Shadow of the Otherverse (The Last Whisper of the Gods Saga Book 3)

by Berardinelli, James

  “This situation is intolerable,” spat Myselene, sitting on her bed and yanking off her boots. “One damned vote! I’ve half a mind to let you kill a few of Otto’s lackeys if you can’t get to him.” That wouldn’t happen, of course. If a member of the Council of Nobles died, the position would have to be filled before another vote could be taken - a process that could last almost as long as appointing a new king. That was one reason why they couldn’t afford Otto to suffer an accident.

  There was another option. Myselene could seize the throne and disband the council. Greeg had cautioned against this in the strongest possible language. Such a move would almost certainly lead to a civil war and, although Myselene had enough of the army behind her to emerge victorious, it would result in a divided Obis when Justin arrived. So, like so many other possibilities in “ideal” times, that one wasn’t viable. Myselene needed at least one vote and that meant capitulating with Otto.

  “You ain’t got a choice in the matter,” said Sorial, stating the obvious.

  “No, I don’t. And that’s what I hate. They all know this needs to be resolved quickly. Justin’s threat is no longer a distant possibility. The itinerant merchants are leaving. The common people sense something’s up. And the nobles have all read the reports. Otto knows I can’t wait him out so he’s going to use that leverage to press his claim, thereby subordinating the security of the city to his personal ambitions. I think he’s decided that viceroy sounds as nice as king.”

  “Do you think Greeg will be that easy to kill? He doesn’t seem like an easy or willing target.”

  “With his rich allies, Otto has a bottomless money pouch. For the right amount, almost anyone can be bought. Once I’m settled in Vantok, Greeg won’t last a week.”

  “He’s in favor of making Otto chancellor. He’s no idealist. He must know the danger.”

  “He thinks Otto is a weak opportunist and he puts too much faith in the men around him to protect him - which they generally would unless offered several hundred gold. To save Greeg and protect my interests in Obis, we’re going to have to ensure that Otto doesn’t survive Justin’s attack. Death in combat with a proper eulogy about his courage and sacrifice later.”

  “I’ll have more important concerns to occupy my attention during the battle than worrying about whether Otto lives or dies.”

  Myselene smiled. “Don’t worry. Once I’m queen, I’ll have access to a wide array of assassins. Many owed their loyalty directly to Gorton and that will be transferred to me.”

  As Myselene began to undress, Sorial withdrew to his own chamber, a small, adjoining room. He didn’t bother to light the lantern but instead doffed his boots and lay down fully clothed on the bed. At one time in his life, he might have marveled at the luxury of this pallet, but his mind was too full of dark thoughts for him to notice. Something was going to go wrong. He knew it. He just hoped that, when it happened, he’d have time to address it before it gave victory to Justin.

  * * *

  “It’s going to take more than the chancellorship to woo him,” said Greeg.

  “Money?”

  “Some of that, although he’s got enough already. No, he wants greater authority than any past chancellor. A second seat on the council. A full division of the army under his personal command. And probably a few more perks as well. Plus, he’ll want to be able to choose the vice chancellor and have full command of Gorton’s network.”

  Myselene was incredulous. “And that’s all? No nighttime assignations with me thrown in as a sweetener?”

  Greeg shrugged. “I’m sure he wouldn’t object. He’s said to have an insatiable appetite when it comes to variety in his bed.”

  “So, I have to give him whatever he wants?”

  Although the question was rhetorical, Greeg answered anyway. “Mostly. Unless you want to wait. Otto’s coalition won’t hold up forever, especially if you start applying pressure. That’s what would happen during a normal struggle for the crown. Long-term, his only hope would be your death, which he would be assiduously trying to arrange. But with the enemy in Syre enhancing his forces and showing no inclination to stop despite the onset of Winter, we’ll have an army at the gates two weeks into the new year. That doesn’t give us the luxury of waiting out Otto, and he knows it.”

