as I blame you. I'm still not entirely sure of you.
But Mertis smiled, and Tarma sensed that the gentle-seeming lady had a good set of claws beneath her velvet. "If half the tales I've heard about the Shin'a'in Swordsworn are true, she'll have his place before he can blink. And right at Raschar's side is the place we could best use you, Swordlady."
It became evident to Tarma that guileless Mertis was no stranger to intrigue as the evening wore on, and the plan began to look more and more as if it had a strong chance of success. In fact, it was she who turned to Roald, and asked, bluntly, "And what is Valdemar prepared to grant us besides sanctuary?"
Roald blinked once, and replied as swiftly, "What will Valdemar get in return?"
"Alliance in perpetuity if we succeed," Stefansen said, "My word on that, and you know my word -- "
"Is more than good."
"Thank you for that. You know very well that you could use an ally that shares a border with Karse. You also know we've stayed neutral in that fight, and you know damned well that Char would never change that policy. I will; I'll ally with you, unconditionally. More -- I'll pledge Valdemar favor for favor should you ever choose to call it in. And I'll swear it on the Sword -- that will bind every legal heir to the pledge for as long as the Sword is used to choose rulers."
Roald let out his breath, slowly, and raised his eyebrows. "Well, that's a lot more than I expected. But you know we don't dare do anything openly. So that means covert help ..." His brow wrinkled in thought for a moment. "What about this -- every rebellion needs finances, and arms. Those I think I can promise."
Kethry looked rather outraged; Tarma was just perplexed. Who exactly was this Herald?
Kethry took the question right out of her mouth.
"Just what power is yours that you can fulfill those promises?" Kethry asked with angry cynicism. "It's damned easy to promise things you know you won't have to supply just to get us off your backs and out of your kingdom!"
Stefansen looked as if Kethry had blasphemed the gods of his House. Mertis' jaw dropped.
I think Keth just put her foot in it, Tarma thought, seeing their shocked reaction to what seemed to be a logical question. Something tells me that "herald" means more than "royal mouthpiece" around here --
"He -- Roald -- is the heir to the throne of Valdemar," Mertis managed to stammer. "Your Highness. I am sorry -- "
Tarma nearly lost her own jaw, and Kethry turned pale. Insulting a member of a Royal House like that had been known to end with a summary execution. "It's I who should beg pardon," Kethry said, shaken.
"I-I've heard too many promises that weren't fulfilled lately, and I didn't want Jad-- my friends, I mean, counting on something that wouldn't ever happen. Your Highness -- "
"Oh, Bright Havens -- " Roald interrupted her, looking profoundly embarrassed. " 'Highness,' my eye! How could I have been insulted by honesty? Besides, we aren't all that much sticklers about rank in the Heraldic Circle. Half the time I get worse insults than that! And how were you to know? You don't even know what a Herald of Valdemar is!" He shrugged, then grinned. "And I don't know what a Swordsworn is, so we're even! Look, the law of Valdemar is that every Monarch must also be a Herald; our Companions Choose us, rather like that musical sword of Stefan's. Both Father and Mother are Heralds, which makes them co-consorts, so until they seek the Havens -- may that take decades! -- I'm not all that important, and I act pretty much as any other Herald. The only difference is that I have a few more powers, like being able to make promises in the name of the throne to my friend, and know my parents will see that those promises are met. Now, about those arms -- " Tarma was profoundly troubled; Kethry had thrown herself in with these people as if she had known them all her life, but it was the Shin'a'in's way to be rather more suspicious than her oath-sister -- or at least more than Kethry was evidencing at the moment. She needed to think -- alone, and undisturbed. And maybe ask for some advice.