She tried to guide the Council through the discussions, but no one had their mind on anything. She was just as distracted as them. The minor points of government, all that was left to the Council, seemed petty in comparison to the troubles of the kingdom. Alexander was dead. How was she going to tell his grandchildren that? They’d already lost both of their parents. What was going to happen to them now? Rian would be Lady of Lokrian, of course, but she was barely older than Niara. Someone would have to be regent for her.
It wasn’t as if the Council could do anything that wasn’t already being done. The king had ridden south with all his Knights and any of the remaining Regulars. Any actions there were best left to their king and the generals. They could talk about the war, of course, but they couldn’t actually do anything.
Vinet leaned forward and put her head in her hands. She was the only one still seated in the council chamber. The rest had drifted off, to one business or another.
She heard someone clear their throat, and she looked up. She stiffened as she saw Lord Auriel standing at the door. He was as perfect and impeccable as ever. Despite that, or perhaps because of that, there was an inhuman aura about him. A shiver ran down her spine. What does he want with me? He had never sought her out before, not even after the events of his wedding. Surely he didn’t want to discuss her visions now. Dannan had promised to keep them a secret. She was not certain she could keep the secret of her heritage from Lord Auriel if he pressed.
“Lady et-Alim, might I have a moment of your time?”
She nodded and began to rise. He gestured for her to remain seated.
She ordered her heart to remain at a normal tempo. As intimidating as the king had been, somehow Lord Auriel was more so. He always was. No one can be that perfect, that cool, that impassive, she thought.
“My wife told me an intriguing tale,” Lord Auriel said. “I was hoping you might shed some more light on it.”
She relaxed slightly. Not my visions. Thank you, Mazda, not my visions. Not that this topic was not hazardous in its own way. “You are speaking of Lord MacTir and his visit to me,” she said.
Although it was a statement and not a question, Lord Auriel nodded in confirmation. “Tell me what happened.”
She suppressed a shiver at the thin edge in Lord Auriel’s normally flawless tone. She would not want to be in Conn’s place right now.
She cleared her throat. “Lord MacTir paid me an unexpected visit. He had heard that I had found Lord General Torainn’s mistress and bastard son, and claimed he wanted to question her about his whereabouts.”
Lord Auriel raised an eyebrow.
She nodded grimly. “Indeed. As the conversation progressed, it became apparent that he had lied. He had already met Lord General Torainn and was instead searching for proof, one way or another, of the veracity of his story. As I heard it from Lord MacTir, Torainn had vehemently denied the existence of a mistress and bastard, so he wanted to listen to Eithne’s story himself and judge the truth of the matter.”
“And what was his judgment?” Lord Auriel asked.
Vinet was aware of being balanced on a razor’s edge. But it was not her fate at stake, instead it was that of a fellow councilor and noble. She chose her words carefully as she spoke.
“I am not certain what he thought of Eithne’s story,” she said. “But I think in the end he was convinced that Torainn’s plans, whatever they were, had no place occurring during our current situation.”
“And those plans?” Lord Auriel’s voice was cool now, having lost the single hot edge Vinet had noticed earlier. She suppressed a shiver. He almost seemed human before. He was angry. But now he’s controlled again. Why? And why does that not comfort me?
How was she to answer that? She had to remain truthful. “Lord General Torainn believed the king under the influence of his advisors, specifically you, Lord Auriel,” she said. “He told Lord MacTir that you were responsible for the king’s illness.” She closed her eyes. “He did not tell me this part; your lady wife did. Lord General Torainn was distraught to hear of Lady Kianna’s death, and swore to do to your wife and child what had been done to his.”
She suppressed another shiver at the thought of murdering an infant and opened her eyes. She forced herself to meet Lord Auriel’s eyes.
His expression remained unchanged. He simply nodded. “Thank you for confirming the series of events,” he said. “Lord MacTir will be dealt with.”
She felt her breath catch. “Dealt with?” she asked. “In what way?”
Lord Auriel raised an eyebrow, and she squared her shoulders.
