Spy's Honor

by Amy Raby

  Lucien stiffened. “Stolen ships.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion.”

  The emperor leaned forward, his eyes dark and angry. “It is nonsense to speak of Riorcans possessing ships. Riorca is a province of Kjall and has been for decades. Those ships are in the hands of thieves and mutineers. Surrender them immediately.”

  Janto shook his head. “You’re in no position to make demands. Even if you were, the ships are not mine to give. Take it up with the Riorcan fleet commander.”

  “There is no Riorcan fleet commander! The man who calls himself that is an escaped slave, nothing more!”

  “By some accounts, I am an escaped slave.”

  Lucien scowled and folded his arms.

  Janto rose. It was time to make his exit before Lucien could come up with any more ridiculous ideas. “I’ll see you at the negotiating table, Emperor. In the meantime, think on my offer.”

  “Wait,” said Lucien.

  Janto paused.

  “Return my stolen ships, and I will accept your offer. My forces will leave Mosar peacefully.”

  “The Riorcan ships are not mine to give. Even if they were, I would not betray an ally who fought at my side.” Janto headed for the door.

  “Jan-Torres, what do you want in exchange for those stolen ships?”

  Janto waved a dismissive hand. “If you want ships, accept my original offer. It gives you four.”

  “I want the two Riorcan ships, and I’m willing to deal. What do you want? Money? Preferential trade agreements? Kjall would be a powerful ally for Mosar.”

  Janto hesitated with his hand on the door handle. Indeed, Kjall would. This was exactly the kind of agreement he wanted. But at the price of betraying the Riorcans?

  There was no chance Riorca was going to come out of this well. The destruction of the fleet would temporarily prevent the Kjallans from attacking Mosar or Sardos, but not Riorca, which shared their continent and was accessible by land. What difference would it make, in the long run, if he seized the Riorcan ships and returned them to Kjall?

  No difference at all, probably. Lucien didn’t need those ships; he was demanding them as a matter of principle. But there were lines Janto would not cross, not if he wanted to be worthy of his throne. And he didn’t trust Lucien, not fully. It was in the young emperor’s interest to break up the alliance between Mosar, Sardos, and Riorca. Janto had to make certain he did not succeed in doing so. “There is nothing you can offer me that will induce me to betray my allies,” he said firmly.

  “Perhaps we need only to hit upon the right lure. Did Rhianne accept your offer of marriage?”

  Janto froze. “I have not yet made the offer.”

  “You were going to.”

  “I’ve been busy destroying your fleet.”

  “You haven’t made it because you know she won’t accept. She’s hostile. Am I correct?”

  “What do you care?” said Janto. “You said you’d kill me if I touched your cousin.”

  “Perhaps I’ve experienced a change of heart,” said Lucien. “Rhianne once cared about you a great deal. Her happiness means much to me. So tell me: has she been receptive?”

  Janto bit his lip. “She’s angry about the lives lost in the assault and that I deceived her about my identity.”

  “You are making a mistake with her, and I think I know what it is,” said Lucien.

  “There’s no mistake,” said Janto. “She’s angry about the things I’ve done, and she’ll either forgive me or she won’t. If I had more time—”

  “It’s not about time,” said Lucien. “I mean, yes, time would help. But it’s unnecessary. Rhianne is rational; she’s just not accustomed to war. If someone were to put your invasion into context for her, explain that you haven’t been executing anyone, or torturing anyone, or even looting our treasury—”

  “I did explain some of that.”

  “Yes, but she doesn’t trust you right now. She trusts me.”

  “And you’re offering to talk to her for me?”

  “Yes, in exchange for the Riorcans,” said Lucien. “Hand them over, and I’ll return Mosar to you peacefully, negotiate trade agreements, and speak to Rhianne on your behalf, an act that might lead to an even stronger alliance between our nations.”

