“Lucky you,” he said. “I only rated one traitorous count and a mad dwarf."
Her memory clicked suddenly and Adriana swung herself upright, tearing away from Alexander's grasp. She regretted the motion instantly as a bright dagger of pain made her wince and rub her skull.
“Weirdling,” she said. “The warlock is a Weirdling."
Alexander appeared less shocked than she'd expected. “Perfect,” he muttered. “Two dwarves, a count, one general and a prince. Throw in a Weirdling warlock and a stolen grimoire and you've got the perfect conspiracy. Too bad there's no one to tell in here."
“Fenric?” Adriana asked.
Alexander nodded. For the first time Adriana noticed the livid bruise on his jaw and, looking closer, she thought his hair was matted with blood on one side. Perhaps the warlock had been right about his methods over Stamovan's.
“Fenric, Draston, Tarlsman, Stamovan, Hafflston and our mysterious warlock. They want to consolidate the Western Realm under one banner again, just like the old days. Oh, and Hafflston wasn't lying about a dwarven revolt. Tarlsman plans to rule the Stronghold. Funny thing is, I'll wager my year's wages that the Stronghold becomes part of the Empire right after Addamantia and Forthaven. Tarlsman's just a dupe for Fenric."
“But the Emperor—"
“Will die, probably tonight. It's the last thing Fenric needs to send the city out to war."
“It's impossible. He'll have to put the blame on Addamantia somehow."
Alexander dropped the cloth into a bucket at his feet. “I think that's why I'm still alive."
“Oh,” said Adriana. “Gods, how could he? Murder his own father?” She ran her fingers through her hair and clasped her arms over her ears for a moment, as if she could thwart the conspirators’ plan by refusing to hear it. After a moment she looked up at Alexander and asked, “Is your head all right?"
“Hurts like the blazes,” he said. “But only if I move, talk or think."
Adriana gave the attempt at levity a small smile and turned to survey their surroundings. The cell itself contained only the cot and the bucket of water. Through a wall of thick iron bars she saw a row of similar cages across a small walkway. The torches were mounted in stands protruding from the floor, well out of reach from the confines of the cells.
“Do you know where we are?” Alexander asked.
“I think we're in the keep's dungeon. It can't be the Imperial jail—there are windows in the cells there. The dungeon's not used very often, just when the jail is too crowded. It's the only part of the keep below ground. Nobody'll think to look for us here. If anyone looks for us at all, that is."
“Kandys might,” Alexander said. “She got away when Stamovan clobbered me.” The Huntsman appeared ready for a sarcastic retort but Adriana merely shrugged.
“Pellorin expected me to meet him in the wizards’ chambers. I don't know that he'll find us here, though."
“Won't Sirgar wonder where you are?"
Adriana shook her head. “Not likely. He's assigned to the Emperor's quarters tonight."
“Well, that's one thing in the Emperor's favor.” Alexander sounded unconvinced that Sirgar's presence would be enough to save Theodoric, and Adriana was inclined to agree. She returned to the cot and sat in silence next to the Huntsman.
Some time later an unseen door creaked open. Both captives came to their feet as Stamovan and Draston appeared. Stamovan leered at the pair as he unlocked their cell with a large key, but Draston wrung his hands together as his eyes darted from Alexander to Adriana and back. Stamovan stepped into the cell and yanked Adriana to him, hefting his mace with one hand while holding her in the other's iron grip.
“You'll cooperate now, Huntsman,” said the dwarf, “or I'll spread ‘er all over yon wall."
“Turn around,” said Draston. Adriana saw Alexander hesitate briefly, but Stamovan raised his mace and the Huntsman complied. He put his hands behind his back and allowed Draston to bind them.
“You'll never pull it off,” said Adriana. “No one's going to believe that Alexander killed the Emperor."
“When Prince Fenric himself announces it? I think there'll be plenty of people wantin’ Addamantian blood,” said Stamovan.
“Not the Imperial wizards,” said Adriana. “They'll know you killed Nikkolynda."
Stamovan released Adriana and grabbed Alexander by the back of his shirt. He propelled the bound Huntsman out of the cell and Draston pulled the door closed after them. “You think any of those louts'll stand up to the man who killed Nikkolynda?” Stamovan said.
