Midwinter 02: The Office of Shadow

by Matthew Sturges

  "I was wondering when I'd finally hear you say that," says the solicitor, smiling.

  Silverdun explains his plan, and the solicitor listens patiently, asking questions, making suggestions. When Silverdun returns home, he feels alive for the first time in as long as he can remember. It is time. Time to become a man. He goes to bed thinking about his childhood, about the day when he showed his mother how far he could walk around the wall. He feels as if something important has been given back to him.

  The next morning, Silverdun awakes to find a quartet of burly Royal Guardsmen standing in his bedroom.

  "Perrin Alt, Lord Silverdun," says one, reading from an official document, "you are hereby detained for the crime of treason."

  "Excuse me?" says Silverdun. "I'm fairly certain I've never done that one."

  Silverdun's next meeting with his solicitor is far less friendly, and takes place in jail.

  "I can't believe you'd betray me like this," says Silverdun. "You worked for my father." He eyes the solicitor across the small table with genuine fury. He can't remember the last time he felt something so white-hot.

  "I did work for your father," says the solicitor. "But I work for your uncle now." As if this justifies his betrayal.

  "How can I possibly be charged with treason?" says Silverdun. "Isn't that a bit excessive?"

  "You signed documents in my office yesterday signaling your intent to take an estate from its rightful owner and provide it to an organization that does not respect Seelie sovereignty. That is a traitorous act."

  "I am its rightful owner!"

  "That's not relevant, legally speaking."

  Silverdun fumes. "And what makes you think you're going to get a judge who'll play along with this `organization that does not respect Seelie sovereignty' nonsense? Times have changed."

  "Perhaps," says the solicitor. "But not all judges have changed along with them. And it so happens that the court official who does judicial assignments is a very good friend of your uncle's."

  Silverdun is offered a choice. He can stand trial, and almost certainly be hanged, or he can plead guilty and spend the rest of his life in prison.

  Silverdun is sitting in his holding cell pondering these options when he receives a note from his mother.

  Perrin,

  I would have come in person, but I am now too weak to travel, so this letter must suffice. I've received word f rom your uncle apprising me of your situation and asking me to implore you not to take your case to trial. I will so implore you, but not fir him. Braun wants to avoid the spectacle and would much prefer that you disappear quietly. I, however; simply want you to outlive me. Please respect a dying woman's last wish in this regard.

  You will not believe me, but I know that Aba is not finished with you. This is a great detour; but it is not the end of the road. Know that.

  You made a headstrong, stupid decision by choosing to go against your uncle as you've done. And I must say that I have never been more proud of you.

  Perrin, I predict that your life is just beginning.

  Love,

  Mother

  When Silverdun arrives by coach at the prison of Crere Sulace, a testy message sprite is waiting to inform him that his mother has died.

  Silverdun's arrival is the talk of the prison for a few weeks, but his notoriety is short-lived. A few months later, Mauritane, the captain of the Royal Guard, is convicted of treason and sent to Crere Sulace as well.

  For a long time, nothing happens. Then Midwinter descends, and Mother's prediction comes true most spectacularly.

  When Silverdun and Paet stepped into the Shadows' Den the next day, Ironfoot and Sela leapt to their feet.

  "Silverdun!" shouted Sela. She ran to him and embraced him, and he was more than happy to let her.

  "You're alive," said Ironfoot.

  "That's a matter of some philosophical debate," said Silverdun. "I'm here, anyway."

  "What happened?," asked Ironfoot. "How is this possible?"

  "Pray you never find out," said Silverdun. He looked at Paet, who shook his head. "Apparently it's a bit of a trade secret."

  "We can celebrate later," said Paet. "Right now there's work to do."

  "But-," began Sela.

  "Another time," said Paet. "Silverdun's untimely death has stolen away valuable time. So catch us up. Any progress on the Einswrath?"

  Ironfoot's face fell. "Unfortunately, yes." Ironfoot filled them in on his discovery about the plans Timha had brought them.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "I wish I could give you better news."

  "What are you talking about, man?" said Paet. "That's excellent news!"

  "How so?" asked Ironfoot.

  "Because if they don't have the real plans," said Silverdun, "that means they don't have any Einswrath, either."

  Ironfoot's eyes widened. "So we may have a chance after all."

  "We need to tell Everess immediately," said Paet. "If this is true, then we may be able to avoid a war entirely. Mab was clearly counting on having the Einswrath in order to bolster her attack. She may be having second thoughts now."

  "What makes you think that?" asked Silverdun.

  "Remember what Timha told us," said Ironfoot. "Mab's thaumaturges were under heavy pressure to complete the thing. They were on a strict timetable. She committed to a war footing in the hope that it would be finished on time."

  "We hope," said Silverdun.

  "If nothing else," said Paet, "if we let Mab know through diplomatic means that we're aware of this, she may stand down, and we won't have to engage in a war that we can't possibly win."

