I grabbed Cederic’s arm. “Could we discuss this in private?” I said in a low voice, though I’m not sure why because Crossar was sitting right there and could hear me clearly.
Cederic glanced at Mattiak. “General Tarallan, would you escort Caelan Crossar to a place where he can clean himself up, and send someone to find him a change of clothing?” he said. Mattiak nodded, and he stood, followed shortly by Crossar, who made it look as if he were doing us a favor. As if he were the one in control. Much as I love and respect Cederic, I was afraid for him.
So once Crossar and Mattiak were gone, taking the soldiers with them, and I judged they were far enough away to be out of earshot, I said, still in a low voice because I’m paranoid, “Cederic, we can’t do that. We can’t give him Venetry.”
“I was unaware you were so attached to the city,” he said.
“Don’t make jokes,” I said. “Is he right about the way we’ll redistrict the country? Because he has a good point. We can’t have a million different people reporting to us all the time.”
“He is right,” Cederic said, “and whatever else his flaws may be, stupidity is not one of them. I have already considered the question of what to do with the largest city in our new country. Making it the center of, perhaps, one of four or five ‘kingdoms’ is sensible given both its size and its geographic location.”
“Which makes whoever rules it incredibly powerful,” I said. “Crossar’s dangerous, Cederic. He’s smart and he’s power-hungry. If we give him this, he’ll find a way to use it against us. We’ll end up fighting another war, probably when we’re too busy bringing this country together to have any defense against it.”
“You are correct that Caelan Crossar desires power,” Cederic said, “but I find it interesting that he has never moved against Garran Clendessar. As Chamber Lord of Defense, he has, or had, control of the Balaenic Army; he is General Tarallan’s friend, as far as a man like him has friends; and he is far more intelligent than Balaen’s King. He might have made himself King twenty years ago. I think if he were interested in moving against whoever wins this war, he would not have asked us for the direct power he would receive by ruling Venetry’s new district.”
“Unless he’s trying to trick us into lowering our guard,” I said. “I don’t trust him.”
“Neither do I,” Cederic said, “at least not in the way I trust, for example, Granea Amelessar. But I do trust him to act in his own best interests, and so long as I know what those interests are, I can predict how he will behave toward us.”
“What if whatever it is he knows is worthless?” I said. “Suppose you promise him all that and he’s lying?”
“Then he will receive nothing,” Cederic said. “I would never make a promise like this without stipulating his information must deliver on what he claims. He is the one taking a risk, Sesskia, because he cannot know whether I am honorable enough to fulfil my promise. I might easily take his information and then have him killed, as far as he knows anything of me.”
I sighed, and said, “I don’t like this.”
“To be honest, neither do I,” Cederic said, “but—” He drew me closer and lowered his voice. “I have no plan for swaying Arron Domenessar to our side,” he said. “He is stubborn and greedy and there is no benefit to him in joining us. We will return to Barrekel and take the Black and Brown Armies by force, if we cannot convince their leaders our cause is just. General Tarallan feels certain he can sway at least one of them, but no matter what happens, unless we are very lucky, we will come to blows with the Barrekellian forces. If Caelan Crossar has information that will bring Domenessar to our side…”
“I think he might be overly ambitious,” I said, “because I can’t imagine Domenessar bowing to anyone. He barely gave respect to the King, and then only because he had to.”
“We have to take this chance, Sesskia,” he said.
At that point the tent flap opened, and Crossar and Mattiak came back in, followed by Crossar’s guard. Crossar looked better, though his beard was still shaggy and his clothes didn’t fit quite right. He immediately went to his chair and sat without waiting for an invitation. “Have you made a decision?” he said.
Cederic and I both sat, me slowly as if daring Crossar to take offense at my rudeness. He ignored me in favor of watching Cederic, which annoyed me enough I almost wanted to tell Cederic to send him packing. Cederic, as calm as ever, said, “If your information proves as useful as you claim, you will be given what you ask. But I will not consider myself bound by that promise unless it brings Arron Domenessar to my banner.”
“It will,” Crossar said.
Cederic spread his hands in invitation for Crossar to speak. Crossar nodded, slowly. Then he looked at me. “I know your family name,” he said.
It felt like a blow to the chest. I’d been expecting…actually, I hadn’t been expecting anything, because I thought he was lying about having anything we could use. “But we lost our surname,” I said. “Just knowing it isn’t going to restore my family’s status, if Dad was stripped of power.”
“Your father did not legally lose his surname,” Crossar said. “He was forced to leave it behind, and may have chosen not to use it, but you are still entitled to it.”
“How is that supposed to matter?” I said. “Domenessar might respect me more if I’m noble, because he’s a snob, but he doesn’t defer to any of the other nobles and he certainly won’t defer to me, knowing my past.”
“It matters,” Crossar said, “because your father was Alenik Daressar.”
I think he was going for an awed or shocked reaction. What he got was Cederic’s polite incomprehension and me saying, “Am I supposed to be impressed by that?”
“Sesskia,” Mattiak said. I turned to look at him because he sounded choked. “Sesskia, Alenik Daressar nearly took the throne of Balaen twenty-six years ago.”
