by Kal Spriggs
Much as I might do so, he thought, should the alliance between us become a liability.
“Well,” Hector said, “That's an interesting set of theories. However, you've little to back it up, that I can tell. More, to say you'll offer me free access to the Iron Wizards is one thing, but you don't have access to them yourself, just now.”
She gave him a pained smile, “We don't have full access to them, but we do have some. Might I have my servants bring you a gift?”
Hector waved a hand and she called out. A moment later, four men carried in a crate and set it down beside her. Hector waited as they pulled out the nails and lifted the lid. He blinked at the device inside, though, an odd mix of metal, glass, and crystal, linked together in a confusing form. “This, Lord Hector, is what they call Wizard's Shot.”
“What does it do?” Hector asked, intrigued. He had heard of the casters that the Iron Wizards crafted, and even seen some of their hand casters in action, often sold second-hand by either pirates or bandits who had acquired some in clashes with the Boir Army or Navy.
“It is similar, in function, to one of our heavy casters, but much nastier in effect,” she said as her fingers stroked the weapon. There was something perverse about the look on her face, as if she reveled in the potential destruction held in the crate. “Each of these takes a year or more of work by a master Iron Wizard, and far more energy than you might expect. But this one is a gift, to you.”
“What exactly am I supposed to do with it?” Hector asked, his eyes narrow in suspicion.
“Well, it is only good for a single use, I'm afraid,” she said with a slight pout. “But that shot would destroy any target... be it Noric demon, Armen spirits, or even a Boir ironclad warship... how interesting, yes?”
She had as much as suggested he use it against the Grand Duke, which automatically made him want to refuse the 'gift' and tell her just where she could put it. No, he thought, she seems like the type of girl who would enjoy that. Still, he could probably find use for it. “You can show my people how to use it?”
She nodded, “Of course. I have an apprentice of the Iron Wizards with me who can train anyone of even marginal intelligence how to activate it, from there it is merely a process of aiming and firing.” She waved a hand and the servants put the lid back on and began to carry it out. “I've also brought a hundred long casters and ten heavy casters as further show of goodwill. We have begun to build more weapons at Freeport and soon we could supply more, much more.”
Hector cocked his head at her, “Why the generosity? I could easily take these weapons and give you nothing in return.” For that matter, he would probably do so. He didn't like this woman, she seemed far too pleased with herself, far too corruptible, and her body language as much as suggested that given any invitation she would hop into bed with him to seal the deal. If her husband sent her here as his envoy, Hector thought, then he's probably just as bad or worse.
“Well,” Lady Lindsee shook her head sadly, “we just feel so bad about how Grand Duke Tarken has already treated you. I mean, what little recompense we can offer is still not enough for what he's taken away from you.” Her tone, Hector noted, was one part sympathy, one part gloating.
“What exactly,” Hector growled, “is it that you are talking about?” He hated games like this and he ground his teeth as she looked at him in false surprise.
“Oh, you didn't know?” she asked, “Well, my husband has a loyal servant on the Grand Duke's Council... and he was told that the plan to seize the Ryftguard came from Grand Duke Tarken, himself. In fact,” she leaned in to whisper, “I heard that it was his sailors who sailed the ships into the harbor during the Ryft-tide.”
Hector's face went pale with shock. Those bastards, he thought, those back-stabbing, double-dealing, ancestors-damned bastards. If what she said was true, then Grand Duke Tarken had cost him his fortress in the south, even as they made plans to accept his alliance. At best, it meant he couldn't trust anything they said, at worst, he could expect a similar betrayal as soon as it suited them.
Lady Lindsee continued speaking, almost as if she hadn't noticed “I mean, I know you're only allied against the Armen here in the north,” she said lightly, “but who stabs their ally in the back while they're fighting enemies to their front?”
***
Lady Lindsee Hennings
“Tell me,” a soft voice said from the shadows of her tent, “do you think it entirely wise giving Hector access to such weapons?”
