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“Yet, we need him.”

“Yes, we do, even more than you know.”

Tebeo felt his stomach tighten. “Silbron?”

Brall shook his head. “He has no desire to oppose the regent.”

“Damn!” Tebeo looked away. He had never thought that he would be so avid for civil war, but after his successes in Kett and Noltierre he had come to believe that they could stop Numar’s war, that they might even be able to wrest the crown from Solkara if the regent refused to heed their calls for peace. “So it’s over, before it’s even begun.”

“Perhaps not,” Brall said. “He won’t oppose Numar, but neither will he stand with him against us. Lord Bistari intends to remain above the fray.”

“He told you that?”

“Those were his words. I believe he’s taken a lesson from the Thorald clan in Eibithar. As the second-strongest house in Aneira, Bistari has the power to tip the balance in this conflict one way or another. By remaining neutral, Silbron leaves the outcome of any civil war very much in doubt.”

“You think he seeks to prevent such a war?”

“Maybe. Or perhaps he expects we’ll fight anyway, and when we’ve destroyed each other, Bistari will be left as the realm’s preeminent house.”

“And the throne will be his.”

Brall shrugged a second time.

It made sense. Tebeo found himself surprised that the boy had managed to conceive such a plan on his own. His father, whom Tebeo had considered a good friend, had never been so clever when it came to matters of state.

“Do you think this was his idea?”

“I believe he’s been speaking with his mother. Ria was present during many of our discussions, and I saw them speaking in private just after our first audience.”

Tebeo shook his head. “This becomes a far more dangerous proposition without Bistari.”

“Yes, it does.” Brall started to say more, but at that moment the servants returned, bearing platters of food and flagons of wine. It took some time for the food to be arranged, the wine poured. But eventually, after they had begun to eat, the duke faced Tebeo again, a morsel of dark bread in his mouth.

“What of your travels?” he asked.

Tebeo described briefly his conversations with Bertin and Ansis. “They’ll stand with us, though neither the army of Kett nor the army of Noltierre is likely to strike fear in the hearts of the Solkarans.”

“Perhaps not. But that gives us five houses in all, against only three on the other side.”

“Solkara isn’t just another house,” Tebeo said. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that. And after Bistari, Mertesse is the strongest of the dukedoms.”

Brall raised a finger. “It was once. But with Rouel dead, and Rowan’s army still suffering from its losses at Kentigern, Mertesse is no stronger than Orvinti, or Dantrielle for that matter.”

Tebeo wasn’t certain that he believed this. It had been nearly a year since the failed siege of Kentigern Tor. The army of Mertesse had to be near full strength again. Perhaps the newer soldiers lacked training, but so large an army could not be dismissed lightly. “I’d feel better if Bistari was with us.”

“So would I. But she’s not, and I won’t allow Silbron’s neutrality to force me into an alliance with the empire.”

“Did Silbron say if he would be sending men to the royal army?”

Brall shook his head. “I pressed him on the matter, but he told me nothing. To be honest, I’m not certain that he’s decided.”

“It’s a question of some importance. If Numar is only getting men from Mertesse and Rassor, he’ll have trouble mustering an army large enough to stand against us. With recruits from Bistari he becomes far more powerful.”

“I’m not sure that I agree,” Brall said. “Even if Silbron sends men to Solkara, Numar won’t have a force large enough to wage war against both Eibithar and us.”

“I’m not worried about Eibithar. And Numar won’t be either when he realizes that we’ve lined up the other houses against him. He’ll be determined to destroy us-he won’t care about anything else.”

“You didn’t argue thus when last we spoke. You seemed to think that we could avoid civil war entirely, as long as enough of us stood against the royal house.”

Tebeo nodded, knowing that his friend was right.

“I guess I’m not as confident of that as I was, particularly in light of Silbron’s refusal to join us.”

Brall said nothing, though he seemed to consider this for some time. At last, he turned to the ministers, who had kept silent throughout the dukes’ discussion.

“What say the two of you?”

Fetnalla looked up from her food. “My lord?”

“Does Bistari’s refusal to join our cause render us too weak to stand against the regent?”

The first minister shook her head, her pale eyes straying to Tebeo’s face for just an instant. “No, I don’t believe it does. Mertesse and Solkara may be powerful, but their combined might is no greater than that of Orvinti, Dantrielle, and Noltierre. And with Tounstrel and Kett joining us, I believe we have the advantage. I don’t think the regent will risk a civil war with such a force arrayed against him.”

Tebeo was watching his minister, who continued to stare at her cup of wine, as if it were a gleaning stone. She was smaller than Fetnalla, and some might have thought her less graceful than Brall’s minister. Tebeo had heard Evanthya compare Fetnalla to a pale heron, and it was an apt description. Evanthya was plainer, not as long of limb, or fair of face. But in the years Evanthya had served Dantrielle, Tebeo had come to realize that she was as courageous as any man in his army, and as intelligent as any noble in the land. “Evanthya?” he asked now.

She pursed her lips briefly. Clearly the duke had placed her in a difficult position, asking her if she agreed with Fetnalla when it seemed plain that she didn’t. But in this instance the needs of House Dantrielle outweighed any consideration he might have given her feelings.

“I have to disagree, my lord,” she finally said.

Tebeo saw anger flash like sorcerer’s fire in Fetnalla’s eyes, but he couldn’t say if Evanthya noticed.

“If we’re to have any hope of standing against the regent,” Evanthya went on, “the army we command needs to be far stronger than that of the royal house. It’s not enough to lead a force that’s merely a match for Numar’s. Time and again the Solkarans have shown their willingness to fight when others might have thought better of it. It’s one of the reasons their supremacy has lasted so long. Regardless of whether you think them brave or foolhardy, they are ruthless. Unless he knows for certain that he can’t prevail, Numar will fight. And even should we manage to win, I fear what such a conflict would do to the realm.”

“For one thing, it may end the supremacy you fear so much.” Fetnalla was glaring at her. Tebeo had never seen Orvinti’s minister look so angry. “By fighting the Solkarans we give Bistari the opportunity she needs to take the crown, and we keep the realm from entering into this alliance with the empire. Surely these are reasons enough to fight.”

“I must say, First Minister,” Tebeo said, eyeing Evanthya, “I’m surprised to hear you argue as you do now. You were the one who convinced me to begin this process.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Now you regret doing so?”

His minister shrugged. “I fear for the realm, my lord. And with Bistari remaining neutral, I fear for your life and that of Lord Orvinti.”

He held her gaze for another moment, then nodded. “Very well, Evanthya. Why don’t you and Lord Orvinti’s first minister leave us for now. I wish to speak with the duke alone.”

She stood, as did Fetnalla. “Of course, my lord.”

The ministers bowed and left, and Tebeo waved one of the servants over and had the boy refill his goblet.

“It seems that I can say to you much the same thing that I just said to Evanthya.”

Brall raised an eyebrow. “I don’t understand.”