“A strong marriage to the south would cement your position,” Klemath continued, “and discourage those who might seek to take advantage of a young and inexperienced queen.”
Why is Raisa’s general offering political advice? Han wondered. What’s his dog in this fight?
Lord Hakkam nodded in agreement. “There may be opportunity here, if we proceed carefully. Whether any alliance with Arden would be acceptable to the Council of Nobles would depend on how claims for land and holdings are adjudicated and whether southerners have any claims on properties here in the north.”
Tilting his head back, Hakkam looked down his nose at the others. “If we come to Gerard’s aid, it would seem that grants of lands and estates in Arden should be ceded to us as victors. There’s the potential that many of us could do very well on a larger stage, with more resources.” He smiled, his eyes lighting with avarice. “Arden and Tamron! Think of it—miles and miles of fertile fields and riches such as we’ve never seen in the Fells.”
He’s in as long as he gets shares, Han thought. Everybody here is voting his own interest. Running this council is like herding cats and rats together and trying to keep anybody from having a meal.
“I was just in Arden,” Han said, “and it’s not what you think. They’ve been at war for almost a decade, so it’s pretty torn up. A lot of the crops have been destroyed, and they’ve been pouring money into their armies for so long there’s been little to spare for building and repair.”
They all looked at him as if a dog had suddenly spoken up, offering military advice.
“Well, then,” Hakkam said, folding his fingers carefully together and wrinkling his nose like he smelled something bad. “Likely many of the major landholders have been killed, so there will be properties available and in need of management. There may also be the opportunity to negotiate advantageous marriages with prominent families in Arden or Tamron.”
“That may be, Lord Hakkam,” Averill said, “assuming that Gerard wins. I’ve not been impressed with his military efforts so far. If Geoff wins against us as Gerard’s allies, I suspect we won’t be making any marriages to the south.”
He paused. “Your Highness, you already know my opinion of Gerard Montaigne. He’s a snake, and a snake doesn’t change its basic nature if you dress it up and give it a fancier title. I think it wise to look both inside and outside the queendom for a match, but as a father and a counselor, I cannot advise that you go to Montaigne. You would never sleep soundly in his bed.”
A ghost of a smile passed across Raisa’s face, coming and going so quickly that Han wasn’t sure he’d really seen it.
Maybe Montaigne wouldn’t sleep soundly, either, Han thought. That cheered him. But only a little.
“We may be able to secure our objectives without committing to your marriage to the Prince of Arden, Your Highness,” Lord Hakkam said. “Perhaps he would be satisfied with another match. My daughter Melissa, for example, is cousin to you, and a marriage between them would strengthen our ties outside the queendom.”
“It would be a grave error to allow Gerard Montaigne to gain a foothold here,” Lord Bayar said. “The next thing we know, we’ll have the crows of Malthus flocking into the cities and taking over our temples.”
“That will never happen,” Lord Averill said, glancing at Speaker Jemson, who, as usual, listened more than spoke. The expression on Averill’s face reminded Han that he had been and still was a Demonai warrior.
“Come, Gavan,” General Klemath said to Bayar, ignoring Averill. “Surely we can work this to our advantage and manage this in a way to keep us all safe. I’ll match our wizards against Gerard Montaigne any day. There is some risk, but there is much to gain in this.”
“Arrows are faster than jinxes,” Han murmured. Once again, they all stared at him.
“Alister is right,” Byrne said. “Used strategically, wizards could play a pivotal role in a military campaign. But we’re not used to cooperating in that way. We’ve not fought such a war in a thousand years.”
It was a peculiar marriage of interests—Lord Averill and Captain Byrne and Lord Bayar and Han Alister agreeing on anything was as rare as gold in Ragmarket.
“I think you’ll find that the Council of Nobles will concur that an alliance with Gerard Montaigne presents a rare opportunity,” Lord Hakkam said. “Especially now that he holds Tamron. Perhaps we should meet with his representatives before we come to a decision.”