Lindsee rolled over out of her bed and had her hand caster aimed at the source of the voice before the words entirely penetrated her half-asleep brain. She blinked at the cloaked and hooded figure for a moment and then her eyes narrowed, “Xavien?” she hissed with disbelief.
“Yes, my dear aunt,” he bowed and she could hear the venomous sarcasm in his voice. “It is I, your favorite nephew.” He shrugged, “Well... your only nephew now.”
“Yes,” she said, “You would still be my favorite.” She stood, but she didn't lower her hand caster, she knew just how dangerous Xavien could be. For that matter, she knew he could probably protect himself from it handily enough, but it was best not to let her guard down with him, especially since she still wasn't entirely certain of his loyalties. And I don't love him the way I did his mother, she thought.
“But that doesn't answer the question,” Xavien said with a smirk, “That was quite the generous gift to Lord Hector. I can hardly believe it, in some ways, especially given your own limited access to the Iron Wizards.” His pale face and dark eyes showed malice, though whether it was towards her or her husband she couldn't guess. Always so damned hard to read, she thought, half of why I told his mother he should have been drowned at birth.
She grimaced as she thought about what he had said, though. She had told her husband to move more quickly, but he had been far too obsessed with rooting out 'spies' and eliminating potential trouble-makers in the ranks of the Southern Fleet and in the garrison at Freeport. He had also felt confident enough that the Council would approve him, to the point that he had even resisted sending Captain Shook to tell them the penalties for those who might defy him. His hesitation had allowed the hated Christoffer Tarken to take everything from them... as he had taken so much from her before.
“We have moved some of the more talented Iron Wizards to Freeport in secret. Offers of freedom to pursue some of the experiments deemed too dangerous by Grand Duke Becket and their own Master Wizards have made several of them sympathetic to our cause,” she said, knowing full well that Xavien could learn that much easily enough with his connections to their ranks. “While they don't have the volume of the entire order of Iron Wizards, they do have the training to craft the best of their weapons and we have the Southern Fleet's stockpile to draw upon as well.”
“Yes,” Xavien said, “But aren't you concerned that Lord Hector would resist your mental compulsion to use it on your enemies... that he might use it elsewhere or eventually even against your forces?”
She frowned at that. She had found the man strongly resistant to her charms. Granted, she wasn't as talented in that area as her late sister, but she knew she could bend most men given enough time. The fact that Xavien suggested he knew how resistant Hector was in turn suggested that he had tried before. She spoke absently as she considered that angle for a moment, “We've taken precautions, the weapons will not work against select targets. We have some trinkets that we can put aboard ships or within regiments to prevent the weapons from firing.”
“Clever,” Xavien said, “And good to know. I don't suppose I might have one of those trinkets?”
“What, so you can give them to your Armen minions?” She shook her head, “I don't think so. Let them die in droves, it's not like there aren't plenty more where those savages come from.”
Xavien shrugged, “True enough, though hardly kind. I did, after all, hold up my end of the bargain... I'm afraid it is you and your allies who have failed to bring a proper close this fight.”
>
“You didn't kill your father,” she said, her voice venomous. “And I told you that was essential to the overall plan.” She still couldn't believe how he had bungled that part. Whatever distractions he had, both in the Eastwood and then at whatever happened at Southwatch, they had drawn his attention away from the crucial part. “My mistress is most displeased with you for that.”
Xavien snorted, “If you think I fear her, then you're sadly mistaken. As for my father, well, he proved more resilient than I expected.” Xavien shrugged, “In any case, I'll take care of him, in my own way. I will break him and he will die in despair... for mother.”
Lindsee nodded at that and felt tears fill her eyes as she thought of her dead sister. Even now, long after she was only a memory, she missed the feel of her sister's skin, the warmth of her body. For a moment, she lost herself in the sensations.
