Still, fascinated as she was by the regent’s reports, and versed as she was in the subtleties of Aneiran statecraft, it took a conversation with Kalyi, still two years shy of her Determining, to make Chofya understand fully how dangerous this siege was for her and her child.
They had returned to their chambers from yet another audience with the duke. The prior’s bells had just tolled in the city and they had an hour or so to wait before the evening meal. Kalyi seemed to have sensed long ago that Chofya did not approve of the siege or much else that Numar had done in her name. Outside of Henthas’s chamber, the two of them had not spoken of the conflict in some time. But on this day, the news from Dantrielle had not been good, at least not for House Solkara. Chofya liked Tebeo and Brall and still remembered how they had stood with her when Grigor, Carden’s ruthless brother, had tried to wrest the crown from her daughter. Listening to Henthas read Numar’s accounts, she often found herself silently cheering Dantrielle’s successes and the regent’s failures.
According to the message that arrived that day, the last of the waxing, Numar’s scouts had seen men approaching Castle Dantrielle from the north, south, and east-no doubt the armies of Orvinti, Tounstrel, and Kelt. Tebeo’s defenses were beginning to fail, Numar wrote, but there was no way of knowing if the castle would fall before Dantrielle’s allies arrived.
Kalyi had said nothing as they walked through the corridors back to their chamber. She looked pale, her lips pressed tight. With her dark hair and eyes, she favored Chofya, but like her father, she carried her worries where all could see them.
“What if the siege fails?” she asked abruptly, once they were back in their quarters. “What if Uncle Numar can’t take Castle Dantrielle after all?”
Chofya sat on their bed and beckoned Kalyi to her side. “If the siege fails, your uncle will have to fight his war against Eibithar without the soldiers of Dantrielle, Orvinti, and the rest. He’ll still have his alliance with the emperor of Braedon, but he won’t bring quite so strong an army to it.”
Actually, this was essentially what Chofya had expected from the start would happen. She thought the siege was destined to fail; Castle Dantrielle was as strong as it was beautiful, and Numar had already sent part of his army north. Though Rassor had joined him, the regent’s force remained too small to defeat Tebeo and his allies. Their only hope had been a quick and decisive victory. Clearly that hadn’t happened. None of this surprised her, which might have been why she never considered the possibility raised by Kalyi’s next question.
“What if Uncle Numar is killed?”
She didn’t care for the man at all. When it came to choosing a regent for Kalyi, she had preferred him to either Grigor or Henthas, but she knew better than to think him kind or to believe that he had taken on the responsibilities of being regent out of concern for his niece. He was clever and ambitious and nearly as dangerous as the other two. So why did she tremble so at the mere thought of his death?
“He won’t be,” she said, knowing how foolish she sounded.
“What if he’s struck by an arrow or killed by one of Dantrielle’s swordsmen? What if Pronjed kills him?”
“What? Why would Pronjed kill Numar?”
“He killed Father. At least that’s what Uncle Numar thinks.”
“Damn him!” Chofya muttered, drawing a shocked stare from Kalyi. Why would Numar tell the girl such a thing? She had thought that they were past this nonsense. For several turns Kalyi had been trying to learn what she could about her father’s death, as if there had been any doubt but that he had taken his own life, as if such an endeavor were appropriate for a ten-year-old girl. Numar should have kept his crazed theories to himself.
“Your father took his own life, Kalyi,” she said wearily, bracing herself for the all-too-familiar argument. “I’ve told you that before.”
Kalyi shook her head, the golden circlet she wore as a crown flying from her hair, but at least she wasn’t crying. “That’s just how Pronjed made it seem. He used magic to make father kill himself. Uncle Numar said it’s called mind. . turning, or something like that.”
It seemed to Chofya that someone was kneeling on her chest, making it difficult for her to draw breath. She had heard tales of Qirsi who could control the thoughts of others, though she had placed little stock in such stories. Certainly she had never thought that she would know such a man. “Mind-bending?” she whispered.
“Yes! That’s it! That’s how he killed Father!”
“Mind-bending magic is very rare. We don’t know that Pronjed-”
“Yes, we do. I. .” She lowered her eyes. “I overheard a conversation, a long time ago. Pronjed used that magic on the master of arms.”
“Kalyi!” she said, trying to sound stern. “You listened?”
The girl nodded, her eyes still fixed on the floor. “Yes.”
Chofya should have been cross with her; it was unseemly for any young girl to listen in on a conversation between adults, but it was particularly so when that girl was queen. Still, Chofya’s eagerness to know what her daughter had heard was a match for any anger she might have felt. Perhaps more than a match.
“Tell me what you heard,” she said, as if admitting defeat.
Kalyi looked up, smiling. The conversation she described made little sense in terms of military matters; clearly the girl had not understood much of what she heard. But when Kalyi told her how Pronjed had instructed the master of arms to give certain advice to the regent, when she said that the archminister told Tradden what he was to remember of their conversation, she had little choice but to believe that Pronjed possessed mind-bending power.
“Why would he have killed Carden?” she asked, speaking more to herself than to Kalyi.
“Uncle Numar thinks he’s a traitor. He may be part of the conspiracy.”
Chofya nodded. If all of this were true, that would be the only explanation that made any sense. Was it possible then that this alliance with Braedon was part of the Qirsi plot? Was the siege as well? Pronjed had come to her recently, hoping that she would help him push the regent toward the alliance. He said at the time that he sought to strengthen the realm so that when Kalyi came to power Aneira would have nothing to fear from its enemies. Had that been a lie? If he possessed this power, and had truly sought to enlist her as an ally, why didn’t he try to control her thoughts as he had Tradden’s?
“None of this makes any sense, Kalyi,” she said, trying to convince herself. “Even if he was with the conspiracy, I’m not certain that he had any reason to kill your father. And not long ago he came to me hoping I would help him with something. When I refused, he simply accepted it and never raised the matter with me again. If he had this power surely he would have used it against me.”
“He tried to use it on Uncle Numar. Uncle is sure of it.”
Could the regent have been lying about all of this, trying to turn Kalyi against the archminister? Or had Pronjed decided that Chofya wasn’t important enough to risk using his powers against her?
Ultimately, none of this was as important as Kalyi’s initial question. The young queen seemed to realize this as well.
“Just because he doesn’t have that power, doesn’t meant that he won’t try to kill Uncle Numar,” Kalyi said. “They don’t like each other.”
That much Chofya knew already. “No, they don’t,” she admitted. Not that the regent needed Pronjed thirsting for his blood. There would be thousands of soldiers wearing the uniforms of Dantrielle, Tounstrel, Orvinti, and Kelt, just as avid for his death as any Qirsi, loyal or not.