“By all means, let us open negotiations with Montaigne’s representatives,” Raisa said. “That commits us to nothing, and we may learn more about his intentions. At the very least, it may keep him at bay as long as he thinks it is a possibility. While I am not keen on a match with Gerard, I certainly wish to keep all options open when it comes to the best interests of the realm. I think we have to be practical in such matters, whatever our personal inclinations. Uncle, I will leave this in your hands.”
Hakkam smiled like a sharp that spies a nick-ninny mark. “I will keep you apprised of developments, Your Highness.”
Ignoring the scowls on Bayar’s and Demonai’s faces, Raisa folded the letter, returned it to its envelope, and set it aside, closing the subject. “Is there anything else before we adjourn?”
Lord Bayar stood. “Your Highness, as you know, the queen appoints one member to the Wizard Council, who speaks for her interests. Our next meeting is scheduled a week from now, and it would be wise for you to have a representative there. We will want to choose a new High Wizard as soon as possible to provide you proper protection.” His gaze swept over Han, as if he were an example of improper protection.
“Really?” Raisa said, raising an eyebrow. “It’s scheduled in a week, is it?” She drummed her fingers on the table.
Bayar should have known better. Either he was blind to Raisa’s moods, or he didn’t care to try to read her. “As time is short, may I suggest my daughter Fiona?” he said. “You grew up together, and, as you said, it would be useful to have another young lady on the council.”
A young lady who would like to nudge Raisa right off the throne, Han thought.
Raisa folded her arms, a sign of resistance. “Don’t the Bayars already have a seat on the council? In addition to your role as High Wizard and chair?”
Lord Bayar nodded. “As my eldest, Micah, has turned eighteen, he will assume the Bayar seat on the council. I, of course, will continue as chair until a new High Wizard is chosen.”
So Micah’s the older twin, Han thought. Add Fiona, and that’d be three Bayars on the Wizard Council. That wasn’t such a good idea, especially if they were getting ready to pick a new High Wizard.
“Thank you, Lord Bayar,” Raisa said. “I appreciate your suggestion, but I have already chosen a representative to the council.”
Lord Bayar’s head came up, and he wiped a look of startlement off his face. “Really, Your Highness? So quickly? Is it someone I know?”
“Alister has agreed to serve,” Raisa said, nodding toward Han, where he stood against the wall. Once again, heads turned like beads on a string.
Street face, Han said to himself, looking back at them.
Gavan Bayar didn’t bother to hide his opinion.
“Your Highness,” he protested, turning back to Raisa. “No doubt Alister would bring a refreshing new perspective to our deliberations. However, despite your generous pardoning of him for past crimes, he would be ill suited to represent your interests among members of the oldest and most illustrious families of wizards in the queendom. His rather colorful history doesn’t prepare him for his duties there.”
“I don’t know, Lord Bayar,” Raisa said, her voice like sweet poison dripping into their ears. “The wizard council has been described to me as a nest of vipers. It may be that his street-fighting experience will serve him well in that environment.”
The council members shifted in their seats, looking everywhere but at the powerful High Wizard and the stubborn young queen. Han crossed his arms, affecting nonchalance, loo
king frankly back at anyone bold enough to meet his eyes.
“Princess Raisa, I beg you to reconsider,” said the red-haired woman. “There is some question as to whether Alister is truly gifted. He’s come out of nowhere, we know nothing about his family, and it seems his power has manifested only recently.”
“Lady Gryphon is right,” Bayar said. “There is talk that his so-called gifts are not gifts at all, but a manifestation of demonic possession, fueled by blood sacrifice.”
Takes a demon to know one, Han thought.
“I’m from Ragmarket, Lord Bayar,” he said, pulling away from the wall and standing, feet slightly apart. “And I came by my gifts in the usual way. As to why they didn’t surface earlier, well, there are reasons.”
Han’s gaze flicked to Lord Averill, who wore his trader face, then back to Bayar.
“As for my family, my father was Danel; he died as a mercenary in the southern wars,” Han went on. “My mother’s name was Sarah, called Sali, and my sister was Mari. They died last summer. But then you already knew that. Every time you forget, I’ll remind you. That’s the blood sacrifice I made to be here, and that’s enough.”
