Treason's Shore (74 page)

“No! I just—”

Vedrid met them at the tower stair outside the Harskialdna suite, his demeanor formal. Inda fell silent.

“There is a . . . person who wishes to speak with you, Harvaldar-Dal. And you, Harskialdna-Dal.”

“Where’d you stash the body?” Inda asked.

A corner of Vedrid’s mouth lifted, but he stayed in formal mode. “She came to the throne room.”

“The throne room?” four voices repeated in variations of surprise and disbelief. No one used the throne room except for Convocation, royal weddings, memorials, or royal judgments with an execution directly following. The single exception had been spring, when it became part of the indoor academy.

“That’s where the south side roaming patrol found her. And that’s where she says she’ll stay. She says she is from Lindeth Harbor.” He added, “A Mistress Pim.”

The high clerestory windows glowed with nearly horizontal rays of ochre light. The row of banners on the gallery walls gleamed and glittered with rare color. Standing before the throne gazing upward stood a stolid woman with a grim face and hair skinned back into a bun in the old Iascan style. This was Ryala, not her mother, who had retired from the business.

Evred, Hadand, and Inda were too familiar with the room to pay attention to the eerie lighting. Signi turned her gaze upward to see what it was that Ryala Pim studied so closely. When she identified the brown-stained, ripped bloodred banner that had flown over Castle Andahi, the cold of winter ice ran through her veins.

War is nigh. And I cannot stay
. Signi bowed her head and slipped out unnoticed by three of the four.

Evred ran up the dais, flanked by his wife and shield arm, who took stances at either side of the throne. Only Tdor remained on the floor, a little distance away, where she could see everyone, including Signi’s quiet exit.

Pim stood stiffly, taking in the familiar faces of Marlovan king and war leader. In the fading light they looked even tougher and harder than they had seven years ago, when she’d glimpsed them last. She braced herself up. “You did fair by me once, the both of you. So I’m here, on behalf of the Fleet Guild,” she said in her slow northern Iascan.

“The Fleet Guild?” Inda repeated.

She ducked her head in a half nod, half bow. “The Fleet Guild wanted to get a message to you, Indovun Algraveer. No one else would come into your land, so here I am.”

Inda glanced at Evred, then said, “Your message is?”

“The Venn took Llyenthur and the western end of Drael. Last I heard, two months ago, they’ve settled in for winter. Right after the big typhoon raked the strait, they sent some bully boys in winged hats with a warning to Bren. Some say to the north side, too. To go back to the old ways, them ruling the seas. Tariffs and supplies paid them. Anyone surrenders, they
say
won’t be touched.” She pointed up at the bloody banner. “But we all know how well they keep their word. So Fleet Master Chim sent a message by magic transfer to our Fleet Guild desk, and I came here to ask you to go and defend Bren.”

“I can’t get our army raised and marched to Bren by summer,” Inda stated.

“Nobody wants your army,” she retorted, sharp with fear.

Evred raised his brows at her rudeness, but even in the fading light her face was blanched, anxious.

Pim went on less truculently, “They do want you to lead a fleet against the Venn. Like you once promised. Fleet Guild believes only you can do it, and Chim says Prince Kavnarac told him that other kingdoms in the east are saying the same thing.”

“Me?”

“According to the prince, Khanerenth’s king says he’ll declare a full pardon if the Freedom Island independents sail under their former admiral, you know, at Freedom—”

“Dhalshev of Freedom Isles,” Inda said. “I remember.”

“Dhalshev says he is willing to lead Khanerenth under your command, independents and navy both.” She snorted. “Despite Deliyeth of Everon’s claims, we know who really won at The Fangs.”

Inda send a puzzled look Evred’s way. “I didn’t know about any battle at The Fangs,” Inda said in Marlovan.

Evred addressed Ryala Pim in Iascan. “Return on the morrow. We will have an answer then.” He got to his feet and walked away, Inda following after exchanging a pained look with his wife.

Hadand signed to her Runner, who led the rigid woman off to be housed in the guest hall.

Out in the courtyard Inda turned to Evred. “Did Barend tell you about a battle off The Fangs?”