  The offer hit Janto like a punch to the gut. It was everything he wanted, absolutely everything. A peaceful recovery of Mosar, an alliance with Kjall, and, possibly, reconciliation with the woman he loved. There was only that small matter of betraying men who’d fought in good faith by his side. He forced his lips to form the words “No deal.”

  Lucien sighed. “I see you are intractable on this point. Come sit down, and I’ll tell you something about Rhianne.”

  “In exchange for the Riorcans?”

  “No. For free.”

  That sounded suspicious. “Why?”

  “Because you’re a terrible negotiator, but you seem loyal. This seems a point in your favor.”

  Wary, Janto returned to his chair and sat.

  “You cannot put Rhianne in a cage,” said Lucien. “It is the worst mistake you can make with her. The story of the woodcutter’s son and the horse of mist—do you know it? Is it told on Mosar?”

  “I believe so. In our version, it’s a potter’s son.”

  “Makes no difference. The boy goes out late at night and finds a great black horse. He has no bridle or saddle, but he gets up on the animal anyway. The horse is so responsive he can guide it with his hands, and its gaits are so smooth he doesn’t need a saddle, and he rides all over the countryside, and it’s the fastest and finest of all horses. By morning, the horse has brought him home and gone off on its own, but every night it comes back, so every night he goes on this glorious ride. And he thinks, I should capture this horse and make it my own. So he gets a bridle, and that night he tries to put a bridle on the horse so he can keep it. And you know what happens?”

  “The horse turns to mist and he never sees it again,” said Janto.

  “Exactly. Rhianne is the horse of mist,” said Lucien. “My father thinks her confusing and impossible to understand. He could not be more wrong—Rhianne is the most straightforward of women. She’s generous and openhearted, and most of the time she’ll tell you exactly what she’s thinking. There are only two rules you need follow with her, and they are absolute. First, don’t mistreat her. And second, don’t cage her. If you try to cage her, she will fight you with every bit of strength she has.”

  “I’m not caging her,” said Janto. “I put her in custody to keep her safe.”

  Lucien rolled his eyes. “That’s the mistake I was talking about.”

  • • •

  While he awaited the return of the fleet commanders, Janto visited the wounded, settled disagreements, and attended funerals. As he went about these duties, he noticed a subtle but unmistakable change in his men. They saluted him more crisply; they stood straighter in his presence. They stared at him when they thought he wasn’t looking. And high-ranking officers who had questioned his decisions in the past now deferred without a quibble.

  He’d always craved the respect of his men, but now that he had it, he didn’t enjoy it as much as he’d thought he would. He felt as if an invisible barrier, which nobody, not even his officers, dared to cross, had been erected around him. And with no one questioning his decisions, he had no sounding board for trying out ideas. What if he made a foolish decision and no one called him on it?

  Folding his arms, he watched the military procession from his balcony. It wound its way up the switchbacks of the Imperial Road, bringing him Kal-Torres and the fleet commanders.

  When they arrived, he met them at the front gates with as much pomp as he could muster. He had no musicians, nor could he spare even a single pyrotechnic from signaling duty. But he lined up his officers to receive the battle-weary men with salute
s and shouts. Kal was first to enter, bronze and handsome as a living statue. He’d taken a bullet in the leg during battle, but the ship’s Healer had done good work on him, and he wasn’t limping. Gishi fluttered above him, keening in triumph. Admiral Llinos of the Sardossians followed, and then Admiral Durgan of the Riorcans. Durgan was a small, quiet man whom Janto studied curiously. As Lucien had mentioned, the man was a former slave. It remained to be seen whether he possessed the skills of a leader and a diplomat.

  The kitchens had bustled with activity all morning. Freed slaves and soldiers too infirm to fight had busied themselves cooking a feast for the returning heroes. Janto led the fleet admirals and their officers to the grand ballroom and delivered the first of many toasts celebrating their victory.

  Food and wine flowed copiously, though Janto drank lightly in order to retain his wits. When the party was beginning to wind down and an overstimulated Sashi had retreated into his shirt for a nap, Admiral Llinos pulled Janto aside. “Your Majesty, I want to confer with you on a matter of some delicacy before we begin the negotiations.”

