Nobody seemed to fully grasp what Kallin had just said, especially after the two anecdotes about Morschen superstitions, until Edya broke the silence.
“So, when The Kindler was banished from the world, he took the hand of his greatest enemy, to show that he had conquered, no matter what came after. And the hand still held the sword and Ring of Taren the First.”
“Which means,” said Marrdin “that in order to find the Ring of Taren, we would have to search the deepest pits of the Third Hell.”
Daliana was silent after Kallin finished his narrative. Edya looked up at her, and then she seemed to wake up. “Kallin, I want to see Erygan, and I want to see him now.”
Collapse
Erygan lazily pulled out his pipe and filled it with Ristan pipeweed. The match he struck to light the weed cast strange shadows over his face. Daliana sat, leaning back into her chair, across the table from him, glaring. Edya stood between the two, feeling unsafe, studying the maps and reports in front of her, trying to avoid the notice of the two Morschcoda, King and Queen. Marrdin was doing much the same, where he sat on the far side of the room engaged in a quiet conversation with Kallin. Edya could feel the tension in the room waiting to snap. The wrong word would have any of the four Morschcoda in the room at each others’ throats in moments. She had seen it happen before at The Councils. Then, it had been dangerous. Now, it would be devastating. And if that happened, they would lose Erygan and his army, which would lose them Rista and Marrdin as well. Norrin might even pull out of Dishmo Kornara. She needed that to not happen. “My guess,” she said in hopes of reducing the tension in the room, “is that Makret has retreated back towards Agrista. He knows that we know that he doesn’t have the strength to attack any one of us directly, so he’s going to fall back into land that the Deshika know until their reinforcements arrive from Alega, or wherever they’re coming from.” She looked around again. Erygan seemed to be ignoring her, and Daliana looked like she had not heard her. Suddenly, everything went wrong.
“You had no right to even ask Kallin to bring his army westward, Erygan.”
Erygan did not sit up. He did not even pull his pipe out of his mouth. He just kept meeting Daliana’s relentless stare and answered her. “Whether I had the right or not is beside the point. We need The Learned, here and now, not three hundred leagues to the west four months after Makret has crushed us.”
“Kallin represents Storinea, a part of my Empire. You have no right to issue orders to anyone who answers to me.”
Erygan did take the pipe out of his mouth this time. “To you?” The contempt in his voice was unmistakable, but Erygan did not shout. Not yet. Edya almost wished he would. “You rule this ‘Empire’ because Taren named you his heir. That may be because you’re his daughter, and maybe it’s because he just couldn’t find anyone better for the job. Either way, Drogoda has no Morschcoda, so you answer for it as well your own Dothoro. Daken isn’t here, and Galeth is on a mission you assigned him, so you also speak for Meclarya, as you do for Caladea, Armanda, and Noldoron, all for the same reason. Storinea is the only one of your countries with a Morschcoda here, and now you demand answers from me, while I don’t even call you Queen.” He clamped his pipe back in his mouth as he stood up. “I don’t owe you allegiance, nor do I want to. Let the other Morschcoda decide what they will. You aren’t Taren, and you aren’t yourself, Daliana. And until you are yourself again, I am leaving this city.” With that he left, pushing open both of the heavy doors as if they weighed nothing. Marrdin also left, but reluctantly. Whatever the distance between them, Rista and Drogoda were the two closest nations, bound tightly together by the similarity of their magic. Not even an hour passed before they could hear the Erygan’s small army and Marrdin’s much larger one march away. Kallin continued to read his papers, not daring to look up over them. Daliana continued to glare at the door that Erygan had left through.
For one brief moment as Erygan was speaking about Drogoda’s lack of a Morschcoda, Edya believed that both the Shadow Lord’s eye and Marrdin’s had been directed at her, not Daliana. She began to wonder if, as Carde had said, she could take the Flowing Throne for herself. But she knew the power of that chair better than any of the Morschcoda. She did not believe that it would allow someone of her common born blood to master it.
* * * * *
Outside of Alquendiro, the tall Lord of Shadows and the taller Lord of Ice stopped, when the high, ancient towers of the palace of Alquendiro were just visible above the horizon. The flag of Drogoda was flying proudly from their peaks, but even the largest standard flying from the pinnacle of the Topmast could not be made out at the distance from which they stared back to the south.
“I hoped that she would be like her father, Marrdin. Taren would have understood what I did and why.”
“She is like her father, Erygan. The same pride, the same arrogance. The same compassion.”
Erygan shook his head. “But not his patience, or his deep understanding of the way things work in this world.”
“Those come from experience, not just age. Taren was a warrior and a king. Daliana has been on the front lines of Dothoro’s political battlegrounds for centuries. She has yet to fight a real war.”
