by C. J. Archer
The king shook his head. "Vytill has been a rich country because it had a lot of people. Now those people want to move here, which will make Glancia rich."
Balthazar shook his head and Theodore and Dane exchanged another glance. "That's not why Vytill is rich," Balthazar said. "It became rich because its port was important to the entire peninsula. All trade routes on The Fist led to Port Haven, so traders had to pass through Vytill to reach it. With Port Haven's influence ended, Vytill must now rely on its mines for income. I don't know how profitable those mines are, but it's a surety that the kingdom will grow poorer by the day."
"If I may, sire," I said.
"Yes, Miss Cully."
"I spoke to a Vytill family yesterday. They told me they came here to find a better life but, so far, have found only worse. It's not just Mull villagers who are suffering but the Vytill migrants. They can't get jobs and they have no money."
"And I say again, what do they expect me to do?" the king asked. "I can't create the jobs for them, and I can't pay them to do nothing. They're not my people. I shouldn't have to feed them."
"They are your people now," Dane said.
The king sighed heavily and rubbed his temples again. "This is giving me a headache."
"It's clear there needs to be a short term solution to prevent starvation," Balthazar said, "and a long term plan to provide employment."
"Oh, really?" the king said with a roll of his eyes. This time there was no doubt he spoke sarcastically. "So far I am not hearing solutions, only a restatement of the problems. And no, closing the border isn't a solution. The people of The Fist should be allowed to move between countries if they wish, if they pay a nominal fee."
"There are better solutions," Dane said, "but they'll require sacrifice."
"Who by?"
"You, and the other nobles."
The king pushed to his feet and strode to the window. He rested his hands on the sill and stared down at the gardens below. "It's a beautiful day. I should be out there with my friends, not stuck in here doing paperwork."
"You're not doing paperwork," Dane said. "You're discussing ways to save your people from starvation."
The king shot Dane a flinty glare over his shoulder. "You'll speak to me without that tone, thank you, Hammer. You've already angered me once today, by neglecting your duty, don't add to the tally."
Neglecting his duty?
"Sire," Dane said icily.
"You want to be a good king, don't you, sire?" Theodore asked quickly. "Isn't that how you'd like to be remembered?"
The king sat back in the chair again and clasped his hands over his stomach. "Let me hear your suggestions."
"Offer food from your own gardens and allow villagers to hunt in your forests in low numbers," Balthazar said. He spoke smoothly, and neither Dane nor Theodore seemed surprised by his suggestion. I suspected they'd already discussed it. "The grand huntsman can monitor wildlife numbers and stop the hunts if the animal populations dwindle too much. We see this as a temporary measure only, sire."
The king glanced between all three, as if he too suddenly realized they'd already discussed this among themselves. His lips pressed together. "No. Absolutely not. A king must have his own land. He must have food aplenty to feed everyone at the palace."
"You don't need to have all the nobles here," Dane said. "Send them home. Let them feed themselves from their own lands."
"But I like having them here," the king whined. He chewed on his nail again. "What else do you suggest?"
Dane's shoulders tensed and Theodore's gaze drifted to the ceiling. The knuckles gripping the head of Balthazar's walking stick turned white.
"In the longer term," Balthazar went on in an even tone, "you could generate employment through capital works."
"What's that?"
"Building roads, municipal buildings, that sort of thing. If Mull becomes the administrative center of Glancia, then it will need better paved roads, good bridges, bigger buildings, a proper market."
The king's fingers tapped lightly on the desk as he thought, and his lips twisted this way and that. "I do see merit in your suggestions, but what if I need to raise an army only to find I've spent all my money on buildings and roads that may never be needed? Glancia doesn't have a proper army and it should, as it becomes more important. King Phillip has an army."
"You won't need to fight Vytill if you marry the Princess Illiriyia," Theodore said.
"Don't, Theo," the king barked. "I'm tired of hearing her name."
Theodore bowed his head. "Apologies, sire."
"Hammer, tell me, does Dreen have an army?"
"A small one," Dane said. "A Glancian army could be formed if the need arose, but there's no evidence that one is needed, sire. Besides, most of the nobles have well-trained retainers and arms that we can call on in the event of trouble. There are also fifty warrior priests in Tilting at your disposal."
"That isn't enough. Besides, they're dedicated to Merdu, not me. The king of what will become The Fist's most important kingdom should have his own dedicated army." He heaved a sigh and looked longingly at the window. "What do the people want me to do, Miss Cully? I'd like to hear your suggestions."
"Me?" I'd felt like a fly on the wall for most of the meeting as the men discussed matters that had nothing to do with me. I thought the king had forgotten about me.
"Yes, you. You're my window to the world of Mull and the common people." He must have liked how that sounded because he smiled. "So tell me, what do the people think should be done?"
"It depends on who you talk to," I said carefully. "First and foremost, they want better law enforcement. If the sheriff employs more men, and arrests are made, the Vytill migrants who are getting drunk and starting fights will know there are consequences to their actions, and the Glancian dissenters won't be so eager to get rid of them if they see justice is served."
"That's already being implemented." He looked pleased. "Good. Then it's settled."