“He did not,” I said. Then I felt stupid. It was just—It’s still the only reaction I can summon up. My Dad, who never did anything in his life but go out on that boat and bring home his catch to keep us from starving—I knew he had a life before that, but not
He never acted like someone who might have ruled a kingdom. I mean, he never did anything to stand out, was always humble to that fat bastard he worked for before he could afford his own boat. I guess, based on what Crossar
I’m not thinking about that, because it makes me want to set Crossar on fire, anything to make him suffer, and there’s still a rational part of me that knows that’s wrong. So I’m just going to go on and tell this the way it happened, and save my anger for the right place.
So—right. I said, stupidly, “He did not.”
Mattiak said, “It was just as Garran Clendessar was coming to power. Everyone knew he was the weakest of the Clendessar family, and there was a lot of unrest. And Daressar saw an opportunity. He had a lot of quiet support among the families in Venetry. I guess—I was young then, but Venetry was in turmoil and we all knew there was conflict centered on the throne. And then Daressar’s support collapsed, no one knew why, he and his family disappeared, and the King acted as if his rule had never been challenged. He went out of his way to make sure anyone who even talked about Daressar suffered. So people just…stopped talking about him. But no one’s ever forgotten the man who nearly ruled Balaen. In the last, I’m not sure, maybe five years, his name has started coming up again as Garran Clendessar’s rule became harsher and more erratic.”
“That’s insane,” I said. “I’ve never heard anything like that.”
“You wouldn’t have,” Crossar said. “Only those at the highest levels of government even whisper about it. The missing Alenik Daressar and his family. Everyone believes the King had them killed, but a lot of the Lords Governor would love to be proven wrong on that.”
I was still gaping at him. “Cederic,” I said, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted from him. Reassurance? For him to punch Crossar for making up this story?
“I think he is telling th
e truth,” Cederic said. “He stands to lose too much if his story is disproven.”
“I think he ought to have some proof other than just his say-so,” I said. “Do I have some kind of distinctive birthmark? Not that I’d be thrilled if you knew about it, if I did.”
“I can name five men and one woman, all Lords Governor past or present, who were witness at your sanctification before the true God when you were five days old,” Crossar said. “They know that Alenik’s second daughter was born with those green-gray eyes. You were given the name Sesskia on that day. And you are the very image of Cessily Daressar, your mother. She was the premier hostess in Venetry and there is a painting of her in Iyannka Manor; it was spared Clendessar’s purge because your grandmother hid it.”
I was shaking, because an awful feeling had started to come over me. “You’re not my grandfather,” I said.
He shook his head. “No. Your grandparents passed away years ago. You—and presumably your sister and your mother—are all that’s left of the Daressars.”
“And yet you know all of this,” I said. “Tell me why.”
“You already know,” he said.
I leaped out of my chair and flung myself at him, knocking him over and landing hard on his chest, and got my hands around his throat. “You betrayed him!” I screamed, shaking him hard as he clawed at my hands. “You’re the reason his plan failed! You’re why we had to hide—why we lived in poverty—damn you, it’s your fault he died!”
Cederic took me by the arms and pulled me off Crossar. I fought him, but his grip was too strong, and eventually I let him lead me back to my seat. Mattiak helped Crossar up, but the former Chamber Lord remained standing. “I did betray him,” he said, hoarsely. “I wanted to rule Balaen behind the scenes. Alenik Daressar would never have allowed me to manipulate him, and I saw in Clendessar an opportunity to control the Chamber. So I sent word of his attempted coup to those who could stop it. Then I helped him escape Venetry, and buried his trail so no one would find him or his family. I saved your life.”
“You expect me to be grateful?” I shouted, trying to leap out of my chair again and being once again restrained by Cederic. “Dad died in a fishing accident—he would never have been there if not for you. Mam drank herself to death because she couldn’t stand the loss of our wealth and status. Bridie—” I choked. “She’d have lived if we could have afforded real doctors. What you did nearly destroyed my family. How dare you stand there and suggest you did anything for us?”
“That coup might have killed you anyway,” Crossar said. “If Daressar had attacked and failed, Clendessar’s men wouldn’t have been merciful just because you were barely able to talk. And suppose he’d succeeded, and become King? By your account, yours was the magic that brought our worlds together safely. If you had been nothing but a princess, our worlds would be destroyed now. I don’t expect you to love me for what I did, and I don’t regret my actions. But, your Majesty, your life would look very different now if your father had succeeded…and you can’t guarantee it would have been better.”
I stopped fighting Cederic long enough for him to relax his grip. Then, once his attention was on Crossar again, I stood up and ran out of the tent. I came straight back here to write this all down, hoping it would calm me. It did, a little, but now I feel adrift, out to sea without rudder or sail and having no land to set my sights on.
