He acknowledged the point with a small nod. “I’m afraid I do. I hope that Kalyi will become the sort of leader you want her to be. But I believe that in this case, war is justified. We have an opportunity to weaken Eibithar, perhaps even destroy her. Isn’t it possible that by ridding ourselves of such a powerful enemy, we make it easier for the queen to rule with a gentle hand?”
“Perhaps,” she said. “But even if we rid ourselves of the threat to the north, how long will it be before we face another from Sanbira or Uulrann, or even from Braedon? There will always be those who counsel war, Archminister, who see dangers in one realm or another. Better she should learn from the start that war is to be avoided, that other solutions are preferable.”
He forced a smile. “Of course, Your Highness. I understand.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”
“Think nothing of it.” He gestured toward the laborers working at the far end of the gardens, and together they walked in silence back to where she had been when he first found her.
“Thank you for taking the time to speak with me, Your Highness,” he said, bowing to her. “Please forgive the intrusion.” He started to walk away.
“How soon do you think the war will begin?” she asked, forcing him to face her once more.
“I’m not certain, though I expect we’ll be at war before the end of the growing turns.”
Chofya nodded, tight-lipped and grim.
Pronjed made his way back toward the nearest of the castle towers. Before he had gone far, however, he glanced up toward the top floor of the castle and saw Numar standing at his window, marking the archminister’s progress through the castle ward. Their eyes met for just a moment, before the regent shifted his gaze, but he didn’t close the shutters, nor did he step away from the window. And almost as soon as Pronjed looked away, he sensed the man’s eyes upon him again.
He continued on toward the presence chamber of the Solkaran duke, Henthas, the regent’s older brother. He didn’t relish the thought of relying on this man for anything, but he couldn’t do all that the Weaver expected without help.
Henthas offered only a sneer by way of welcome.
“What do you want?” he demanded, sounding every bit the Jackal.
“Just a word, my lord. It won’t take long.” I’m no more eager to be here than you are to have me.
“Very well. What is it?” From the tone of the duke’s voice one might have thought that Pronjed was keeping him from some crucial task, but as far as the minister could tell, the man had simply been sitting by his window, staring out at the ward and the soldiers training there.
The archminister glanced at the servants standing by the door, before again regarding Henthas.
The duke twisted his mouth as if annoyed, but a moment later he ordered the servants from the chamber.
“Now for the third time,” he said, once they were gone, “what do you want?”
“I want to know if you’ve spoken with your brother recently.”
“My lord.”
Pronjed blinked. “What?”
“ ‘I want to know if you’ve spoken with your brother recently, my lord.’ I’m duke of Solkara, Archminister. You often seem to forget that.”
Pronjed gave a brittle smile. “How could I, my lord?”
Henthas said nothing, and cursing the man inwardly, the archminister surrendered the point.
“I was wondering if you had spoken with your brother recently, my lord.”
The duke smiled broadly. “Much better. As it happens we spoke yesterday. Why do you wish to know?”
“He’s told me little of his preparations for war, and even less of what he intends to do about Dantrielle and the dukes who oppose him. I thought perhaps you could tell me what you know.”
Henthas watched him for several moments, then shook his head. “No, I don’t think I will.”
Pronjed bit his tongue, tasting blood. “May I ask why?” he said at last, fighting to keep his voice even.
“If Numar has chosen to keep you ignorant of such matters, I can only assume that he has good reason. Far be it from me to work at cross purposes with my own brother.”
The minister would have laughed aloud had he not been so enraged. Henthas had, at one time or another, been working at cross purposes with everyone in the castle, including his brother. Especially his brother.
“It wasn’t long ago, my lord, that you and I were working together to protect the queen from the regent. The threat to her remains, and I needn’t remind you that the stronger Numar becomes, the less likely it is that you will ever be in a position to claim the throne for yourself.”
“Have you spoken to Chofya of the threat to her daughter?”
“Not yet, no.”
“I’m surprised. If you truly feared for the queen’s life you would have by now.”
Pronjed crossed the chamber and sat in a chair near the duke. He needed to be close to the man in order to use magic on him. “You’ve allied yourself with him, haven’t you?”
Henthas shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”
The minister smiled, but even as he did, he reached out with his power and touched the duke’s mind. “What did he offer you?”
“He offered nothing,” the man said, his face abruptly growing slack, a dull look in his dark eyes. “He told me that he fears you, that he thinks you might have killed Carden.”
Pronjed gaped at him. It was the last thing he expected the duke to say. The truth was he had killed Carden, by using his mind-bending magic to make the king plunge a dagger into his own chest. “Why does he think that?”
“He wouldn’t say. But he thinks you’re far more dangerous than we ever believed, and he convinced me of this as well.”
Numar must have known that he possessed mind-bending power. There was no other explanation for what Henthas had said, particularly since the minister’s power no longer worked on the regent.
“Tell me of Numar’s plans,” he finally commanded. Delusion was the most taxing of all his powers, and already he was tiring.
“There’s little to tell. He’s mustering a thousand more men into the army and sending most of them north to the Tarbin. When the naval war begins, they’ll attack.”
“And the dukes to the south?”