"There's more," I said quickly, lest Dane, Theodore and Balthazar think I didn't like their suggestions.
"That will do for now. Better law enforcement is vital, not just for Mull but for the entire kingdom. An army can be used in domestic situations too, like in last night's riot. Thank you, Miss Cully, you've been very helpful."
"But—"
"Speaking of the sheriff, what do you know about him?"
I swallowed what I was going to say with great difficulty. It galled me that he thought I'd been suggesting law enforcement as the only necessary solution, but he didn't want to hear the truth from me. I doubted he wanted to hear it from his men either, but at least they were paid to speak honestly. My presence at the palace was too precarious to push too hard.
"He's a good man," I said.
"And the governor?"
I hesitated.
"Go on, Miss Cully."
"He's your man, sire."
"I know that, but I asked what you think of him. Does he do a good job, in your opinion and that of other Mullians?"
I glanced at Dane, and he gave a barely perceptible nod of encouragement. "The governor isn't well liked or respected by the villagers," I said.
The king frowned. "Really? That's not what I heard."
No doubt Lady Morgrave had whispered something in his ear to the opposite effect. The governor was, after all, firmly in her family's pocket. "You asked me what the villagers thought of him, sire," I said. "I can only speak on their behalf."
His fingers tapped on the desk to an erratic beat. "He's in a difficult position. I can't imagine he has easy decisions to make. Much like a king, only on a smaller scale. You understand, Miss Cully?"
"I do, sire, but there are stories of his corruption, of him making decisions to benefit a few, rather than the many."
"Perhaps those were the best decisions for the village. Thank you, Miss Cully, that will be all. The rest of you may leave too. I have a headache and wish to lie down. Theo, come back later and help me dress for a
stroll in the garden. Inform Lady Morgrave that I wish to walk with her."
I curtseyed and the men bowed themselves out of the room. Dane shut the door and jerked his head for us to follow him.
In deference to Balthazar's limp, we made our way slowly down to his office near the garrison. No one spoke except to greet the palace servants we passed in the corridors. It was as if a bubble enveloped us, growing ever larger with each step until it was so big it must burst.
The bubble lasted until we made it to Balthazar's office. Dane was the one to wield the pin that popped it. "He thinks the treasury is his personal coffer," he muttered, closing the door.
Balthazar stamped the end of his walking stick into the floor with each step. "And that the role of king requires nothing more than dressing well and attending balls."
"That's not true, Bal, and you know it," Theodore said, holding a chair out for me. "He's trying to be a good king. You've heard him say he wants to be a good king."
"That was months ago. And he's not trying hard enough."
"Shhh. Lower your voice."
Balthazar huffed out a breath. "I'm old. I don't know why I bother trying to make him a better king and Glancia a better place. I'll be dead before any plans are fully implemented, even if he starts a major capital works programs tomorrow."
"Perhaps it's something in your past that drives you to care about the kingdom," I said.
The Master of the Palace narrowed his gaze at me. "Is that your professional opinion or do you just like stating the obvious?"
"Bal!" Dane snapped. "Don't take your frustration out on her, or anyone."
"I blame your age, Balthazar," I shot back. "And that is both my professional opinion and a statement of the obvious."
The wrinkles in Balthazar's brow flattened and the ones around his eyes deepened. My retort had almost earned me a smile.
"Give the king time," Theodore said as he lowered himself onto the other chair, "he just needs to think about what we said today, to weigh up his options."
"For how long?" Balthazar asked. "And what if he makes a foolish decision?"
Dane was the only one with an answer to that question, and it came in the form of a cup of strong wine from a jug on the sideboard. He handed it to Balthazar and rested his hand on the old man's shoulder. "We can only do so much. Trust that he'll make the right decision."
Balthazar grunted as he accepted the cup. "You have more faith than I do, Hammer."
"He's a good man, deep down. He's just overwhelmed. Like Theo said, he needs to think about it for a while, then present the options to the advisors as if they were his own."
"Everything's black and white for you."
Dane poured more wine and handed a cup to me and another to Theodore. "I sense an insult coming, but go on."
"You see people as either good or bad, but I think people can be both. Indeed, I think everyone has capacity for both good and bad, right and wrong."
"I agree," I said. "Take Ivor and Ned, for example, and the Swinsons. They're essentially good people who've been driven to make trouble. Fear is powerful. It can change people."
Dane shook his head. "If they're essentially good, they'll stop themselves from going too far. So time will tell if that's the case or not."
"I know my friends, Captain."
"She does," Theodore cut in before Dane could respond again. "She also knows more about human character than we do. What do we know about our own characters, let alone those of others we've never met?" It was so similar to what Brant had said in the garrison that I wondered if Theo had been listening in.
"I'm willing to concede I might be wrong," Dane said, lifting his cup in salute.
"Gracious of you," Balthazar said. Theodore, ever the peacemaker, seemed pleased with Dane's concession, however.
"Josie, how did your meeting with Lord Barborough go?" Balthazar asked.
Before I could answer, Dane cut in, "You should have waited for me. I wanted to be nearby if you needed me."
"Barborough is not a danger," I told him. "At least not a physical one. He is certainly dangerous in other ways—if he talks to the king about our discussions."