  None of this was surprising but that didn’t prevent Myselene from uttering a few choice expletives before voicing her decision. “Make him an offer. Give him enough to get him interested but no more than you have to and especially avoid military protection; I don’t want my chancellor having a substantial personal army at his command. Then let him know I want to meet him in person to close the negotiations - we can do it here, there, or at the Citadel. This has to happen immediately. I want a Council re-vote the day after tomorrow at the latest and I want to be on the throne by next week. The official coronation ceremony can wait.”

  “But the wedding can’t, at least not if you want my backing. We can have a private ceremony investing you with Obis’ rule in concert with our marriage. Only then will our alliance be formalized.”

  “I’m well aware of what needs to happen between you and me,” snapped Myselene. “Now go bring Otto into the fold.”

  With a stiff bow that spoke more loudly than any words of Greeg’s anger at being treated with such disdain, the general stalked from Myselene’s suite.

  After Greeg’s departure, Myselene indicated that Sorial should institute the anti-eavesdropping magic so they could speak freely. Once that was accomplished, she said, “You know the layout of Otto’s house. Is there anything you can do there that might make him more tractable in negotiations?”

  Sorial considered for a moment, considering and dismissing a number of alternatives. Despite the security deployed by Otto, it likely was possible to kill him by magical means, but not without instituting a bloodbath. And, although that approach would assure Myselene’s eventual confirmation by the Council, it would delay the process since Otto would first have to be replaced. So the objective wasn’t to kill or maim the duke; instead, it was to unsettle him. Sorial knew a means by which that could be accomplished.

  “There’s a way,” said Sorial. “Without harming Duke Otto.”

  “Then do what needs to be done and report back to me once it’s finished. Otto may be my next chancellor, but I won’t have him coming to me in a position of power. And I want him suitably cowed that any aspirations he might have for the throne will at least be temporarily diminished.”

  * * *

  Considering the calamity that had befallen Duke Otto’s home, his bedraggled appearance was understandable. He had been forced to take refuge in the house of one of his fellow nobles until the scourge could be cleansed from his property. No one could understand where all the rats had come from but there was no doubting the impact of their arrival. There were hundreds of them, all suddenly swarming through cracks in the foundation. Otto kept five cats to eliminate the small number of rodents one normally encountered in houses like his, but the felines had quickly become gorged and ended up taking naps with rats scurrying all around them. He had been forced to hire a professional rat-killer who claimed this to be the worst infestation he had ever encountered.

  With the ducal estate not fit for habitation and Otto unwilling to venture into an inn (no matter how upscale), the meeting took place in a bare room in the Citadel with only the principals in attendance: Myselene, Sorial, Greeg, and Otto. The duke’s half-dozen guards were stationed immediately outside the door along with an equal number of protectors for the queen. Greeg, feeling safe and comfortable at this location, didn’t need a special assemblage of guards. If he was threatened, a hundred men could come to his aid within a minute.

  “You look unwell, Duke,” said Myselene, smiling sweetly. “I hope issues with the succession haven’t been impeding your sleep.”

  “My apologies if my appearance isn’t up to my usual standard,” said Otto. “My manse has been infested by a plague of vermin and I have been forced to tempo
rarily relocate.”

  “Rats,” said Sorial, his voice emerging like a low growl from the shadows of his hood. He lowered the timber for theatrical purposes as he recited his prepared lines. “Animals that crawl on the ground. Unsanitary at the best of times and quite unpleasant if hungry. Still, it could be much worse. There are less palatable things dwelling in the deep recesses of the earth. It would be unfortunate if those were to find their way into your house.”

  Otto gaped at Sorial. His pasty skin lost what little color it had retained as he realized that this robed and hooded man, who was always at Myselene’s side, wasn’t just a priest. Myselene continued to smile, her expression one of apparent innocence. Greeg’s features were their usual mask of impassivity.

  “My condolences on the regrettable situation at your house,” said Myselene. “Let’s hope there’s nothing worse forthcoming. Now, shall we proceed to the purpose for which we’ve gathered this morning?”