  "Even without the Einswrath?" said Sela.

  "The last time I spoke to Mauritane," said Silverdun, "he admitted that we're hopelessly outmatched. We now know that Mab's been drafting soldiers from all over the Unseelie Lands, and with the Annwni Army at her disposal, we're outnumbered nearly two to one. The Einswrath was merely the shot of whiskey in the beer."

  "I'm off to talk to Everess," said Paet.

  Paet sat in Everess's office at the Foreign Ministry, with Everess and Baron Glennet, and told them what Ironfoot had discovered.

  "Wonderful news," said Everess.

  "I believe that if we pass this information to Ambassador Jem-Aleth and he spreads it around the City of Mab, then she may think twice about her invasion. We could avert this whole nasty business."

  "Perhaps," said Everess, thinking.

  "No," said Glennet. "Those in Corpus will disagree. They'll argue that the only information we should send to Jem-Aleth is instructions to abandon the embassy and return to the City Emerald. What you've just told us is the best argument I've heard yet to proceed with Corpus's plans."

  "Which plans are these?" asked Paet.

  "Corpus has asked General Mauritane to prepare for a preemptive strike against the Unseelie," said Everess.

  "Where does the queen stand on this?" said Paet.

  "Titania keeps her own counsel," said Glennet. "She has informed Corpus that she will consent to whatever they decide."

  "This is Regina Titania we're talking about, right?" said Paet. "The Stone Queen, the Fist of Cold Iron?"

  "The queen is not as she once was," said Glennet. "It is sad, but true. She's become far less involved in affairs of state since midwinter."

  "But Baron Glennet," said Paet. "General Mauritane has said that-"

  "Mauritane is more concerned about the safety of his troops than the safety of his kingdom," said Glennet. "I'm sorry if that sounds harsh, but we must consider the larger issues here. If we strike now, then there will be no invasion of the Seelie Kingdom. We will take them by surprise."

  "And you agree with this assessment?" asked Pact.

  Glennet shrugged. "My role in this, as always, is to try to reach consensus. There are factions in the House of Lords who feel as you do, but most of the guilds feel otherwise, and they've brought a number of the lords over to their way of thinking. Elvish memory is long, Chief Paet, and Selafae is far from forgo
tten. Some of these members were furious when Mauritane didn't continue north after the Battle of Sylvan and finish Mab off entirely."

  "That would have been suicide," said Paet.

  "I didn't say I agree with them," said Glennet.

  "Well, what's done is done," said Everess. "If we're going to war, then we need to prepare for it. Paet, you'll need to shift your focus onto developing intelligence on Mab's tactics and strategy."

  "I feel deeply uncomfortable with this," said Paet.

  "You feel deeply uncomfortable about everything," said Everess. "Now go and do as you're told."

  Paet stormed into Blackstone House, hurling his cloak at Brei, the receptionist, and glowering at the copyists and analysts on his way downstairs, all of whom knew better than to disturb him in this mood.

  He came downstairs, went into his office, and slammed the door, fuming. Would Everess ever stand up for what was right? Or would he spend his entire career doing only what brought him more influence? And Glennet, so well known as a peacemaker, hadn't done anything that Paet could see to remove the fire from the boiling pot the Seelie government had become.

  And where was the queen in all this?

  There was a knock at the door. "What is it?" he shouted.

  A timid analyst hurried into his office and handed him a slip of paper, a summary of a sprite's message. The analysts all knew better than to provide transcripts from such conversations. Paet's hatred for message sprites was legendary.

  He read the paper once, then again. "Shadows!" he shouted. "Get in here now!"

  Silverdun, Ironfoot, and Sela filtered into the office, as always slower than he preferred.

  "What are you bellowing about now?" said Silverdun.

  "We've just received word from your man Estiane, Silverdun. He received a horrified note from an Arcadian housemaid in Mab's palace."

  "What was in the note?" asked Ironfoot.

  "Hy Pezho is alive. Hy Pezho. The Black Artist. The man who created the Einswrath is alive."

  "But we'd heard from numerous sources that he'd been executed by Mab herself," said Ironfoot.

  "Well, Silverdun died," said Paet. "And there he is."

  "What do we do now?" said Sela.

  "We panic," said Paet. "And I go back to Glennet and Everess. Maybe now they'll reconsider their preemptive strike."

  "What should we do?" asked Silverdun.

  "Silverdun, you go get your old friend Mauritane and have him meet us at the foreign minister's office. I don't care what he's doing. If he's making love to his wife, tell her she can finish on her own."

  "Done," said Silverdun. "Though, having spent some time with Mauritane's wife, I pray it doesn't come to that."

  "Ironfoot," said Paet, standing and stuffing the slip of paper in his pocket, "you get back to your map and your books and you figure out how that weapon works. I don't care what it takes. I don't care how much you have to spend or who you have to kill to do it. Am I understood?"