Crossar’s telling the truth, I’m certain of that. My being a Daressar suits his agenda or he’d have gone on never telling anyone who I was. But it doesn’t change anything about my life. Though it makes sense why Dad was always so quiet and easy-going; he couldn’t afford to give anyone a hint that he’d been something other than a fisherman once. And Mam…I still blame her for a lot of things, for her weaknesses and her inability to support us, but I feel sorry for her now, too, because she couldn’t possibly have been ready for the kind of life Crossar’s treachery threw us into.
The thing is, I may have the name, but there’s nothing noble about my upbringing. Everything I’ve learned about being a leader, what little there is, came from working with the mages and watching Cederic. I doubt Domenessar is going to drop to his knees no matter who my father was. He’ll believe I’m not qualified to sit on the throne, and he’ll still go to war against us. So I’ve learned all of this, and Crossar will get nothing, because Domenessar won’t become our ally. Good. I hope he gets nothing. I hope he has to bury himself in a tiny town where he’ll have to scrounge a living like we did. That would be justice. Not that there’s really anything in the world I’d accept as balancing the kind of life I had to live because of him.
I’m trying to decide if I should go back to the command tent. On the one hand, I think if I see Crossar again, I might attack him, this time with fire. On the other hand, I’m the Empress-Consort and it’s my responsibility to know our plans with regard to ruling the Empire. I’m going to sit here and think about it for a while, then make a decision. I’m glad Cederic didn’t come after me. He always seems to know when I need to be alone.
Chapter Sixteen
26 Teretar
I decided to go back. The part of me that’s Empress-Consort realized I can’t afford to indulge in self-pity. I also wanted to hear Crossar’s plan. Not that I trust him, but I was certain he wouldn’t have come here and made that offer unless he was certain he could deliver on it. And I was also concerned that Mattiak and Cederic aren’t sufficiently cautious, and Crossar is still a wily bastard who will get away with as much as he possibly can unless someone gets in his way. I’m pretty sure that someone has to be me. (I’m so glad he’s not my grandfather. For the tiniest moment I entertained the possibility before realizing it was just too tidy for real life. Besides, he doesn’t resemble any of my family, not even a little bit, and though I realize families don’t have to look like each other, ours really does.)
(I can’t believe Crossar thinks I look like Mam. We do have the same round face, and the same thick blond hair, but she was so thin and worn down…maybe it’s just that I don’t want to have anything in common with her. It’s why I almost never drink. I wish I could see the painting of her in that manor, whatever he called it, see her before time and liquor ground her down.)
Anyway.
I went back to the tent and they were all still there, Cederic, Mattiak and Crossar. I sat down and glared at him, but said nothing. Mostly I knew they’d been talking while I was gone and I didn’t want to say anything that would make them have a discussion, or an argument, all over again. Cederic said, “We have a plan for bringing Domenessar to our side, Sesskia.”
“What is it?” I said. I thought I sounded polite, but all of them, Cederic included, were looking at me warily, as if they expected me to throttle Crossar again or something. Which I admit was a reasonable fear.
“Domenessar must be convinced trying to claim the throne won’t give him the power he wants,” Crossar said. He didn’t look at all uncomfortable or guilty, which roused my anger again, but I kept quiet because I do have self-control. “He’s already facing a battle he’ll likely lose, and will suffer heavy casualties even if he doesn’t. You will explain to him who you are and that the other Lords Governor will see in you someone to rally behind. Domenessar knows the others are afraid of what might happen if he became King, and he is rapidly running out of time to consolidate his power. Then offer him an alternative, something that gives him a measure of power, and he’ll see the logic behind following the…Emperor.”
“What do you mean, I will explain?” I said. “You’re the one who will have to vouch for my identity, and Cederic’s the public speaker.”
“It must be you, Sesskia, because you must show him you are a strong leader whom others will follow,” Cederic said. “He knows the other Lords Governor must be convinced you can hold the throne, because if they think you are merely a token presence in the Imperium, they will refuse to follow your Castaviran husband.”
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I said.
“I also cracked a whip of fire over their heads and made them cower in terror,” I said. “I can’t do that to Domenessar. Much as I’d like to.”
“It may still be a possibility, if Domenessar refuses to be reasonable,” Cederic said. “Though it should be the last possibility we resort to.”
“If you offer him the right incentive, he’ll be reasonable,” Crossar said.
“And I take it you know what that incentive should be,” Cederic said coolly.
“Give him the governance of the region,” Crossar said.
“Not a chance,” I responded promptly.
“We cannot remove him from office entirely, and he will not be satisfied simply with what he holds now,” Cederic said.
“I know that,” I said, “but if you make him a viceroy, or a district governor, or whatever we end up calling it, that’s way too much power. He’ll wait until you’re preoccupied and then make a play for the Imperial throne. If having him—” I jabbed my thumb in Crossar’s direction—“as viceroy is bad, giving Domenessar that rank is ten times worse.”
“We may have to take that risk,” Cederic said.
“What risk are you willing to take to win this war?” Crossar said to me.
“Shut up,” I said. “Cederic, this is dangerous.”
“So is fighting the Castaviran Army at a three to one disadvantage,” Cederic said. “We will simply have to arrange things to prevent Domenessar from exercising too much power.”
“Or teach him to use that power on this country’s behalf,” Crossar said.
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