“Numar doesn’t believe they pose much of a threat. They oppose the war, but they haven’t the nerve to defy him openly.”
“So he has no intention of sending any part of his army to Orvinti or Dantrielle?”
“No.”
“Damn,” he said under his breath. He rubbed a hand over his face. This wasn’t going any better than had his conversation with Chofya. “And the girl? When does he plan to kill her?”
“He doesn’t, at least not for a long while. I think he’s grown fond of her.”
Just as Pronjed had suspected. At least that much of what he had told the Weaver was true. Weighing all that he had learned during the course of this morning, however, the archminister realized that matters were a good deal worse than he had feared. Numar, through cunning, or just good fortune, had managed to isolate him. He had befriended the young queen, he had won Henthas’s loyalty, at least for a time. And though Pronjed didn’t believe that Chofya would ally herself with the regent so long as he continued to pursue this war, he knew-and Numar must have as well-that she wanted no part of court politics anymore. She was content to raise her daughter and cultivate her gardens. Certainly, she was not about to take sides in any dispute between the regent and the archminister.
“What about me?” he asked, knowing that he couldn’t hold the duke’s mind for much longer. “Is he content simply to weaken my influence, or does he have something else in mind?”
“For now he plans nothing. But eventually he intends to prove that you’re a traitor, and have you executed.”
He should have expected as much. Still, hearing the words spoken made him shudder. He could only hope that the Weaver would move against the courts before Numar had a chance to destroy him.
Pronjed felt a dull ache at the base of his skull, and he knew that he had used his delusion magic for too long.
“You’ll remember nothing of this discussion when we’re done,” he said, his eyes locked on those of the duke. “We’ve spoken of the queen, and our desire to keep her safe. That’s all. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
The archminister nodded and released him. “Does that mean you think we should double the guard on her bedchamber?” he asked, as if in the middle of a conversation.
“What?” Henthas squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, then put a hand to his temple.
“Are you well, my lord?”
“No. My head hurts, and I can’t remember what I was saying.”
“You were telling me of your concern for Kalyi’s safety. You seemed to believe that she’s in some danger.”
“I don’t recall any of that.” He eyed the archminister warily. “What have you done to me?”
“I’ve done nothing, my lord,” Pronjed said, his heart pounding. Was this what had happened with Numar as well? Was he growing weak? At thirty-one he wasn’t an old man, not even by Qirsi standards. But neither was he young anymore. “Would you like me to call for the castle surgeon?”
“No.” Henthas made a vague gesture toward the door. “Leave me. I don’t want you near me anymore.” He was still rubbing his temple, as if in pain, and Pronjed wondered if he had damaged the man’s mind. That was said to happen occasionally when mind-bending magic was used carelessly. Had he held the duke under his power for too long?
“I’m concerned for you, my lord. Surely there’s something-”
“Get out!” Henthas said, getting to his feet and stumbling slightly. “Leave this chamber at once or I’ll have you removed!”
He had little choice but to try one last time. Reaching out with his magic once more, all too aware of how weary he was, the archminister touched the man’s mind a second time. “You’re angry with me because I suggested that you intend to harm the queen. You’ve forgotten the pain in your head.”
Pronjed released the duke again, watching him closely. Henthas’s hand strayed to his head again, but remained there for just a moment before falling to his side.
“Perhaps I should go, my lord,” the archminister said, keeping his voice low. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
The duke frowned, appearing puzzled. “Perhaps not,” he said. “But you shouldn’t have spoken to me so.”
“You’re right, my lord. My apologies.”
He bowed to the man and quickly left the chamber, fearing that if he remained any longer it would only serve to undermine the memories he had planted in the duke’s mind.
Once in the corridor, he hurried to the nearest tower and ascended the stairs to the ramparts. His head throbbed and he nearly lost his balance on the stairway. He needed time to think, but he found it difficult to clear his mind. Two guards stood at the top of the tower, but they merely nodded to him and stayed where they were as he stepped past them and walked out onto the castle wall.
Just when he most needed to turn the Eandi in Castle Solkara to his purposes, he found himself unable to influence them at all. It seemed that events were spiraling beyond his control. Numar didn’t trust him; Chofya opposed him; and after today Henthas would be wary of him as well, no matter what the duke remembered from their encounter. If he could rely on his mind-bending magic, none of this would matter, but without it he was lost. He remained a powerful sorcerer, but delusion magic only worked on the unsuspecting and it suddenly seemed that no one in Castle Solkara trusted him, at least no one of any importance. It was just a matter of time before the Weaver returned to his dreams, learned of his newest failures, and killed him in his sleep.
For as long as the archminister could remember he had seen the movement as his path to glory and power. Now it seemed that it would bring his doom, that he wouldn’t even live to see its final success. Yet even as he struggled with his fear and his self-pity, the archminister sensed the kernel of an idea forming in the recesses of his mind. There remained one to whom he could turn, one who could help him redeem himself by remedying all that had gone wrong. He wouldn’t even have to use his magic against her. The pain still lingered at the base of his skull, but it had lessened a bit, enough so that he could get through this one last encounter.
He heard bells tolling in the city and actually managed a smile as he strode to the stairway in the next tower. Midday. He knew just where she would be.