His words sent ripples through the council like a stone dropped into a pool. Han looked from face to face, and the only friendly one was Jemson’s. And Jemson looked worried.
Lady Gryphon cleared her throat. “That’s exactly my point, Your Highness. My son Adam was recently named to the council. When you compare his pedigree to that of a street thief, I think you’ll find that—”
“Lady Gryphon, your son was my teacher at Mystwerk House,” Han said. “If you have any questions about my credentials as a wizard, I suggest you send a note to Dean Abelard.”
“As it happens, Dean Abelard is on her way back to the Fells,” Lady Gryphon said. “We shall certainly ask her opinion; though, realistically, as a first-year student, you’d have had limited contact with the dean of Mystwerk House.”
“Actually, I saw quite a lot of Dean Abelard,” Han said, straightening his stoles. “She was…she was sort of a mentor to me.” He hadn’t intended on playing the Abelard card so soon, but just now it was a useful distraction.
Bayar’s eyes narrowed. Micah and Fiona would have already put a word in his ear about Abelard and Alister.
“Whatever Abelard says, Your Highness, you must weigh the risk in having such a person close to you,” Bayar began.
“This conversation is over,” Raisa said, bulling right through whatever Bayar intended to say. “I have made my decision, and Alister is my choice. It was my hope that the council would accept it with grace. Failing that, they had better learn to live with it.”
Lord Averill studied Han, eyes narrowed as if wondering what his sell-sword was up to.
Lord Bayar kept his eyes fixed on Raisa, and there was something in his gaze that gave Han the chills. He hadn’t survived on the streets as long as he had by overlooking murder in his enemies’ eyes.
The High Wizard inclined his head. “Very well, Your Highness. If Alister is your choice, we will certainly arrange to welcome him to the Council House on Gray Lady next week.” He still did not look at Han, as if acknowledging his presence would give him too much credit.
“I look forward to it,” Han said, displaying his streetlord smile. He tried to ignore the voice in his head—the one that said, Kill him now, Alister. Kill him now before he tries again.
“If that is everything, then we stand adjourned,” Raisa said abruptly. “Alister, Captain Byrne, Lord Demonai, Speaker Jemson, stay behind.”
She’s intentionally rubbing salt into the wounds she already made, Han thought.
The rest filed out, stiff-backed and silent.
Byrne poked his head out the door and spoke to someone just beyond, no doubt one of his bluejackets. Then he closed the door and returned to the table.
After a moment of awkward silence, Averill said, “You’ve made some enemies here today, daughter.”
“Do you think they were ever my friends, Father?” Raisa said bitterly, standing and pacing back and forth.
“They’ve never been your friends,” Averill said, “but now they have reason to think you will be difficult to manage.”
“Good,” Raisa said. “I won’t be managed, and I won’t be condescended to. ‘These are dangerous times, my dear,’” she mocked. “As if I don’t know that. They need to know that times have changed.”
“There have already been two attempts on your life,” Speaker Jemson said.
“Four, actually,” Raisa said, toying with the hilt of the dagger she always carried.
“Four, then,” Jemson amended. “I must admit I am worried, Your Highness.”
“So am I,” Raisa said. “But if we force their hands, they may make a mistake and we’ll have the proof we need. Otherwise, I can’t think of any way we’ll find out what really happened to my mother.”
“Or we’ll make a mistake, and you’ll be dead,” Byrne said. “They only need to get lucky once. We need to be perfect every time.”
My thinking exactly, Han said to himself.
As if she’d heard him, Raisa swung around and glared at Han. “What about you?” she demanded. “You’ve scarcely said a word. What do you think about all this?”
Han gathered his thoughts, surprised to be asked his opinion. “I think it might have been smart to wait until after the coronation to pick fights with Lord Bayar,” he said. “It’s like poking at a wasp’s nest—do it enough and you’ll get stung, no matter how careful you are. Trust me, I know.”
“You! You should talk,” Raisa said, opening and closing her hands as if she wanted to wrap them around somebody’s neck. “Do you think you made any friends in there?”