“This was a couple of years ago. My last direct communication with him, he reported only that a sea battle was imminent,” Evred said. “He lost his locket during it. I subsequently found out that the Venn had retreated, and so trade was resuming. It did not seem pertinent to our affairs here to report any of that to you.”

“I sure didn’t think to ask.” Inda grimaced. “I used to know everything going on in the southern seas. Now I’m behind, what, how many years since I came home?”

As they ran upstairs Inda thought back, trying to recover when he’d last heard any news of the Fox Banner Fleet. Then he remembered throwing his golden scroll-case into Tdor’s fireplace in a fit of temper and reddened. It was his own fault.

Evred kicked the door to his private office shut. “The kingdoms along the strait are all in turmoil, according to Taumad. I haven’t said anything to you or Hadand because their internal affairs are their own business. Just as they left the pirates and Venn to us a few years ago.”

Inda turned out his hand. He didn’t care about the matters of kings. It was the individuals he wanted to hear about, but he’d let time slide by without troubling himself to ask.

Evred went on, his manner tense. “It sounds like the kingdoms along the strait are far worse than Idayago was before we went north: kings conspiring against one another, secret deals and spies and lies, not just lurking in alleys but high in courts and palaces. My mother sees that as normal dealings. She even likes it, or at least the social side. Taumad finds it all amusing. I . . .” His voice suspended, and he stared out the window as the guards-in-training ran along the sentry ways, snapping alight the torches. He swung around to face Inda. “They’re weak. Like the Idayagans were. Too busy squabbling with one another over who will pay for what, who gets what. The Venn will smash them.”

Inda sighed. “Probably. But if they do, then they’ll come after us. Especially since the plot against you failed.”

“Against me?” Evred repeated.

“You already knew about it.” Inda flicked his hand open. “Magic. Take away your brains. You remember. Well, Erkric was going for it, only in secret.”

Evred controlled the recoil, but blood beat in his ears. “I thought that idea was hypothetical. That the threat ended when the Venn left.”

Inda sighed, and smacked the edge of Evred’s desk. “I didn’t tell you because . . .” Another smack. “Well, the reason Signi disappeared is, Erkric blamed their problems on her. She got hunted down and put on trial. And tortured.”

“I had no idea.”

“I don’t think she even wanted to tell me. But I saw her scars.” Inda paused to get control of his own voice. Weird, how the very word
torture
brought a surge of anger—he wanted to smash something. He released his breath instead. “D’you see? The hunters that nabbed her were training to go after you next. Erkric’s secret plan, so he could control you as well as their king. Her friends couldn’t save her, but they made sure Erkric can’t get you. You’re protected by magic now. Long’s you stay in this city.”

Evred was far more adept at hiding anger. Magic,
how
he loathed it. There was no defense against so immoral and horrific a personal trespass. To take away someone’s mind! It was worse than death. If he died, there would be another king; Hadand was strong enough to hold Iasca Leror for Hastred.
But if I am made into Erkric’s puppet, forced to mouth out Erkric’s commands . . .

The horror was inexpressible.

When Evred spoke alarm burned through Inda’s nerves. Evred only whispered in that deadly soft tone when he was in a cold rage.

“So we can be certain, then, that the Venn’s next try against us will be the massive invasion.” Torchlight from the windows gleamed in Evred’s wide eyes, twin leaps of ruddy flame. The rest of him was in shadow: he did not clap on the glowglobe. “They want the strait so they can coordinate a large scale effort and aim everything they have at us. Probably in the very same plan you once outlined, and as much as we’ve recovered, we would never stand against that. There aren’t enough of us.” Then, in a less deadly tone, “Could you defend the strait?”

Inda sank down into one of Evred’s wing back chairs. “I don’t know. I doubt Bren’s got enough ships, or they wouldn’t be wanting me. But even if the fleet Jeje was training is still somewhere waiting for me—and I don’t believe it, as I stopped paying them before the Venn attacked us here—sending indies, fishers, and privateers against well-drilled warships would not be like my old fleet fighting pirates. We counted on pirates not trusting one another enough to learn to fight together. That would not be true of the Venn.”