  “What matter is this?”

  “As you know, the Kjallan Empire has always been insular. They marry their imperial princesses to great Kjallan military leaders and the heads of powerful families, never to foreign heads of state. I believe this is part of the reason Kjall so willingly invades other nations. They have no ties to those nations. Now, the deposed Emperor Florian has two daughters—one daughter and one niece, actually—and the niece is of marriageable age. I understand she was previously betrothed, but her fiancé was killed during the invasion.”

  “That is correct.”

  “So she’s available.”

  Janto nodded. “I plan to make an offer for her hand.”

  “Good, you and I are thinking along the same lines,” said Llinos. “But an offer? Under the circumstances, an offer will be refused. You must make it part of the settlement.”

  Janto blinked. “Force it on her?”

  “An imperial princess never has much of a choice in her marriage partner—nor does a king, as I understand it?” He raised his eyebrows.

  “For the most part, no,” Janto agreed.

  “We must bring pressure to bear on the Kjallans to join the wider community and marry their women outside the empire.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Admiral Llinos departed, swaying a little with drink.

  Janto bit his lip, hardly able to sort out his feelings. He wanted Rhianne to marry him and return home with him as the queen of Mosar. But she was so hostile right now, and he had so little time. It was unlikely she would accept his proposal. Could he do as Llinos suggested and make it part of the peace settlement? Rhianne had nearly been forced into one marriage already. It didn’t seem right to force her into another. And Lucien’s advice lay heavy on his heart. He would never mistreat Rhianne, but under the circumstances, how could he avoid keeping her in protective custody? Lucien didn’t understand the realities of his situation.

  He sipped his wine. He was looking for San-Kullen when Admiral Durgan, the Riorcan, intercepted him and addressed him in fluent diplomatic Kjallan. “Your Majesty, may I speak to you in private?”

  “Of course.”

  They moved to a quiet corner of the slowly emptying ballroom.

  “What are your expectations for the upcoming negotiations?” asked Durgan.

  “Well,” said Janto, “Mosar will be liberated, either by force or through peaceful agreement. I hope to set up trade settlements to promote better relations over the long term. Realistically, these agreements will work only if Kjall will truly benefit from them, since our influence over Emperor Lucien ends in a matter of days.”

  “And what of Riorca?”

  “Admiral, I am willing to offer your ships and your people safe harbor at Mosar. My soldiers have scoured the city and freed more than a thousand Riorcan slaves—”

  “This I already know,” said Durgan.

  “And I would be happy to welcome them to Mosar as free men and women. We have land available for them to settle.”

  Durgan’s brows lowered. “King Jan-Torres, my people have no wish to be Mosari refugees. Our interest is in liberating Riorca. Am I to understand that these peace negotiations will offer no benefit whatsoever to Riorca?”

  “What concessions do you desire in the negotiations?”

  “No less than what you wish for Mosar. Freedom!”

  “And how are we to negotiate for it?”

  “We demand it in exchange for young Lucien’s life.”

  Janto shook his head. “It won’t work, Admiral. If we kill Lucien, someone else will rise to power in his place. If you can find a way to bring pressure to bear on Kjall such that they will give up Riorca, I would love to see it happen. But I don’t see how. The only reason Lucien will withdraw from Mosar is that his fleet has been destroyed. He could not hold my country if he tried. But Riorca is accessible by land, and we haven’t made a dent in Kjall’s land forces.”

  “My people fought by your side, King Jan-Torres. Do you not now owe us the same favor in return? To liberate Riorca is not as difficult as you believe. My people would rise up. They have already! Even now, there are parts of Riorca Kjall does not control. If your fleet gave us support by sea—”

  “Admiral, surely you are not proposing that my people begin another war.”

  “Finish a war, not begin one.”