  “I… Yes, of course, Your Highness.” Otto responded without taking his eyes from Sorial.

  “Don’t stare, Your Grace. He doesn’t like being looked at. That’s why he wears the robes.” On the surface, her tone was playful, but there was a hint of steel in those words.

  “My apologies, Your…” He came up short, not sure what the proper address was.

  “…Magus. It’s understandable you wouldn’t know, Your Grace; it’s been a thousand years since someone has needed to use that honorarium. But it’s my future title, not his, that brings us here. Have you considered the offer submitted by General Greeg? I believe you’ll agree it’s a generous one. Not only does it increase your current status but it establishes you as the head of the continent’s most elaborate intelligence network. Chancellor of Obis - a title that carries great weight all across the continent.”

  The proposal submitted by Greeg to Otto had called for the Duke to be elevated to chancellor following Myselene’s coronation. He would gain an additional vote on the Council of Nobles - one for him in his position as duke and one for him in his new role - and would be given nominal control of Gorton’s network of spies and assassins. What Otto didn’t know is that Myselene only planned to give Otto management of some of her former chancellor’s agents. The best would report directly to her, creating a second network.

  “Duke Otto has a counterproposal, I believe,” said Greeg.

  “Really? Is there something I’ve overlooked? Magical services for vermin removal, perhaps?”

  Otto had his share of character defects but stupidity wasn’t among them. He recognized that he had been outmaneuvered and decided to concede gracefully. “I was hoping for a small protection force, Your Highness. I believe it’s customary for there to be a Chancellery Guard.”

  “Indeed it is, Your Grace. How many men will you require? Will two dozen be enough or do you think you might need as many as two score?”

  Otto let out a sigh of exasperation. “Whatever you think appropriate, Your Highness.”

  “Excellent! Two dozen of my top men will be assigned to you when you assume your new office. Now, can I assume you’ll immediately drop any opposition to my candidacy and instead support my claim to the throne? This is a matter of some urgency since Obis must be united and prepared in the face of a threat from the east.”

  “In anticipation of our reaching a mutually satisfactory agreement, I scheduled a meeting of the Council of Nobles for tomorrow morning. Your approval should be forthcoming after the vote and a public announcement will be made. Although it may take many weeks for a formal coronation to be arranged, you can begin functioning as an active ruler after a short, private ceremony where you’ll be invested with the powers of the throne. Although you won’t officially be allowed to wear the crown or be addressed as ‘Your Majesty’ until after the coronation, you’ll have the full authority of queen in all areas, including directing the army. In short, you’ll be able to act as you see fit to counteract the threat you fear this army represents.”

  Myselene nodded. It was what she wanted to hear, although she didn’t miss the note of skepticism in Otto’s words. Even after Justin had captured four cities, many in Obis didn’t take him seriously. They expected his attack to break against the walls and be swept away by the North’s most battle-hardened legions. They didn’t understand what they would be up against.

  It took less than a full day for the final hurdle to Myselene’s assumption of Obis’ throne to be removed. The vote proceeded as Otto had outlined. She was in her chambers strategizing with Sorial when word arrived in the form of a tersely worded missive.

  After reading it, Myselene turned to her wizard. “Well, that’s it then. In another few days, it will be done. I’ll be married to Greeg, the future King of Obis. My half-brother will be invested as the prelate-in-waiting of Vantok. And Duke Otto will take the place of a better and more worthy person. I’ve surrounded myself with vipers.”

  “You and I both know that the greatest dangers are the immediate ones. Greeg, Rathbone, and Otto ain’t nothing compared to Justin, Ariel, and whatever threat lurks in the Otherverse.”

  Myselene nodded her agreement. “We make the best decisions for the present and damn the future. Because if we don’t accommodate today there may be no tomorrow. I haven’t forgotten what the ghosts told us at Ibitsal. It weighs on my mind every day even though it’s ultimately your burden. How long until Alicia returns?”