She snapped back to the present as Xavien continued, “I doubt you'll convince Hector to attack him, but who knows, maybe you will. Certainly I'd appreciate the irony after how your other allies betrayed him not long ago. Tell me, how did your mistress reward them for their failures?”
Lindsee looked away at that. The rumors about what had befallen the nobles of House Rajuputar and House Rajdahar involved in that particular failure were quite grisly. She planned, quite reasonably, to take her own life if she ever suffered as spectacular a failure as they had, rather than face a similar punishment. She looked up and met his gaze, “What they suffered is better than what will happen to you if you continue to flirt with failure, nephew.”
He shrugged, “True enough.” He didn't seem fazed by the threat.
“Well, my dear aunt,” Xavien said, “I'm afraid I'll need to depart, else someone might assume you've a male visitor. We wouldn't want your,” he coughed, “reputation so besmirched, now would we?” Before she could respond, he seemed to fade back into the shadows, his pale face ghost-like and then gone.
She had to suppress a slight shiver at that. Lindsee could see the runic wards remained undisturbed where she had laid them out, the carefully embroidered Vendakar rugs arranged just so. She knew he'd grown more powerful, but he had slipped through her defenses without damaging them. That in turn meant that his master had instructed him in levels of wizardry far beyond what her mistress had given her, and in only a short time as well. He's dangerous, she thought, and our alliance, such as it is, will only last so long... best to take precautions now. If there was one thing that her father had taught her and her sister, it was that blood could only be trusted so far.
***
Grand Duke Christoffer Tarken
Aboard the Ubelfurst, Near the Lonely Isle
15th of Namak, Cycle 1000 Post Sundering
“My lord,” Siara said, “Lord Hector has arrived, he'll be down in a few moments.”
“Very good, thank you,” Christoffer said as he looked up from his reports. As yet, the alliance with the volatile Duke of Masov had yielded surprisingly good results. They had destroyed over forty of the Armen sloops and rescued nearly three hundred of their slaves. Not that any of those poor bastards will ever be the same, he thought absently. The tortures and horrors that they had experienced had left many of them as little more than broken shells.
He still wasn't certain why Lord Hector wanted to meet with him. The Usurper Duke had sent a terse message a few days earlier, via the signifier that Christoffer had given him upon their first link up. Until now, Lord Hector hadn't seemed interested in meeting face to face and Christoffer had to wonder what had changed.
As the door came open and Lord Hector stormed in, Christoffer realized that it was nothing good. Behind him, four of his guards followed, making his already cramped quarters seem pathetically tiny. Hector glowered at him, his face drawn in anger, “You back-stabbing bastard! Did you think I wouldn't hear about it?”
“I'm sorry, what?” Christoffer asked as he stood up. He saw Gervais and the other armsman tense, ready to intervene but he waved his hand at them. That would be an unfortunate end for our alliance, the pair of us murdering each other, he thought absently.
“Ryftguard,” Lord Hector snarled through gritted teeth, “I'm talking about Ryftguard. Did you think I wouldn't find out eventually? Hell, apparently your enemies know about it, Lord Hennings' envoy practically gloated about it as she told me.”
Christoffer sighed, “I never thought it would stay a secret.” And if Hennings knows, Christoffer thought, that means we either have spies on the Council or with access to the Council. He sat back and gestured at Lord Hector to take a seat, “Is it too much to ask that we discuss this civilly?” He saw Lord Hector's jaw muscles stand out as he clenched his teeth, but the other man gave him a savage nod and took a seat. “Now, I will preface this by stating, openly, and for the record: I did not want this alliance.”
Lord Hector leaned back at that, “Well, to be honest, neither did I.”
Christoffer snorted at that, “I was talked into it by my advisers, I felt that accepting your offer of alliance after our assistance to Lady Katarina in return for her assistance in defeating an Armen force operating around the Ryft would be disingenuous.”
Lord Hector's eyes narrowed, “So there was an Armen force at Southwatch?”
