Dream of Darkness and Dominion

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Dream of Darkness and Dominion Page 21

by Hilary Thompson

Resh was the only one who roved, wandering among the guests and greeting them like old friends. She imagined he was also catching plenty of snippets of conversation.

  A servant in a burgundy tunic passed flavored water and milky tea, and another set out trays of delicate sandwiches and fruit carved into fantastical flower shapes.

  “When will we begin?” Noshaya asked, eyeing the tray in front of her before finally shaking her head at the food. She sipped instead from a tall glass of water flavored with lemondrine.

  Coren blinked at her and continued to wait. Once the servants had made the rounds, she waved them away and began. “Thank you all for spending your afternoon with me,” she said, raising her voice over the clink of cups and a few lingering whispers. “I’ll get right to the point. We’ve gotten information concerning the Brujok from one of the captured witches. They plan to continue the assault on their southern sisters, but also to push back into Riata. There will likely be an attack on StarsHelm very soon.”

  She paused to let the three Lords and single Lady absorb this. None of them looked surprised, though, so perhaps news had traveled faster than she expected.

  She continued, “We need plans to train the Riatan armies in tactics for fighting Sulit magic, and we need a plan to protect the city, of course. But I’d also like to form a group that will sail to Rurok as soon as possible. If we hit them there quickly, we could help prevent much of their civil war.”

  “And why do we care about a civil war?” the Lady sniffed, brushing her golden hair over her shoulder. “Witches are not our concern.”

  Dain stepped forward. “Lady Alain, they certainly are now. A civil war in Sulit could only result in the Brujok conquering and enlisting the southern witches. With that many, they could easily push into Riata. They are a threat.”

  “Witches do not organize well. Surely, they’ll be easy to stop,” said the Lord who must be her husband.

  “Hush, Jazen, that’s ridiculous,” Lady Alain said, glaring at him.

  “No, I thought that once as well,” Coren said. “But the Brujok are another sort of witch altogether. And we can’t discount that a core group of them were trained by Mara herself.”

  This brought murmurs of agreement, and Coren felt a bit of relief work its way across her shoulders.

  “I’m happy to help with the armies,” Sy offered, looking in turn at each of the Generals. “Resh and I had extensive training against witches to become Weshen paladins. We know how to combat many of their traditional spells, and we can work quickly through the troops.”

  Harben and Dain nodded. Cusslen glared and shook his head, muttering, and Noshaya raised an eyebrow. “Just how quickly can you train thousands of troops?” she asked. “Aren’t you used to working with much smaller numbers?”

  Coren snapped her eyes to the brazen woman, but Sy wasn’t flustered. He said, “I assure you, General Noshaya, our methods are perfectly scalable. And may I point out, we may not have had the numbers, but we’ve always had the upper hand in experience.”

  One corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk, but she nodded. It appeared Sy had made his point, and Noshaya had gained a bit of respect for the Weshen General.

  “We will train your Commanders first,” Resh explained, looking to the court. “Then they can spread the strategies to their troops. I’m sure there are also a few Riatans who possess a bit of spellcasting.”

  “What are you saying?” Cusslen asked, his voice barely more civil than a growl. “Our citizens are not permitted to do magic beyond alchemy.”

  Jyesh barked out a rude laugh, startling Lady Alain into spilling her water.

  “Obviously, that law is no longer relevant since their Queen does the same,” Coren said, keeping a tight rein on her temper. Someone in the group snickered. “Once the citizens know they won’t be punished for their knowledge, you’ll likely form some allies in the city.”

  “Offer them coin and a written contract of protection, and you’ll have more magic-users than you’ll need,” Resh predicted.

  Jyesh cleared his throat delicately. “I am certainly willing to share my extensive knowledge of Sulit spells. I am, after all, here to serve my country.”

  Coren choked on the bit of lemondrine water she’d been drinking, but someone handed her a napkin, and she recovered quickly. Jyesh shot her a nasty scowl. “Thank you, brother,” she managed. “Can we come to a consensus on this, then? Are you all in agreement to change training for the soldiers?”