“And in such people, all our hope is placed. Ironic.”
“Ironic that those who have never even defended themselves must now stand against the world and its armies?”
“No. Ironic that the daughter of one of the greatest military leaders to ever live has never stood on a contested battlefield. How will she hold her empire together? I can only wonder.”
“She has Edya.”
“And she’ll need her. But will Edya understand that what I said was meant as much for her as for Daliana?” He shook his head and looked away from the towers and fluttering banners that seemed on the edge of the world. “The words of a Morschcoda mean either nothing or too much.” He kicked his horse into a trot, and wheeled north to his home. Marrdin looked at the banner of a people so much like his own, and yet so different. And then he too turned his horse to the north and the home he could not return to.
* * * * *
Back inside of the city, Edya stared hard at her new Queen. “That was badly handled, my lady.”
“You’re never that formal with me, Edya” Daliana snapped. “Why now?”
“Because Erygan is right.” She paused and braced herself for the explosion that she was certain would follow. It did not come. “My lady?”
Daliana still had not looked at Edya, or even really registered her remark. “Yes, general?”
“Well, Morschcoda Erygan is right. You aren’t yourself.”
“No. I’m not” she said heavily, after a noticeable pause. “I’ve felt it slipping away ever since I was named Taren’s heir. I haven’t had the time to come to terms with what that means. I haven’t even had time to understand what those terms might mean. I knew that I would have to stay in Alquendiro. I just wasn’t prepared for how long. It’s been over one month, and there isn’t enough green in this city.” She let out a long breath. “I need to go back to Dothoro. I miss the forest. There, I know how things work. I’m as lost here as you are among the Morschcoda.”
“And what of me, your majesty?”
“What of you, Kallin?”
“What shall I do now? I brought my army eastwards because of Erygan, and now, he is gone, and his empire and yours are on poor terms with each other. Do I take my army back Dorok-Baan? Makret will certainly hear about what has happened here.”
“And why do you think that?”
“I do not believe that Makret is the traitor that both he and we say he is. For some reason, I feel in my bones that Taren planned much of this, maybe even Makret’s betrayal. Perhaps Erygan knows that. And perhaps Erygan and Makret are planning something together.”
“Why?”
“Because Taren wanted to ensure that he could deal as much damage to The Kindler and the Deshika as possible. The best person to do that now, of course, is
Makret, who leads the Deshik armies while The Kindler is away. And Erygan has both the best reasons and the best chance to do that damage with Makret. But my question stands. Do I and mine go back to Dorok-Baan?”
It was Edya who answered. “No. It would take too long, and if we needed you, we would need to wait even longer. We might be conquered before you’d arrive.”
“I’m sorry Edya, but only a Morschcoda or the Empress can allow me to stay here. The Learned is my country’s Elite force, after all.”
“Elite force my ...” She let the comment fade, but continued arguing immediately. “Your country’s only permanent army, you mean.” She paused to see if Daliana would order Kallin one way or the other. She did not even acknowledge the discourse. “Fine, go then.”
Kallin gave a small bow and left. Edya thought that she could just see a frown on his face. She might have to have a talk with him, informally of course, before he left the city. She could not avoid the politics of her situation right then. She turned and looked at Daliana.
“I am going back to Eshtam-Nis. Today. You’re in charge here until I return.”
As Daliana left the throne room, Edya began to wonder about Drogoda’s Flowing Throne. Though she did not believe it would accept the common blooded Morschen that she was as its master, she began to feel that it might not have a choice. She knew that she had no choice but to try.
* * * * *
Edya walked through halls seldom used by anybody in the palace. As one of Taren’s guards, it had been her duty to know all of these deserted passages. And now that knowledge was useful, though walking through the deserted halls was painful for her. An assassin had tried to kill Taren over three and a half centuries before, in the tunnel she now walked through. Her father had been a member of the Spear on that day, and had died in Taren’s place. She had never heard what had happened to the assassin, but she still walked in silence, honouring her father’s memory through the preservation of the country Taren had ruled. Almost as soon as Daliana had left the city, Edya had summoned Kallin, who had not yet departed, and Merchant Prince Ren Enschiva, who was the chief member of the Merchant’s Conclave in Drogoda. She also asked, as one did not summon such people, the heads of Drogoda’s two main Great Houses who were from the city, Lady Elshay Cabrinda and the ancient Lord Barthen Grosht, who was well into his eleventh century. Even now, he wore armour of an ancient design, and a massive sword hung at his side. In contrast to him, the Lady Elshay wore an expensive gown of blue and green, which Ren eyed with an expert glance. It was likely that Ren, as the foremost merchant in all of Drogoda, and who had made his first fortune in textiles, had sold or given her the dress. Elshay Cabrinda was the Provincial Governor of the Island of Alquendiro, and sat on the Mordak Council, as did Ren Enschiva. Edya would have summoned the whole council, but the other three Governors were not in the city. As for the military advisors, she herself could speak for all of them if needed, as she herself was the highest ranked of all of them, and she needed to do so.