“As temporary Lady of the Council, I need to know what will happen to the councilors,” she said. “Especially in times like these.”
He made a gesture of concession with his hand. “Since Lord MacTir admitted his actions to me when I questioned him just now, he shall be given a chance to redeem himself,” he said. “He did not send his men to the southeast, therefore his garrison is still at full strength. He shall take his garrison and what remains of Lord Tiber and Lord Artosbern II’s men. He is to hunt and slay the beast Darkmane, also known as Torainn.”
Vinet felt her heart stop. The image rose up before her of the dark figure on horseback, charging the castle of Lord Artosbern II. How did Conn stand a chance against such shadow and fury?
Lord Auriel seemed to know what she was thinking. “He has his entire garrison, and the support of the local troops. He is a military man. If anything can redeem him, this can.”
Vinet admitted to herself that there was sense to Lord Auriel’s words. Although Conn had not committed any act of treason, he had certainly contemplated it. She suspected his confession to Lord Auriel had as much to do with the king’s recovery as anything else. Whatever else he was, Conn was an honorable man. The king’s newfound health was proof enough for him that Lord Auriel had not caused his illness. Unless Lord Auriel heard the rumors and changed his plans. She shook the thought away. That was basest speculation.
Besides, if Lord Auriel had given Conn his orders, there was really nothing she could do. Her own garrison had only the strength to patrol the roads around Ninaeva. She couldn’t send him any support. She spoke slowly. “I believe it will.”
Lord Auriel smiled. “And this will solve one of the primary issues facing the Council currently,” he said. “With Darkmane defeated, the northeast can be rebuilt and secured. Perhaps in a style inspired by Ninaeva, a shining beacon of civilization in the north.”
She braced herself for possible irony. But she heard none. “Thank you, Lord Auriel,” she said.
She expected him to leave. After all, he’d gotten confirmation of Conn’s story. Was that not what he had approached her about?
“There is another matter, Lady et-Alim, that I hoped you might indulge me on.”
She felt her shoulders tense. “And what is that, Lord Auriel?” she managed to keep her voice level.
“I have heard that you know of sightings of dragons?”
She blinked. Of all the things he could have asked her, that was not what she had been expecting.
“I…” she hesitated. “Possibly,” she admitted. She frowned and tilted her head. “Why do you ask?”
“Simple curiosity.”
Somehow, she doubted that. While much of him was enigma, there was one fact she knew: Lord Auriel never did anything for simple curiosity. After a moment’s thought, though, she didn’t see the harm in answering him.
“Some time ago, a Venian explorer came to the Council asking us to fund an expedition up the coast,” she said. “Lord Kamian and I invested some of our private resources into it. In the journal the explorer sent home, he mentioned sighting a dragon.”
“Could you send me a copy of this journal?” Lord Auriel asked.
“Of course,” she said. “I will be happy to order a copy made for you.”
She kept quiet about the dark shape that had been seen in the sky on her boat ride to Venia. For one, she wasn’t certain if it h
ad been a dragon. For another, she didn’t really want Lord Auriel to know how she’d gotten there, if he knew she’d even been there at all.
Luckily, Lord Auriel seemed satisfied with her tale. He nodded and rose to leave. “Thank you for your time, Lady et-Alim.”
Something compelled her to speak up. “Lord Auriel?” she asked.
Lord Auriel glanced at her. “Yes?”
“Does the king have a plan?” She couldn’t say what compelled her to ask that question.
Lord Auriel’s eyebrows merely rose a trifle. “He is the king. He always has a plan. And currently, that plan is to rid Saemar of the scourge from Mount Halon.”
Lord Auriel turned and walked out of the room.
Vinet stared after him, unsatisfied. Why had the king just packed up and left? He had just recovered. Had he truly regained all his strength?
And what was she supposed to do about it? What could she do?
**********
What can I do? That thought haunted her for the next two weeks. Aside from Conn, none of the council members left the capital. No word had been heard from him, or from the front lines.
“Vinet. Stop pacing.”