“I've seen your warlock!” Adriana shouted. “He's a Weirdling!"
Stamovan guffawed and pushed Alexander out of sight. “Right,” he said. “A Weirdling. And I suppose he'll lead an army of elves in to conquer the Empire? I'll see you when the night's work's done, sweets."
Adriana hardly heard the heavy footsteps recede or the slam of the dungeon door. Stamovan's comment had reminded her of Alexander's earlier words, his analysis of Tarlsman's place in the conspiracy. The longer she considered the possibility the more convinced she grew—Stamovan had unwittingly revealed the warlock's master plan. After unifying the Western Realm the humans would betray their dwarven allies. In turn, the Weirdling would betray both to his elven cousins. How ironic, she thought, that the dwarf thought he was joking.
* * * * *
Emperor Theodoric of Hurst had no desire to attend a war council, particularly not one at what was damned close to the dead of night. He heard the guards shuffle into place on either side of his door as he entered his private suite and massaged the back of his neck with one hand. A cough from the hallway was stifled quickly; Theodoric guessed the offending soldier had fallen under the harsh gaze of Sirgar. He smiled despite his frustration with Nikkolynda's disappearance and the wizards’ inability to find him.
The thought of losing his friend and most valuable subject gave the Emperor a physical pang as he removed his mantle of office and hung it on a hook in the small atrium. Stepping into his bedchamber, Theodoric unclipped his monocle and dropped it in a satin-lined box on his dressing table. He glanced at the thick rug that covered the majority of the floor and sighed, wishing he had time to kick off his shoes and enjoy the feel of the heavy fabric beneath his feet. Instead, he crossed the bedchamber and pushed open the door to the lavatory. He hesitated there for a moment, considering the door to the balcony and the twilight view of the nature preserve, then sighed again. Fenric and the others would wait for him but Theodoric saw no value in putting them off any longer. He entered the lavatory and shut the door behind him.
He emerged a few minutes later. As he stepped through the doorway, a small hand snaked around his neck and clamped down on his mouth. The Emperor tried to shout but the muffled sound didn't even echo from the cold fireplace. He struggled to no avail against the wiry arms clinging to his body.
“I know who stole the Sandlander grimoire,” whispered a voice next to his ear. “Please stop fighting and I'll release you. I just couldn't have you shout for the guard."
Theodoric fell still immediately. The hand left his mouth and a black-clad figure appeared in front of him, pulling at a pinned hood. The Emperor's eyes widened as he realized that his assailant was a woman, and not a particularly large one at that.
“I'm stronger than I look,” said Kandys.
“You have ten seconds before I bring in the guards.” Theodoric took a step sideways, positioning himself between Kandys and the balcony.
“Hear me out, please, Your Righteousness. I wouldn't have tried this if there were any other way."
“How'd you get in here to begin with? You couldn't possibly get past the men outside, and nobody can climb the outside wall."
“I came in four hours ago,” said Kandys. “Your men guard the stairs to the third story, but leave your quarters alone when you're not here. Slipping past the men at the stairways was tricky, but after that I just had to pick the lock and wait in here for—” She glanced at the ca
ndle mounted on the atrium wall. “—five hours."
Theodoric took a brief inventory of the room, looking from the silver candleholders on the mantle to various opened and closed jewelry boxes on his dressing table, then the portrait of his dead wife. Nothing obvious was missing, though he wasn't going to open the wardrobe and the dressing table drawers while this burglar stood before him. He thought he saw the corners of the woman's mouth twitch as she followed his gaze.
“Out with it, thief. Your time fades."
“My name is Kandys Corlithian. I stole the grimoire from Crag Vysthuk and brought it to Hurst."
“And you wish to confess? Breaking into my quarters is more likely to earn a stiffer penalty than you wanted."
“I was with Alexander, the Huntsman from Addamantia, two nights ago. He discovered that the man who purchased the grimoire used it to bring Jantaru's statues to life. That's how the men at Selmer Ridge were killed, as well as your counselor, bard and general."