“What is the meaning of this unorthodox meeting, General Reeshnar?” asked Barthen as he saw Edya enter. The old man’s voice was still deep and strong.
“Lord Barthen, I must apologize for the suddenness, but that couldn’t be helped.” She paused for a moment, trying to decide which course to take. She decided on the most direct one. “Whether you are aware or not, the alliance that the Drogodan Empire has with the Kingdom of Torridesta is on the verge of collapse. We need their support if we are to win this war with the Deshika. Not only that, but our own Empire is crumbling from within. Queen Daliana has had no contact with any of the Morschcoda who serve her aside from Morschcoda Kallin for over one month. Supposedly, they were under orders to report at the end of every week, if possible. Neither have we heard from Admiral Jreshti at the Dragon’s Claws. Queen Daliana has left the capital, leaving Drogoda without an authority figure not solely attached to the military. We need to change that, and quickly.”
“Lord Barthen” Lady Elshay interrupted, “if there is to be a new Morschcoda, it must be one of energy, and sound mind, quick and decisive. You are, to say it delicately, not as young as you once were. So,” she said turning on Edya, “I think I should be the one to take on this lofty title.”
“I would agree,” said Edya carefully, especially emphasizing the word ‘would’, “if not for the fact that when I begged you to consider taking the title not more than one week ago, you had me forcibly removed from your house and slammed your door in my face. No, I’m here to say that I think I should take the title of Morschcoda.”
“You?” The contempt in Elshay’s voice was unmistakable. “You are not the leader of a Great House.”
“No. I am the leader of something much larger: the Army of Imperial Drogoda.” The implied threat made Ren shift uncomfortable, and Barthen cough, but Elshay had no problem with ignoring the obvious meaning of the statement.
“What difference does that make?”
Edya sighed, and went into a long and complicated political explanation to avoid seeming like she was holding a sword to the throat of those who were there. “While Taren was alive, I had authority throughout his entire Empire equal to that of a Morschcoda in his or her own land. Well, Makret did, and as I was named High General to replace him, I inherited that power, while Taren was alive.” Though Kallin shifted upon hearing the traitor’s name, and not Druoth as the rest of the Morschcoda called him, he said nothing. “The Morschcoda were sworn to Taren, and as Taren’s High General, if needed I could assume that I was able to order their cooperation. I can’t do that anymore. Since none of the Morschcoda who swore to Taren are sworn to Daliana in the same way, I’ve lost much of my authority outside of the army. Those who sat on the Council with Daliana are reluctant to recognize her as their superior, and since they consider her their equal, I’m not their equal anymore. I need that authority back if I am to keep this country and this empire from falling apart even as the Deshika are poised for invasion.” When she finished, Kallin gave a small nod, satisfied with how Edya had talked her way out of the corner Elshay had been trying to back her into.
“Invasion? With fifteen thousand soldiers? I think you overestimate them and their abilities, High General.”
“Not when Deshik reinforcements numbering over four hundred thousand soldiers are on route to our shores.”
Though it looked like Lady Elshay privately doubted both the number Edya stated and Edya’s sanity, she asked in a perfectly calm and polite voice “What would you do as Morschcoda?”
“I can, and will, authorize the arming of merchant ships, the seizure of vessels sailing to ports controlled by Deshika. I can ‘invite’ the armies of our allies inside of Drogoda, so that our full force can be gathered in time to stop, if not destroy, this new army.”
“Why can Daliana not do that?”
“Because Daliana is gone.” Edya kept her frustration from showing, barely. “She has returned to Eshtam-Nis to rest and regain control over herself.”
Elshay simply crossed her arms. “I will not stand for a soldier to take the Throne of Waves.” The way she said it made it sound as though her decision was final. The others had a different opinion.
“What you will do is hardly the point,” broke in Lord Barthen, “because I will stand for her. After all, the throne of Drogoda has always belonged to men and women of war. We are not governed, nor have we ever been, by the gold scepter of politics, but by the steel sword of war. And now we need it more than ever.” He stood up, slowly and stiffly. “I vote for General Reeshnar as the new Morschcoda of Drogoda.”
Ren also stood. “The Merchant Clans have never been silent in a succession, nor will we be now. But all merchants understand the profits of war, and we have always backed one who understands warfare for us to deal with. And so I think that I can speak for all the Merchant Clans in Drogoda as I also cast my vote for Morschcoda General Edya Reeshnar.”
Rising Vengeance (The Anarian Chronicles Book 1) Page 30