  “She’s on her way. By the time she gets here, you’ll be in control but she’ll beat Justin by at least three weeks, possibly more. He’s still in Syre.”

  “And Ariel?”

  Sorial shrugged. “Vanished. I don’t know where but I can’t find her. Admittedly, I haven’t tried hard but she’s certainly not in the immediate vicinity. No doubt she’ll return as the conflict grows closer.”

  The queen, who had been pacing, sat down cross-legged on the bed. She let her guard slip and Sorial caught a rare glimpse of something he rarely saw: the girl wearing the royal mask. It reminded him how very young they all were: him, Alicia, Myselene. Newly minted adults thrust into roles typically reserved for older men and women, there were times when they craved the security others sought from them.

  This was the woman Azarak had fallen in love with - not the cool, hard queen who ordered assassinations and outmaneuvered older and more experienced men in her drive to attain her father’s throne. This was the woman she kept locked away from everyone, who almost never was allowed to make an appearance. It was a mark of her trust in Sorial that she permitted it now. He had seen her naked. There wasn’t an inch of her body he was unfamiliar with. But she had never been as exposed before him as she was at this moment.

  “I know I take you for granted,” she said. Her voice trembled, on the verge of tears. She was releasing weeks of pent-up tension, allowing it to drain away. The main conflict was yet to come but she had won an important battle. “You and Alicia are the closest to friends I have. Everyone else - Azarak, Toranim, Gorton, my father - is gone. Even Nymia, the maid who was as close to me as a sister - I don’t know what happened to her after the chaos of Vantok. I always expected ruling to be hard work filled with difficult choices. But I never reckoned on how lonely it could be.” She placed a hand on her belly, where a bump would become apparent in a few weeks. “I hope I have a more comfortable legacy to hand down to this one.”

  “We have to secure that legacy first. For you, that ends with Justin - one way or the other. For me…” He let the words hang. The sentence didn’t need completion.

  The regal facade snapped back into place, wiping away the softer features. “Well, if I’m to be queen, I’d better start acting like one. I have a chancellor but I need maids and secretaries and a variety of other servants. I need to address the army and the people. So much to do, so little time. And somewhere along the way, I have to marry Greeg. Stay close to me, Sorial. I’m going to need to your support and your unique abilities in the days to come. It’s nice to have a friend but far more useful to have a wizard.”


  * * *

  Dusk was approaching when the three one-man rowboats converged near the center of The Bottomless Lake. It was thus called because, if there was a bottom, it was so deep that only the dead had discovered it. Situated only a few miles north of Obis, this was a popular place for dumping weighted bodies but was shunned by those who lived simple, law-abiding lives. The three floating on it this day were using it for a different purpose: they believed it gave them a degree of privacy from a wizard with an affinity for earth. None of them knew the extent of Sorial’s abilities, but they felt more secure conversing while surrounded by water than they would have anywhere on land.

  A calm had settled over the environs with the onset of darkness. The surface of the lake was as smooth as black glass. Stubby, scraggly evergreens dotted the distant rocky shores. The air was crisp and clear, the intermittent wet snow of the morning having been blown away by midday winds that had since died away. A voice sounded unnaturally loud in this cold silence, so the men spoke in hushed tones, but their whispers seemed to carry. Even if there were no human ears to hear them, the ground heard and that worried them.

  “This is the last time we can afford to meet,” said Greeg. “We have to believe that our planning thus far is good enough.”

  “It’s less a question of our planning than it is of whether your guards do their jobs,” said Otto, who was breathing heavily after exerting himself rowing his boat this far from the shore. “Are you sure of them.”

  “As sure as anyone can be of loyal men,” snapped Greeg, unhappy that someone of Otto’s ilk would call into question the competency of his soldiers. “They’ll do what needs to be done even if it’s bloody and directed against some of their fellows. They understand that Princess Myselene is a traitor to Obis. That’s all they need to know.”