Evanthya looked at her duke, who was gazing at the chamber door, as if he could see Numar through the iron. “My lord, do you think he can convince-?”
Tebeo raised a hand, stopping her. He entered the stairwell and the minister followed. Neither of them spoke until they had gone down to the lower corridor.
Grestos, the duke of Rassor, was in the largest of the chambers here, but Tebeo stopped just outside the stairway and faced her. “Now,” he said in a low voice, “what were you going to ask?”
“I was just wondering if you thought there was a chance Numar could convince the other dukes that you betrayed the realm.”
“No, I don’t. Oh, Mertesse and Rassor will go to their graves believing that I did, but the others know better. This is precisely why Brall and I went to such great lengths to build an alliance prior to opposing Numar’s war. Noltierre, Tounstrel, Kett, Orvinti-they were all with us. And though Silbron wasn’t, no duke of Bistari would ever side with a Solkaran in such a dispute.”
“Then what will happen to the regent? Do you really expect that he’ll be hanged?”
“I don’t know.” He rubbed a hand over his face, as if considering the matter. But he said nothing, and after several moments he turned on his heel and strode to the duke of Rassor’s door.
Unlike Numar, Grestos was sitting on the stone floor, his back against the wall. One leg was folded beneath him, but the other was stretched out straight, a heavy bandage wrapped around the thigh.
“Lord Rassor,” Tebeo said. “I trust your wound is healing well.”
Grestos glowered at him from beneath a shock of white hair, his eyes blue and shockingly pale in a tanned, leathery face. “What do you want, Dantrielle? Have you come to put my nose in it?”
Tebeo smiled thinly, though Evanthya thought she first saw a brief flash of anger in his dark eyes. “Numar asked me much the same thing. It seems neither of you thinks very highly of me.”
Grestos stared at the floor. “You’ve been to see Numar, too? Are you here to tell us when we’re to be executed?”
“I told the regent what I’ll tell you. I’ve sent messages to the dukes who aren’t already here, informing them of Numar’s surrender and summoning them to a meeting of the Council of Dukes.”
“You intend to bring an end to the supremacy.”
“How can I do less?” Tebeo paused, wandering the chamber and eyeing the duke. “I made no mention of you in my messages,” he said at last.
Grestos looked up again. “They’ll know soon enough that I fought alongside him.” But Evanthya thought she saw a flicker of hope in his eyes.
“They don’t have to, Grestos. I can prevail upon the dukes who fought with me to say nothing of your involvement.”
“Kett would never agree to that.”
“He would if I ask it of him.”
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Most of the dukes are here already. We’re really only speaking of Rowan and Silbron.”
“And Brall’s son. He won’t have known either.”
“How would you keep Henthas quiet? He’ll speak against me just out of spite.”
“Henthas is disgraced along with his house. No one will care what he has to say.”
Rassor’s duke shook his head again. “All of this is meaningless. Enough of them know what I’ve done.”
Evanthya watched her duke, unsure as to where he was going with all of this. She had never heard him utter a kind word about Grestos, nor did she think that his allies in this war would be willing to forgive Rassor for casting his lot with the Solkarans.
“You’re right,” Tebeo said. “They do know, and chances are that the others will learn of it eventually. But knowing is one thing, voting in the council to execute you and censure your house is quite another.”
Censure of a house was no small matter. As described in the laws governing Aneira’s Council of Dukes, censure included confiscation of lands, vast increases in royal fees, and suspension of council voting privileges. Even if Grestos was executed, his sons might be forced to pay for their father’s error for years to come.
“What’s all this about, Tebeo? What is it you want from me?”
“I want the Solkaran Supremacy ended, once and for all.”
“You have that already. You’ve defeated Numar’s army-”
“Only half of it.”
“More than half, from what he told me. The point is, you’ve beaten him, and you already have enough votes in the council.”
Tebeo halted in front of the man and squatted down to look him in the eye. “I want more than that. I want the vote to be so overwhelming as to give Henthas no hope of reclaiming the throne. If the council vote breaks six to three, he’ll consider that he might still have strength enough to strike at the new king. I want him isolated and weak.”
“You should be talking to Rowan. Mertesse is far stronger than Rassor.”
“Rowan’s house may be strong, but he’s not a bold man. He won’t stand alone with Henthas, knowing how the Jackal is hated throughout the realm. If you join with the rest of us in the council, Rowan will follow, and the Solkaran Supremacy will truly be broken.”
Grestos grinned, though the look in his eyes remained hard. “You covet the crown for yourself.”
Tebeo straightened and stepped to the chamber’s narrow window. “Again, you echo the regent. The fact is, I don’t wish to be king.” Glancing back and seeing the doubt on Rassor’s face, Tebeo smiled. “I don’t claim that I’ve never wanted the crown, but I’m too old for it now. Besides, I don’t have a mind for politics, and I’m not warrior enough to lead the realm into battle.”
“Then who?”
For the first time since entering the chamber, Evanthya saw her duke hesitate, as if unsure of himself.
“I’ll find out soon enough, Tebeo.”
“First I want your word that you’ll side with us in the council.”
Grestos shrugged. “What choice do I have?”
“You could betray us. Pledge yourself-to us now and support Henthas when the time comes.”
The man bristled. “I would never do such a thing! When a Rassor gives an oath, he honors it! That’s been true of every man who has ever ruled my house, and it’s true of me! You may consider me an enemy, Tebeo. I have no doubt that you dislike me. But I fought beside Numar because I had sworn to do so. You’re the one who withdrew your support from the supremacy, you and Kett and the others. I have always been true to my word, and I will be now.”
“Then you’ll oppose Henthas?”
“I’ve never liked the man. I certainly have no desire to see him as king or regent.”
“And if we choose to spare Numar’s life?”
“I’ll oppose him as well. I swear it.”
Evanthya sensed no deception in his words. She couldn’t be certain of course-her powers didn’t run that deep-but she believed that he would honor his oath. Tebeo seemed to think so as well, judging from the look of relief on his face.
“Thank you, Grestos. In return, I’ll make certain that your life is spared and your house is subject to no formal punishment.”
“Does that mean that I can leave your prison?”
“I’ll need to inform the others first, particularly Ansis, but yes, I’ll release you.”
Grestos raised an eyebrow. “Will I have to wait until Kett agrees to this? If so, I could be in here for years.”
“I didn’t say he had to approve. I just want to tell him first.”
Rassor seemed skeptical.
“You’ll be free within a day. I promise.”
Grestos still didn’t appear convinced, but he nodded. “So, who will be your new king?”
“I can’t be sure, of course. Not until I’ve discussed it with the rest of the council. But I expect it will be Silbron.”
“The boy?”
“He’s nearly a’year past his Fating and Brall told me that losing his father has tempered him, made him mature beyond his years. He’s young still, but Silbron is no boy. And he has Ria with him. The duchess is every bit as clever as Chago was, and knows a good deal about Aneira’s other houses.”
“All that may be true, but I have to wonder if the other houses will follow such a young king.”