  Lord Jazen and Lady Alain began muttering to each other about costs, but nobody spoke up in disagreement. Coren took another breath. “And are you in agreement to allow Sy, Resh, and Jyesh to head this training?”

  “How do we know there will be no Weshen duplicity?” Cusslen asked, glaring at the four of them in turn.

  “General Cusslen, I assure you we don’t want Riata to fall to Sulit,” Coren said, holding back a sigh. “You’re certainly welcome - all of you - to watch any of the training. My friends only want to help your people. My people,” she corrected.

  Cusslen gumbled something under his breath. Coren saw Resh clench his fingers into fists at the man’s blatant disrespect, but she caught Resh’s eye and shook her head. Cusslen was rude, but she knew it was natural for him to distrust her in a situation like this. She was watching him, but she didn’t want to create division among her Generals just before they entered into a war.

  “What more can we do besides training?” Harben said, breaking the tension. “Should we be using different weapons, for example?”

  Coren glanced to Sy and Resh, then Gernant. “Do you have any ideas? Would talismans help?”

  “We have some weapons enhanced with talismans,” Gernant said. “Graeme kept them for...special missions.”

  Coren was surprised at the man’s sudden show of helpfulness, until she heard a growl from Sy and suddenly understood.

  “You used these weapons in Weshen,” she said. It wasn’t a question, and Gernant didn’t answer it.

  “We did,” Noshaya affirmed instead. “On the King’s orders, Cusslen and I each sent troops to your people’s city. Graeme ordered talisman-enhanced weapons for all of our Commanders and a few of the elite soldiers. He also outfitted the shifters with trinkets to enhance their power.”

  Coren felt ill. She’d seen Mara use young shifters for battle, and she’d guessed it wasn’t the first time. But to hear it from the Generals who had led the charge was a different matter entirely.

  The room was silent for a long moment, everyone looking everywhere but at the Weshen in the room.

  Jyesh stood, drawing attention to himself. He glared at Cusslen and Gernant, turning to spread the look around the room. “We all know what you’ve done to Weshen and dozens of countries like it, and some of you did things you hated under orders from your King or Queen. You voted to put us on your thrones. Yet you have the gall to mistrust us? My sister and I could peel the skin from your bones with a mere thought.”

  He huffed and shook his head. Coren thought he might stalk from the room, but he only grabbed another glass and sat.

  She breathed in deeply, trying to process what Jyesh had said and why. “Your elected First Son has spoken well. Please consider this conversation next time you question our loyalty to this country. I need nothing from you. I need nothing from your country. And yet I stay to help you. I put my friends and myself in danger to help you. Now, let’s make a plan that will protect as many innocent lives as possible. Clear?”

  The silence returned as she looked each of the leaders in the room in the eye. Slowly, they all began to nod. Coren felt a hand grasp her shoulder from behind, and she glanced up to see Resh, his eyes glinting with approval.

  “I’m happy to have the training,” Harben began, taking another sandwich from the tray. “But I’m absolutely not comfortable taking troops into Sulit. We were lucky the battle by the docks wasn’t a massacre, and I’m not convinced the potential for such heavy loss is justified.”

  Cusslen nodded. “
Fortify the palace. Close down the docks, yes. But why should we go looking for trouble in a dark country? We’d do better holding our ground here.”

  “It’s more about being proactive,” Coren reasoned. “Spoiling their fight before the Brujok have a chance to convert the whole country.” She wasn’t going to give up on this.

  “How about a compromise?” Sy suggested. “We have four separate armies. Two can stay here to fortify and protect. Two can travel to Sulit, perhaps one to Rurok and one further south.”

  The room was quiet for a few moments as all considered the idea. It was essentially what Coren had suggested, but with the numbers and Sy’s own training speaking silently.

  Noshaya nodded. “It’s possible,” she said. “An elite unit could infiltrate southern Sulit easier than an army, though.”

  “My elites would jump at the chance,” Dain said, entering the discussion. Coren knew he’d decided to hold back, not wanting to seem too influenced by her.