She looked up from the garden path. Gwyn was staring at her, her arms folded over her chest. Gwyn shook her head. “Pacing doesn’t help. Do something.”
“Like what?” Vinet asked. She paced a few more steps before stopping. “I can’t do anything about the situations in the south or north, we’ve heard nothing, our scouts seem to have been lost, and I can’t do anything! I’m so distracted I can’t even read!”
Gwyn walked over and put an arm around Vinet’s shoulders. “It’s hard,” she said. “But the waiting is always the hardest. That’s the first thing a warrior learns when they go to battle.”
Vinet suppressed a curse. “Well, I’m not a warrior,” she said. She sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped.”
Gwyn smiled. “You’re tense,” she said. “You need a distraction.”
She shook her head. “I can’t think of anything.”
Gwyn gave her a small shove. “Go talk to Nazir,” she said. “The two of you need to spend some time to yourselves.”
Vinet flushed at what Gwyn’s words implied. She shook her head at her blood-sister. “You’re incorrigible.”
Gwyn grinned. “Hey, you’re the one who defied all expectations and actually married the man. The least I can do is keep you two together.”
Despite herself, she felt a smile spreading over her face. “Do you know where he is?”
“Your chambers,” Gwyn said, smiling impudently.
Vinet flushed deeper and shook her head again. Nonetheless, she walked inside, ignoring Gwyn’s satisfied chuckle.
Nazir was indeed in their bedchamber, bent over a desk copying something out. Vinet watched him for nearly a full minute, smiling a little at how oblivious her observant Nazir could be when buried in his work.
He blinked as he glanced up. “Vinet!” He set the materials aside and rose to his feet, avoiding scattering quills and ink by a near miracle. He moved to stand next to her, a question in his eyes. “I thought you were in the garden?”
She shrugged, her frustration bubbling up inside her again. “I couldn’t think,” she said.
Nazir frowned and pulled her into an embrace. She buried her face in his shoulder, reveling in the warm comfort.
“How are you doing?” he asked softly.
She sighed. “It’s the waiting,” she said, echoing Gwyn’s words. “It’s the not knowing. It’s going to drive me mad.”
She felt him stroke her hair. “I’m told that’s common in situations like these.”
She grimaced. “It doesn’t make it any easier.”
She sensed his hesitation, and she pulled away a few inches to look him in the eyes. “What is it?”
Nazir regarded her. “You have to judge how much this is a good idea,” he said. “But you are not without the resources to remedy the lack of knowledge.”
She stilled. He was right. She could look, could search for Conn and the king. She could find out what was happening to them. She could use the Sight. She wouldn’t be able to change anything, but she would at least be able to see.
“Vinet,” Nazir held her shoulders. “Do not do this if it will cause you harm.”
She gave it serious consideration. She’d used the Sight in the Bern Forest before to witness Darkmane’s attack on the castle. And although she’d never used the Sight to see anything in the southeast, it couldn’t be that bad now that Manyu’s mark was gone. She could end the vision if she needed to. Her father had taught her that.
She nodded. “I can do it,” she said.
Nazir smiled and leaned forward. He kissed her. “Just be careful.”
She nodded and moved to sit on the side of the bed. Nazir sat next to her and gently clasped one of her hands. She gave him a brief smile, then reached down. Down to the roots of the trees surrounding the townhouse, to the branches, and then skipping northward, towards the Bern Forest. She found the thorn tree by the castle easily enough. Somehow it had been left standing. Yet destruction reigned around it. The castle had been decimated. The walls were crumbling as if decades had passed. Bodies lay strewn around, and blood soaked into every stalk of grass.
She sent a plea to the thorn to sharpen her gaze. It obliged, and she winced. The thorns always took their price in pain.
The livery. It was Artosbern’s men, as well as Lord Tiber’s. This was the aftermath of their battle, then. No sign of Conn.
She reached out, searching. There had to be more than elm and elder in the entire forest. There, an ash. She shivered as she touched it. Cold and hard, but not deadly like the elder.