  “Take it up with Admiral Llinos, not me. The Sardossians may be capable of fighting another war, but my people are not. We’ve lost nearly a fifth of our population. Some of our cities have been razed, while others are badly damaged, and we’re heading into the storm season, during which we can neither build nor grow food. I fear the Kjallans have plundered our stores, and there’s only so much food we can carry back with us. My people will have their hands full just keeping their children fed. A war is utterly beyond them.”

  “My people fought for you. We gave our lives for you. And you offer us nothing?”

  Janto rubbed his temples. Negotiations hadn’t even begun yet, and already his head hurt. “I offer your people land, safe harbor, and citizenship on Mosar.”

  Durgan glared at him. “I told you, my people have no wish to be refugees.”

  “Then I cannot help you, Admiral.”

  “I see,” said Admiral Durgan coldly. He walked away, his back very straight.

  San-Kullen, who’d been standing at a discreet distance, approached. “Sire? Are you feeling well? You don’t look yourself.”

  Janto shook his head. “I’m just tired. Frustrated.” He made an exasperated gesture at Durgan’s retreating form. “He wants things from me I can’t give. Llinos wants things from me I can’t give. So do Lucien and Rhianne. Why does everyone demand the impossible?”

  San-Kullen smiled wryly. “Welcome to the Mosari throne, Your Majesty.”

  37

  Rhianne’s stomach fluttered when Jan-Torres entered her room. It was so irritating the way her body reacted to him. She knew intellectually that Janto and Jan-Torres were different people and one of them wasn’t even real, but her body hadn’t received the message. Her body remembered only that those were the hands that had stroked her, those were the lips that had kissed her, and that part of her, the stupid part, still wanted him.

  “Rhianne,” he greeted her. He turned to Morgan, who still rested on the couch. “Are you recovering well?”

  “Getting stronger, Your Majesty,” said Morgan.

  “I’m glad to hear it.” He turned back to Rhianne. “I’d like to speak with you in private.”

  Morgan struggled up from his prone position. “I’ll move to the bedroom.”

  “No—stay where you are,” Rhianne scolded. “Jan-Torres and I will go to the bedroom.” When Morgan raised a worried eyebrow, she added, “We’ll be fine. We’re just going to
talk.” She had concerns about Jan-Torres, but that he would assault or molest her was not among them.

  Jan-Torres escorted her to the bedroom, which was smaller and more intimate than the one in her imperial apartment. Because of the disruption in the palace, she had no servants or slaves looking after her and was glad she’d taken the trouble to pick up after herself and make the bed, not that she’d done a spectacular job. In a corner of the room, a few chairs nestled in a quiet reading nook. She claimed one of them, sitting up straight and rubbing her palms nervously on the fabric. Jan-Torres took the seat next to her.

  “I have a few things to tell you,” said Jan-Torres. “The first is that we will be negotiating the peace settlement this afternoon. You and Lucien will represent Kjall. My brother and I will represent the Mosari contingent of the invading forces, and we’ll be joined also by Admiral Llinos and Admiral Durgan.”

  “Who are they?”

  “The Sardossian and Riorcan commanders, respectively.”

  Sardossians. She kept forgetting about them and thinking the army belonged entirely to Jan-Torres. “What’s this about a Riorcan commander?”

  “A small contingent of Riorcans assisted us in the invasion, and Llinos and I have offered them a seat at the negotiating table. We need a tiebreaking vote if Mosar and Sardos disagree.”

  Soldier’s hell, that was a terrible idea. “Riorcans are hostile to Kjallan interests. They’re not going to negotiate in good faith for peace with Mosar and Sardos.”

  “I’m aware of the hostility,” said Jan-Torres. “Because of it, Llinos and I will have extra motivation to present a united front. Don’t worry about the negotiating part. It’s Lucien’s job, and he’s well equipped for it. I just think you should be there.”

  Rhianne nodded. Anything to get her out of this gilded prison and see Lucien again. She didn’t like the idea of a Riorcan negotiator, but if the Riorcans had been part of the invasion, perhaps there was no avoiding it.