Christoffer sat back, uncertain how much he could say without betraying either Lady Katarina or giving away too much of his own involvement. Finally, he shrugged, “There was. I'd estimate around five thousand Armen and Norics, who had a blockade on the Ryft, initially, and then had started to move inland, where they ran into Lady Katarina's forces at Southwatch.” He hesitated a moment, uncertain whether to reveal Xavien's role and then decided to state what had probably already been reported by rumor rather than make things more complicated, “There was a wizard there, who seemed to be in charge, though I understand that the spirit of Southwatch chased him off.”
Lord Hector frowned at that, “It's a similar enough story to what my emissaries to Lady Katarina reported, and now some of the details of how she defeated them make a bit more sense.” He looked up, “Has your alliance with her ended?”
Christoffer nodded, “Under the agreement that she prevent military traffic through the Ryftguard, which has cut Lord Hennings off from Boir and allowed us to focus our attention on the Armen as they withdraw.”
He saw Lord Hector sit back, a look of calculation in his eyes, “You know, this would be grounds for me to break off our current alliance.”
“It could be,” Christoffer said. “But I think we'd be throwing away a great deal of potential good if we did so.” He pursed his lips, “I would imagine that Lord Hennings made some offer of alliance to you?”
“He did,” Lord Hector said.
“I'm... not prepared to do the same,” Christoffer admitted. “Not while you have the current unrest in the south, especially not since we could be pulled into that.”
Hector snorted at that, “You've already been pulled in with your attack on the Ryftguard, whether your men were playing taxi or storming the ramparts yourselves.” He shook his head, “But I understand your meaning. Bad enough that your Southern Fleet is under control of a renegade noble, but if you were pulled into my own little insurrection it might well cause your Duchy to come apart.” He leaned forward in his chair, “So where does that leave us?”
“Finish this out,” Christoffer said reasonably. “It is in both our best interests to hurt the Semat Armen as badly as we can before they withdraw to safety. Better, if we can take Arkavar, you will have secured their best port for yourself and I can recapture a few more of my ships and captured people.” He saw Hector nod slowly at that, his dark eyes deep in thought.
“That makes sense... but no more lies, no more secrets,” Hector said sharply.
“Agreed,” Christoffer nodded. He almost told the other man, then, about Xavien, but then he decided against it. Xavien was his own burden to bear and it was unlikely that his son had any part to play in this. More, telling Hector of Xavien would give the man a we
apon to use against him and all of Boir. It would be easy enough to suggest that Boir had brought the attack on itself or even that Christoffer had arranged it somehow through his son. No, Christoffer thought, best to keep that, at least, secret.
“Very well,” Lord Hector nodded. He looked over his shoulder at his guards and one of them passed him a roll of parchment, “This is what we have planned for hitting the remaining Armen raid camps, along with a draft of the plan for how I think we could take Arkavar.”
Christoffer leaned forward as Hector unrolled the map and began to lay out attack plans. This man is talented, capable, and dangerous, he thought, it is too bad that he's so damned unpredictable. He had the feeling that Lord Hector was the type of man who saw what needed to be done and did it, but by his own internal logic rather than the point of view of others around him. Listening to him lay out the plans, it almost seemed like the man had no personal ambition, which seemed counter to what Christoffer had expected, yet it made a certain perverse sort of sense.
Lord Hector was the type of man who seized power because he didn't trust anyone else with it. That, in itself, was the most terrifying thing about him, Christoffer decided.
***
Siara Pall
Siara clung to Christoffer as they cuddled in his narrow bed. It was not, remotely, what someone might consider comfortable. The bed was narrow and hard, little softer than the straw pallet she had in her cell back at the Citadel. There was no room for them to move and she was forced to lay atop of him, her body pressed against his.
But she was content, more than content, really. She felt whole, for the first time in her life. “Do you trust him, my Lord?” She asked quietly.