A hunting horn sounded, and she sank deeper into the tree. She gritted her teeth as the cold sank into her bones. A flash of steel. The pounding of hooves. Blood flowing down to the ground. A dark shape, his horse rearing, shouting in triumph. The screams of the dying. Grimly, she held on. It was Darkmane himself. And he had found Conn’s forces.
As if her thought summoned him, Conn himself came riding forward, his sword held high. He let out a wild war cry and crashed into Darkmane’s side. His sword cut deep, and blood flowed down the horse’s side.
Darkmane seemed unaffected. He swung his sword, almost lazily, and stabbed it deep into Conn’s heart.
Vinet flinched at the heart-wrenching roar that sounded through the forest. Conn’s burly bodyguard rose from the ground, charging forward. He had no horse and was covered in blood. He raised an axe and chopped, felling Darkmane’s horse with one blow. His second blow took Darkmane. The dark figure shrieked in agony, and all the trees seemed to echo his pain.
Conn’s bodyguard yelled his grief to the sky and stumbled over to where Conn’s body lay sprawled beside his horse. He fell onto his lord as an arrow lodged in his throat.
Vinet forced herself to move around the tree, to see everything. Conn’s men were decimated, but so were the Cossack riders. A few unseemly creatures still milled around, as well as several Unfaithful archers, but there was no leadership left. Not on either side.
A hail of arrows flew towards her, and she instinctively flinched. The elder reached for her with its eager branch-fingers.
She flung herself out of the ash tree, racing southwards. She knew sweat was pouring down her body, but she couldn’t stop now. If that was what had happened to Conn, what about the king?
There were no forests in the southeast. Behind the lines, Vinet could only sense barren wasteland and dead wood. She flinched.
Alexander’s Lokrian estate. An old apple tree, still standing. Cautiously, Vinet melded into it. Apples were tricky.
It welcomed her with a sigh and tried to pull her in even deeper. She kept her distance. She had no wish to be trapped in the apples.
The battle was raging. Lokrian was decimated, even worse than Artosbern’s castle. The buildings of the estate were nothing but rubble, the orchards were nothing but a
sh. Vinet felt her heart breaking at the destruction.
Numerous figures made up the massive hoard of Mount Halon. They were mostly human, dressed in robes and armor that held Manyu’s symbol, some elves, and other dark figures, but all with the eyes of fanatics. One dark figure rose above the rest, a skull mask in place of a face.
The Saemarian line held firm, though. The Regulars stood proud, their uniforms splattered in blood. A group of black-clad knights surrounded the king who sat tall and proud on his horse, his golden crown gleaming in the sun. As Vinet watched, he raised his sword high and yelled a command to charge.
The thundering of horse’s hooves. The flashing of steel. The screams of pain. The crash as the forces collided.
The apple tree shook, and Vinet fought to maintain control of her vision.
The Regulars were fighting hard. Despite the screams and the dying, the cultists weren’t wearing as much armor, and that was making the difference. The Regulars pushed forward, inspired by their king who was ahead of his knights, making a beeline for the figure with the skull mask. The knights were fighting towards him, trying their best to keep up.
Vinet watched in horror as the ground shook, and the figure raised a huge sword to smite the king. Andreas held his own sword high and let out a triumphant yell.
A flash of light, too blinding for her to see anything. The screams of everyone around her. The light faded, and the battle raged. A black cloud rose in the air, circling darkly. It loomed menacingly towards the Saemarian troops.
A cry distracted everyone, Saemarian and cultist alike. The king held his sword aloft and cast it towards the tall figure.
A scream shook the air, and the cloud trembled violently. Then it exploded, dazzling light showered over the sky. A single line of lightning arched down, striking towards the king.
The king cried out, and Vinet could see the pain on his face. She watched in horror as the tall figure leaned down, the sword still stuck in its shoulder. It picked the king up like a doll.
The king cried out again, and every soldier in the army, as well as Vinet, shook in terror. The lightning arced again. There was a dark laugh, rising from the ground.
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