  "No one is more eager to make that happen than I am," said Ironfoot. "I'll do my best."

  "Your life literally depends on it, Ironfoot. If you can't figure it out, I believe we are all dead."

  He strode out of his office. "And now I'm off to see if I can at least put our deaths off for a little while."

  Sela called out to him. "Paet," she said. "I really would like you to look at the dispatches I've found."

  "Later!" snapped Paet. He stormed back up the stairs, leaving Sela and Ironfoot glaring after him.

  Lord Valen once asked me how I defined true friendship. I told him that a true friend is one who forgives any indiscretion. I thought it a particularly fine thing to say, as I was having an affair with his wife at the time.

  -Lord Gray, Recollections

  meeting was swiftly arranged at the Barrack, where Mauritane was kneedeep in planning for the imminent invasion. When Silverdun entered his office, he was surrounded by a horde of junior officers and amanuenses, all clamoring for his attention.

  "We're on, Mauritane," said Silverdun. "They're waiting down the hall."

  "Later," Mauritane said brusquely to the group around him.

  "What's this all about?" whispered Mauritane as he and Silverdun made their way down a long hallway toward the meeting room. "As you may have noticed, I'm rather busy at the moment."

  "Attempting to clear your schedule is what this is all about," said Si1- verdun.

  Already in the meeting room were Everess, Paet, and Glennet. Everess and Paet were in the midst of an argument, but cut it off when Mauritane entered the room.

  "So good to see you, General Mauritane. How goes the war?"

  "War only goes one way," said Mauritane.

  "It's only an expression, General," said Everess. "Have a seat and let's discuss. Chief Paet here has information that he believes is of enormous significance."

  "It is of enormous significance," said Paet.

  "It most certainly is," said Glennet, his hands raised. "No one's arguing that. The question is what to do about it."

  "Is anyone going to tell me what it is?" asked Mauritane, taking his seat, glowering. "Or am I supposed to guess?"

  "The Black Artist Hy Pezho has been spotted alive and well in the City of Mab."

  "I understood he was dead," said Mauritane.

  "There's a lot of that going around," said Silverdun.

  "What this means to you, General," said Paet, "is that if Hy Pezho is indeed alive, then there's every chance that Mab is busily developing the Einswrath as we speak."

  "I received a memorandum earlier this morning," said Mauritane, "from you, telling me that there were no Einswrath. I've spent the entire day furiously rewriting my battle plans as a result. And now you're telling me you were wrong?"

  "We received new information," said Paet.

  Mauritane breathed deeply. "If I am to wage a war, it would be extremely helpful if the capabilities of the enemy did not change from hour to hour."

  "The question to you, then, General, is this," said Everess. "Knowing what you now know, do you still support the invasion?"

  Mauritane growled. "I've already committed the troops! They're marching now! I can't just call everyone back and tell them to forget the whole thing!"

  "Perhaps not," said Paet, "but we could merely fortify the border, rather than launch an invasion that will force a conflict. Who knows how long it will be before Mab crosses the border?"

  "In five days' time all of my troops will be fully deployed," said Mauritane. "How long do you expect them to stand around?"

  "If we attack Mab now, all of your men will die," said Paet.

  Mauritane sat silently, thinking. Everess began to speak, but Mauritane cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand, and Everess faltered into silence. Silverdun had to admit that he genuinely loved his old companion at times.

  "I agree with Paet," he finally said. "We should postpone the invasion until we're certain. If Mab's got the Einswrath, then all of my men and women are dead. If not, we may be able to stop a war with diplomacy. As far as I know, there has been no threat from Mab, no declaration of war."

  "But she's massing troops along the border," said Glennet. "Any fool can see-

  "A fool can see many things," said Mauritane. "But we don't know what Mab is doing. These troop movements could simply be to keep us in check, to test our response. They could be a feint in order to draw out another enemy: the Four Kingdoms, or a foe in another world entirely. Mab is famous for such tricks."

  "It's too late for this," said Glennet. "We must invade, and we must do it now before we find Mab standing at the gates of the Great Seelie Keep while we're still sitting here arguing."

  "I was against this invasion from the beginning," said Mauritane. "I was against it when we only suspected that Mab still had the Einswrath, and now I'm tempted to be certain of it.

  "The only good war, Baron Glennet," he continued, "is the one that's never fought. Everess told me so himself, when he was going about justifying the
creation of his Shadows to me. The nature of war has changed. And now you want to go running off into the same old war?"

  "It is not me you must convince," said Glennet. "Corpus has decided."

  "Then make them change their minds," said Mauritane. "If we move now, we'll be going to our deaths. Even without the Einswrath, Mab's Army outnumbers us. And with the Annwni legions, we'll be totally overpowered. My soldiers are the best there are, but they're still only Fae."