Theodoric felt his face flush at the mention of Selmer Ridge. Was the silver mine a secret from anyone in his city? “You've extended your time by just a bit,” he said. “Explain to me why the Huntsman and his liaison would send you to invade my private rooms rather than delivering the information themselves."
“Because they can't,” said Kandys. “Alexander disappeared this morning when he was supposed to meet Adriana, and I looked for her early this evening. The pages can't find her and your wizard, Pellorin, says that she's vanished, too."
“You're friends with Counselor Thornwell, too, then?"
“Not so much, Your Righteousness. She's my sister."
“Counselor Thornwell has no living family. I'm a bit more in touch with my staff than that."
“She won't admit to it, sir, but we are sisters. There's more—Alexander and I found out this morning that a conspiracy exists to goad you into war with Addamantia. That's the source of the assassinations and the giant spider."
“Yes, that's one popular theory,” said Theodoric. He decided the thief wasn't going to bolt and took a seat on the end of his bed, closing the balcony door first just to be sure. “How did you and the Huntsman discover this?"
“We found the invasion plans for Addamantia, Forthaven and the Stronghold when we searched Burrel Tarlsman's warehouse."
“When you—great gods, woman, is there any private residence in Hurst that you haven't invaded?"
“Sir, there's more. It appears that the leader of the conspiracy is your ... he's your—"
“My Prime Wizard?” asked Theodoric. He instantly regretted his loss of control and the sarcastic tone, but his patience was nearly gone. He almost shouted for Sirgar then, but Kandys's next words stopped him cold.
“Your son, sir. Prince Fenric leads the conspiracy."
“Fenric? My son Fenric?"
“Yes, Your Righteousness.” The thief swallowed visibly but she stood with her arms clasped behind her back and met the Emperor's eyes with her own. Theodoric burst into laughter and saw her forehead wrinkle in confusion.
“Just yesterday,” said the Emperor, “Prince Fenric advised a defensive response to the Addamantian provocation. My son, the man you accuse of duping the Empire to war, recommended that we seek a peaceful end to this ... this situation."
“I saw his banner on the invasion plans, Your Righteousness, along with Franklin Draston's. Yours wasn't there."
“I see.” Theodoric stood again. “Perhaps you brought these plans to share with me? Maps, timetables, marching orders?"
“No, sir.” For the first time, the thief looked away from Theodoric. “Alexander had them."
“How convenient.” The Emperor walked to his dressing table and began stripping the jewelry from his fingers, save for the heavy signet ring. “I have an absent Huntsman and a vanished counselor, both suddenly replaced by the thief who, by your account, works for our enemy warlock. The events leading up to this war are a complete sham, to make Hurst appear the aggressor when we march on Addamantia. In addition, my son, a prince of the Empire, intends to do away with me so he can carry the war to the rest of the Western Realm. All this is revealed by a thief who mysteriously appears in my bedchamber in the middle of the night. Motivated, no doubt, by your undying loyalty to the Empire."
“No, sir,” said Kandys. “I'm worried about Alexander and Adriana."
Theodoric attached his monocle to his collar and turned back to Kandys. “Very touching, but I'm afraid not as believable. Your love for a man who's spent little more than a week here and a sister who won't acknowledge you has convinced you to risk death by entering my private chambers? I remain unconvinced."
Kandys started to speak but Theodoric held up a hand to stop her. “Wait,” he said. “Let me give you a more likely scenario. It's not as creative as yours, but I think you'll see its merits. I propose that Baron Alfrid found out about our discovery at Selmer Ridge and fears that Hurst will grow more independent of Addamantian trade. He hired a warlock to kill key personnel in my staff, and the warlock in turn hired you to steal the book from those desert people. Young Alexander was sent here to mislead our investigations, or possibly as a dupe himself. Either way, his efforts have led Counselor Thornwell into danger, may the gods protect her. Now you, with no evidence to back up your claims, appear with crazed accusations against my son, no doubt intended to sow dissension in the Imperial leadership as we march to war."
As he finished speaking Theodoric realized he'd advanced steadily on the woman all the while; she'd backed away from him until she was pressed against the wall next to his bed. Stepping back, he allowed himself a few seconds to calm.