"If he does, the king will believe the three of us over him. You won't have to worry about that."
Theodore nodded. Balthazar merely looked annoyed at the interruption. "The meeting, Josie. What did he say?"
"I fed him the false information we made up, but it wasn't enough to satisfy him," I said. "He wanted more. He did, however, give me a piece of information about the sorcerer in exchange."
They all leaned forward.
"The sorcerer gives three wishes to the one who frees him. Before you ask, he did not tell me what the sorcerer is freed from. Whatever it is, must be difficult to find. There's been no evidence of magic performed anywhere on The Fist or Zemaya in a thousand years."
"Until now," Dane said to the ceiling where, one level above, the king was resting.
The other two men did not attempt to defend the king. It would seem they were all in agreement and suspected the king was involved in the palace's creation.
Theodore wagged his finger. "It may not have been difficult to find the sorcerer's prison. It could be quite ordinary so no one realized it contained a sorcerer, like a simple cottage."
"Blending in is a good way to disguise oneself," Dane agreed.
"Or the door could have a complicated lock," Theodore added.
Balthazar grunted. "Not if Leon could open it."
Theodore hushed him with a finger to his lips and a glance at the door.
"He could have stumbled upon the key," Dane said.
"Do you think the gemstone is the housing for the sorcerer?" Balthazar asked. "The so-called prison?"
The breath left my body in a rush. I hadn't thought of that, and by the stunned look on Theodore's face, he hadn't either. Either Dane was better at schooling his features or he had considered it already.
"If it is, all the more reason to keep it from the king," he said. "We have to assume he hasn't used all his wishes yet. He could be biding his time until the need arises."
Balthazar's theory about the gem made sense. The king had reacted with irrational anger when the cabinet containing it was touched. "If the sorcerer is inside the gemstone, wouldn't the king want to keep it close?" I asked.
"He asked for the cabinet to be put somewhere safe," Dane said. "He knows I could hide it better than him, with his every step scrutinized by the visiting nobles."
"Where is it?" Balthazar asked. "Are you going to tell us?"
Dane shifted his weight from foot to foot then finally nodded. "In the cottage at the north western corner of the estate. The cottage is empty and is too far away from the palace for the nobles to bother going there. I buried it in the garden."
"Good. Keep it there until he asks for it."
"Thank you," Theodore said with a flat smile for Dane. "We'll keep the knowledge of its whereabouts safe."
"That was never my concern," Dane said. "It was your safety I was trying to protect, not the cabinet itself."
"What will you do if the king asks for it back?" I said. "What if he wants to see the gemstone?"
Balthazar's wrinkles folded into a smug smile. "Hopefully, by then, the jeweler in Tilting I commissioned to make a replica will have completed his task. He's due to bring it soon."
I couldn't help my own smug smile from spreading. "Very clever."
"I'm sure I don't need to impress upon you how important it is to keep this information private, Josie," Balthazar said.
"You know you don't," Dane said.
"Bal," Theodore chided. "She's one of us, in a way. She won't tattle."
"I won't," I promised. "But I do think you need to tell the servants something. Brant can't keep his mouth shut. He and several others are angry that you're not sharing information about the cabinet with them. You have dissenters in the village, but I don't think you want them in the palace too."
"I disagree," Balthazar bit
off, as if it were my fault that Brant couldn't keep his mouth shut. "We don't have proper answers yet, and talk of magic will only cause fear and panic among the staff."
Dane shook his head. "Josie's right. Let me address a few of my men."
Balthazar threw his hands in the air. "Then you'll be responsible for them and their actions, Hammer, not me."
"You underestimate them, Bal," Theodore said. "They're smart enough to know when to keep quiet."
I rather thought Balthazar was underestimating Dane. He was smart enough to know how much of the truth to feed Brant and which lies to weave through it.
Chapter 14
Dane decided it was best if he talk to his men without Theodore and Balthazar present. Balthazar didn't like it, but Dane convinced him an informal meeting would invite less confrontation.
He was wrong. Sergeant Brant was determined to stoke the embers beneath the simmering pot.
"Where is it?" he asked when Dane said he'd removed the cabinet to a safe place.
Dane stood at the end of the long table in the garrison, his arms crossed, while his guards all sat. I stood by the door, trying to look inconspicuous. "Buried in the north west of the estate," Dane said.
The quick response momentarily rendered Brant speechless, though not for long enough. "You're lying," he said.
"No."
The guards muttered among themselves, and Brant said, "Why not keep it in the garrison where there's always someone to watch over it?"
"Because there are too many people coming and going, and not just guards."
Brant's gaze slid to me. "That can be easily stopped."
I wished I'd left Dane to meet with his men alone, but he'd insisted I be there to prove I was one of them, that they could trust me. I wasn't so sure if we were accurately conveying that message.
"What's in the cabinet?" one of the other guards asked.
"It contains a gemstone that pulses when touched," Dane said.
I tried very hard not to show surprise that he told the truth about the gem. I hadn't expected him to be this honest.
"Or goes near it," Brant corrected him. "I only touched the cabinet, but I felt the thing inside throb, like it were alive."