Evred opened his hand. “So it’s impossible, is what you are saying?”

“Depends on what sort of allies I’d get, and what I’d have at the center to build around. Don’t know where Fox is with the Fox Banner Fleet—or if he’d respond.”

“Center to build around.” Evred paced along his torchlit windows, hands gripped tightly behind his back. “If your fleet with Savarend Montredavan-An was willing to become the core of a Marlovan navy . . . that would not break the treaty agreement. I would pay them. Do you think they would accept that?”

Inda whistled. “Fox’d have to decide for himself, but I suspect the others would go wherever there’s pay. But how would I even find him? It would take years! Last I remember of my gold case is kicking it into Tdor’s fireplace. Dunno if it exists, and if it does, if it even works.”

“It does, and it does. Tdor rescued and kept it.” And then, though it took an effort, “I have been reading the missives in it from time to time.”

Evred knew he would have put to death without hesitation any man who had breached his own privacy in that way, and yet he had done it to Inda, the man he trusted most.

Inda leaned forward, and because Evred could not see his face—he had not wanted Inda seeing his—he clapped on the globe.

The light threw the shadows back. Though Evred had little appreciation of figurative language, Inda’s thought processes had always reminded him of a running stream. Inda seemed clear as water, and yet, if you assumed you saw straight to the bottom, the illusion of the bent stick was a reminder of how easy it was to trick the eye. Inda was clear, he seemed to hide nothing, yet Evred could not predict Inda’s reactions when it mattered most.

Inda groped impatiently. “Well, what was in it? I’ll eat this desk if Jeje ever wrote me. And Tau lost his, as I recall him telling us. The only one who wrote back to me was Fox, and that was usually to jab at me.”

“There were a few letters from him. Nothing that seemed important enough to interrupt your ongoing duties. Though the most recent one repeated gossip about the Venn. The letters are there—not many—when you want to read them.”

Inda lunged out of the chair. This time Evred sat down, to be out of Inda’s way as he prowled the perimeter of the crimson and gold rug. “So if I can find Fox . . .”

“Can you do it?” Evred said again.

Inda grunted, tapping the windowsill, the inner door latch, the desk, the wall, the top of a wingback chair, then circled around again. “Look, Sponge. Here’s where I keep coming back. If they’ve got their entire fleet, why didn’t they take the strait already? Why dig in at Llyenthur and send threats? Even if they took damage after that typhoon Ryala Pim mentioned, they’d still be stronger than anything . . .”

Evred waited.

Inda pounded the windowsill, the chair back, the windowsill, the chair back. “Rajnir. It’s got to go back to Rajnir and Erkric and all that.” He whirled around. “Where’s my chart? Where’s my—oh, yes. On the
Death
. Right. Right . . .”

Evred said finally, “Right what?”

Inda whirled around and paced back. “Ever since the Pim ships were attacked, when I was pigtail-age, I’ve fought the battle the enemy brought to me. Even the pirates. I figured we were close enough in force for me to have a chance. This battle, even if the Venn are weak, that weakness is relative, I’ve got to pick the ground, but is that enough?”

“The reports all mention three hundred ships. More. Isn’t that what came against us?”

“They now have over three hundred
warships,
what they call the
drakans
. They’ll have more like a thousand with the raiders and that.”

“And you think them weakened in some way?”

Inda jabbed a finger toward the window. “Relative.
Something
’s wrong.” He stopped abruptly. “I need Signi’s deep sea navigation. If she plans to give it to Sartor, why not teach it to me first?”

Evred had no answer. Inda wouldn’t have heard one if he’d spoken. He clutched his head, then exclaimed, “I have to write to Fox. Will you give me leave, if I do come up with a plan?”

“I could never deny you anything,” Evred answered. And wished the words unsaid.

But Inda just laughed and rubbed his hands. “Then let’s fetch out that scroll-case! I’ll write to Fox and see if I have a fleet, or if it’ll be just Chim and me in a jolly-boat waving the Fox banner and yipping as loud as we can.”