“Your Righteousness, that's not—"
“Enough. I've no more time for this nonsense right now. Sirgar!"
The door flew open at once, and Sirgar crossed the atrium in two great steps, sword ready. His eyes widened in shock as he caught sight of Kandys, but he didn't hesitate. In the blink of an eye he had the thief by the front of her shirt with one hand, the tip of his sword pressed against her throat. He lifted her without realizing it, forcing Kandys to balance on her toes.
“Sir, I don't know how this could've happened,” Sirgar said. “I'll flay the men who guarded this wing today, it's in—"
“Never mind that,” said Theodoric. He stared at Sirgar's broad back, at the lion's-head emblem sewn into the sergeant's tabard. The suspicion voiced by Nikkolynda in the garden surfaced in Theodoric's mind. He half-sat on his dressing table and tried to think through a sudden cacophony of thoughts. It couldn't be true, he thought to himself. Nikkolynda was just naturally distrustful, and the tone of the thief's ploy could be chalked up to coincidence. Still, the possibility nagged at him. Burrel Tarlsman's private agenda he could believe. But ... Fenric?
“Sir?” asked Sirgar. Still pinning the paralyzed Kandys, he glanced over his shoulder.
“Yes,” said Theodoric. He decided abruptly to keep Kandys nearby, in case her story contained some shred of truth. “I want her arrested, but I want her kept where only you know to find her, Sirgar. Can you do that? I gather she's quite an escape artist."
Sirgar thought for a moment. “I can put her in the keep's dungeon, sir. We haven't used it in months—no one'll think to look for her there."
“Perfect,” said Theodoric. “Take her away, then meet me at the War Chamber. Fenric's called an emergency council and I'd like you present."
“Yes, sir."
Kandys walked meekly ahead of Sirgar, who kept his hand clamped around her arm as they left the room. She looked up at Theodoric once as they departed, and the Emperor was struck by the seeming sincerity in her eyes. He shook his head as the door closed and reminded himself that the woman was, after all, a thief. Her sincerity was most likely carried in a pouch and could be donned whenever necessary.
Even so, he paused before leaving for the War Chamber. He opened his wardrobe and reached inside, fishing around behind hanging clothes for the familiar feel of a leather scabbard. Buckling the sword belt made the E
mperor feel at least a bit better. Ready for war, he headed to the council.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Alexander studied the room with the intense scrutiny of a man who knows he may not leave it alive. Stamovan had brought him in through the side door after threading a circuitous path through vacant corridors of the keep. He now sat at the center of one side of the plotting table with his hands bound behind his back. Beside him, Franklin Draston toyed nervously with his hair and stared at Prince Darien, who snored loudly and drooled on the map table's compass while an empty bottle threatened to tumble from his hand. The general wore his sword, Alexander noticed, just as Stamovan still held his mace. The dwarf stood before the larger of the two doors, near the foot of the table.
Alexander turned his attention to the wall hangings and realized instinctively that the room was virtually soundproof. In the empty space between the head of the table and the far wall stood an easel supporting a thin piece of slate. Unlikely that'll be used tonight, he thought. Logistics would probably prove low on the agenda for this meeting. He pulled at the rope around his wrist and examined the map on the War Chamber table, which displayed a considerably different troop deployment than those taken from him by Stamovan and Hafflston. According to this view, Hurst planned on a far more conservative approach to the Addamantian conflict. Forthaven and the Stronghold were devoid of troop counters entirely.
Stamovan opened the door for Fenric to enter, and Alexander caught a glimpse of the four soldiers outside. One wore Fenric's insignia on his chest; Alexander guessed the others would as well. Like Draston, Fenric came to the council armed. A square satchel hung from his belt opposite his sword, bouncing against the leg of his blue velvet trousers. As the prince entered the chamber he looked at the captive Huntsman, then at Draston.
“The dagger?” Fenric asked.
Draston nodded and tossed a small bundle on the map. It knocked over a pair of cavalry counters near the Addamantian wall. Wrapped up in Alexander's belt were the sheath and dagger given to him by Emperor Theodoric.
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