“Oh, they hated me already,” Han said, shrugging. “Don’t get me wrong: I think you’re right to start with the army. Until you’re in control of it, you’re at risk. It’s like running a gang that’s blood-sworn to your second in command. You don’t dare dismiss him ’cause they’ll turn on you. You already know that Klemath will fight like a demon to keep control of the army. If Klemath and Bayar throw in together, all you got is the guard.” He shrugged, nodding toward Byrne. “No disrespect to Captain Byrne, but that’s what Queen Marianna had, and she’s dead.”
“Briar Rose, you can’t be serious about a marriage with Gerard Montaigne,” Averill said, giving Han a “shut up” kind of look. “Please—tell me you’re not serious.”
“As long as I pretend to entertain the proposal from Montaigne, that keeps him in the south and drives a wedge between Klemath and Hakkam and Bayar,” Raisa replied. “They’ve been in bed together too often recently. The Council of Nobles will side with my uncle, especially if mercenaries do the fighting, and the crown pays the bills. Lord Hakkam will spend at least as much energy trying to engineer a match with my cousin Melissa as in serious negotiations for my betrothal.” She rolled her eyes. “Until I can get control of these people, I have to keep them from ganging up on me.”
“Was that why you had Lord Bayar read it out in council?” Jemson asked, understanding dawning on his face.
Raisa twisted the ring on her finger, smiling grimly. “Klemath had certainly read it already. There’s no telling who else. That thing has been opened and resealed so many times, it’s a miracle it’s still legible.”
She looked pointedly at Han. “You were saying?”
Don’t underestimate this girlie, Han reminded himself. Don’t ever do that. Some bluebloods grow up fast—just like streetlords.
He cleared his throat. “I agree you need to push the thing with the army, chancy as it is. Soon as it’s safe, you ditch Klemath and put someone in place who’s beholden to you. So I think what you did was right, though maybe I would’ve done it at a different time.”
Raisa gazed at him for a long moment, then gave a quick nod. “Yes. Well. All right, then.”
“I did not realize you planned to name Hunts Alone to the Wizard Council, Your Highness,” Averill said, f
rowning. “When did you make that decision?”
Lord Demonai obviously thought he should have been in on it. Han waited, wondering if Raisa would say anything about his demand to be named to the council.
She didn’t.
“What choice did I have?” Raisa said, like she wasn’t happy about it. “I wasn’t going to send Fiona Bayar. This way, Alister can keep an eye on them.”
“General Klemath was right about one thing,” Speaker Jemson said. “These are dangerous times.”
Raisa said briskly, “What’s done is done. I expect you three to hold Klemath’s feet to the fire on the army issue. I want to see real progress within three months. Look over those mercenary contracts and see which ones are up for renewal. I’ll issue a writ that no new contracts are to be ratified without all four signatures. If you get resistance, let me know.” She sighed, rubbing her eyelids with the tips of her fingers. “I’m sorry to put you in this position,” she said, speaking through her hands. “I wish I had someone in the army I could trust.”
“Give me a little time, Your Highness,” Byrne said. “I’ll make a few inquiries and give you some names. Some of the officers are native born. Another possibility is to transfer some good officers from the Guard to the Army.”
“That’s what we don’t have, is time,” Raisa said. “So much to do, so little time and money.”
With that, she dismissed them. As Han passed through the cluster of bluejackets around the door, he looked back to see Raisa standing alone in her privy chamber, head down, twisting the wolf ring on her right hand.
She’s more worried than she lets on, Han thought.
C H A P T E R T W E N T Y-N I N E
A GAME OF SUITORS
Gerard Montaigne wasn’t the only one interested in a match with Raisa. As word spread throughout the Seven Realms that the missing princess heir had resurfaced and would be crowned Queen of the Fells, the flow of suitor gifts recommenced, from inside and outside the queendom. It was a mixed blessing. Raisa still hoped to put off marriage as long as possible, but her coffers were nearly empty and she wanted to continue to support the Briar Rose Ministry in Ragmarket and Southbridge.
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