  “My army is better equipped to stay here. We have solid defense training,” Cusslen said, his mood improving now that he had the chance to negotiate a good spot for his soldiers.

  Coren nodded, but she was wondering what he might do when she was gone. She’d need someone she trusted to stay here while she traveled. She was going to Sulit, no matter who came with her. Mara was pushing south, ever closer to Penna and Kosh.

  “I’d love a chance to trounce the Brujok,” Noshaya said. “So, is it decided, then? Cusslen and Harben stay here to defend the palace and city. Watersend and I head to Sulit?”

  “Agreed,” Harben said. Several affirmatives followed, and excitement began to build in Coren’s gut. They were really going to do this.

  She glanced to Jyesh, who had remained quiet since his outburst. “Will you come to Rurok?” she asked. She’d rather have him with her than here with men like Cusslen and Gernant.

  He shrugged. “I could be of use in Ruruok.”

  “We begin today, then,” Coren said. “You’re welcome to go now or to stay and finish tea, but please remember - the witches will not wait on us. We must be ready.”

  Harben set aside his plate and stood. He bowed to her and left the room, followed by Cusslen. Lord Jazen and Lady Alain were still bickering about something, but they paused long enough to thank Coren.

  “Come along, Lord Elgar,” Noshaya said, nudging the quiet man near her. Coren startled when she realized the older man had fallen asleep at some point. She glanced to Resh, who was biting his lip in an effort not to laugh.

  Dain pulled Sy aside, and they began to go over plans on how to start training the Commanders.

  Coren sighed as she watched Gernant taking his time with the remainder of his food. Resh sidled near and took a seat next to the man. “Lord Gernant, I understand you to be the country’s expert on talismans.”

  “Indeed. I’ve purchased many of the Weshen products over the years. Even some true ones.” He smirked, biting into a large berry.

  “Did you know your Queen here possesses a true talisman? I have yet to identify the source of its power, but it’s clearly been bound with dark magic.”

  Coren cut her eyes to Resh. What game was he playing? Was it wise to share this information with someone like Gernant? But Gernant had already set down his plate, his attention now fully on the pair before him. “And what does the talisman look like?”

  “It’s a whip,” Coren supplied. She had it wound under her dress this very moment, but she certainly wasn’t planning to show that much leg to Lord Gernant. “My mother passed it to me, and I suppose she got it from her grandmother. Lorental,” she clarified, though surely he was well aware of her family line.

  “Of course. Lorental had many weapons woven with alchemy. I have no record of a whip, though.”

  “Do you keep records of all the weapons made with alchemy?” Resh asked.

  “Of course,” Gernant repeated. “I keep records of everything that affects my work.” His smile spoke of just the sort of work that made Coren want to slit him from top to bottom. She knew what had been done to many of the Wesh, and sitting before her was the man responsible for much of it.

  His smirk made her wonder why exactly she hadn’t split him open yet, but again, Resh’s light touch grounded her. One day, she promised herself. One day, Gernant would go too far, and she would have her opportunity.

  Until then, she needed his skills for other matters.

  “I’d very much enjoy seeing some of your records and research,” Resh said to Gernant. “I have a bit of an interest in alchemy myself, being one of the few Weshen men alive without magic of my own.”

  Coren had guessed this was coming, though she didn’t like it. Alchemy had always been used to control her people, but Resh hated not having magic. It was only logical he would look to supplement his lack of shifting with enhanced weapons.

  “I would be happy to share a bit of my work with someone who might, in turn, offer first-hand knowledge of the creatures the weapons are built from. I have quite a collection of MagiCreature artifacts, you know,” Gernant said, the pride evident in his voice.

  The Vespa in Coren’s mind ruffled its feathers in distaste.

  Gernant glanced at her. “But how do you know this whip is bound with dark magic?”

  “It’s a guess,” she admitted. “But my mother warned me not to wet it with human blood. The first time I did, I lost control.” She slid her eyes to Resh in admission of something he’d asked her once. She’d killed a Weshen guard with her whip - a nasty man, for sure - but not in true self-defense.

  “Perhaps you just have a weakness for violence,” Gernant suggested.

  Coren scowled at him. “It also glows hotter when wet with blood, even from simple creatures like groundbirds.”

  She could tell the man was interested, but he wasn’t going to say anything further. Instead, he stood, brushing crumbs from his dark robes. “If you decide you’re serious about learning a bit of alchemy, I’d be happy to trade information,” he said, nodding to Resh. “But now I must excuse myself. So many things to prepare if we’re going to make more weapons.”

  Coren stood and stretched as Gernant exited. She noted how Resh watched the Lord leave, his eyes hooded and distant. What was her sly one planning?

  RESH SAW THE QUESTION in her eyes, and he knew she’d noticed his interest. Would she guess his intentions?

  Her expression slanted to guilt before he had a chance to manage the moment, and he grew instantly wary. What could she have to feel guilty for? Coren opened her mouth, then closed it and twisted her fingers.

  “What is it?” Resh asked, working to keep his tone gentle despite an odd sinking feeling in his stomach. He looked to the door as Dain and Sy exited, and he held up a hand to Sy. He would catch up.

  “I don’t want you to come to Sulit with the armies,” Coren rushed out. Her eyes dropped to the floor, and Resh was grateful for that because he knew his face had hardened to anger at those words.

  Carefully, he smoothed his glare away and reached for her hands, clasping them in his own to stop their restless movement.

  “Coren, I’m a Weshen Paladin. I have more training than most of those soldiers. More training with witches even than Dain.”

  “But you don’t have magic,” she whispered, and this time she did raise her eyes in time to catch the fury in his. She startled, jerking her hands from his. “I-I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t matter.” She stood and dodged a few guards to reach one of the windows overlooking the gardens below. Resh followed her, grateful the guards stood back.

  “Don’t be sorry for something you can’t control,” he said, knowing his words sounded strained. “But magic or no, Coren, I can handle myself in Rurok. Your armies may very well need an experienced Weshen, especially if something happens to one of the Generals.”

  “None of us did well last time,” she said. “All of us were captured, easily. Mara was playing games with us then. I can’t...”

  Resh waited for her
to finish, but she clamped her lips shut. “You can’t what?” he prompted.

  She shook her head, rising quickly and stalking to the window.

  “You can’t what?” he demanded, knowing if he pushed this, he’d lose something. But his lifetime of being second everything was catching up to him like a tidal wave, sucking him under with its force, so all he could do was batter against the feeling of drowning.

  “I can’t lead when I’m worried about saving you,” she burst out, her fist thumping against the window glass. A second later, her forehead hit it, too, with a muffled thud. Her shoulders hunched into themselves, but Resh had lost his ability to be reasonable with her. He was no longer worried about hurting her feelings, or whatever was between them. This mattered to him.

  “Is that really all you think of me?” He crowded her, forcing her to face him. Her body was rigid and her eyes blank, washed carefully clean of the emotion he’d heard in her words.

  Resh cursed at her blankness, her shutting down. He turned away, wishing there weren’t so many guards here to witness their argument.

  He paced the room, his anger building, every tiny annoyance magnified by her refusal to speak. “You keep yourself too far above everyone, Coren. High in the sky, safe in your cloudy Vespa thoughts. Above Riata, above your friends, above me. Magi only knows why you’ve stayed with me. You’ve told me straight you don’t believe in love. I make your body sing, but you push me away every time it goes beyond a kiss. By all that’s doubled, Coren, I’m starting to believe I’m nothing more than a convenient dalliance.”

  He barked out a laugh, thinking of the irony his life had turned into. He’d spent so many summers being in exactly her position, thinking of the island girls as fun in the moment, but ultimately a grand inconvenience. The girls had chased him for his position as General’s Son. Was he just chasing Coren because of her status as Queen?

  Until this moment, he would have denied it with every word. But her silence continued to push at him, needling his pride.

  He stopped pacing to stare her down. Still, she was silent and blank-faced, her face pale and her shoulders slumped.

 

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