Wrath of the Usurper (The Eoriel Saga Book 2)

by Kal Spriggs

  “What would you do, if not help?” Aerion asked.

  Cederic looked away.

  “He'd find some quiet place and kill himself, most likely,” Aerion's mother said dryly. “Now that he sees the real world isn't like his ivory tower of learning, he's a bit broken up.” The lack of pity in her voice shocked Aerion and he saw Cederic clench his jaw in rage.

  “I already said I would stand by your side,” Cederic said angrily.

  “Good,” Aerion's mother said. “Because if you were to abandon us, I'd be certain to find your spirit and have a good witch torment it for a few centuries.” She pointed at Aerion, “You have lost your crush, but my son's life is in the balance here... our entire world is at balance here. We don't have time for your self-pity, wizard.”

  Cederic's eyes still glowed with anger, but he gave her a sharp nod.

  “Now,” Eleanor said, “since this is going to quickly degenerate into a nasty civil war, how can we salvage the situation... and what should we try to salvage?”

  “I don't know,” Cederic said softly. “Aramer was the one with the contacts. To be honest, most of these lands and their politics are as unfamiliar to me as...”

  “As the feel of a lover's kiss?” Eleanor asked with a smirk.

  Cederic glowered at her, “You made your point, already.”

  Aerion cleared his throat, uncomfortable both with the byplay and the confrontation, “Aramer was trying to play both sides, trying to get some kind of alliance put together... shouldn't we focus on doing some of that ourselves?” His mind went to Amelia Tarken. Her father was the new Grand Duke, or so he had heard. Perhaps the Grand Duke might not be eager to get involved in Masov's problems, but he might at that. His men, after all, had helped with the Ryftguard.

  “Difficult,” Eleanor said. “Everything gets murky when you try to judge the strength or safety of one land against another. Few of the nobility have the ability to look past their own holdings, which is part of why we're in our current predicament.”

  “Still,” she said with a look a Cederic, “You should be able to advise Lady Katarina as you have so far. Encourage her to seek and build alliances. She's probably our best bet, just now.”

  Cederic nodded, though he still didn't look very confident. “What about Lord Hector and Kerrel?”

  Eleanor shrugged, “Hector is the enemy, right now. We tried for a peaceful resolution, but whether it was his orders or not that led to the atrocities at Zielona Gora, he's ultimately the one people will blame. We've got to focus on one thing at a time, else we'll get tied up trying to juggle too many plans at once, that's an issue I've called Aramer on before.”

  “Okay,” Cederic said with a shrug, “I can't disagree with you there. I just feel that our real enemies are manipulating the situation. We should keep our eyes open... Grel was almost certainly the product of sorcery.”

  Aerion shuddered at that. He had shown the wizard Grel's remains and Cederic had ordered them burned afterward as a precaution. Aerion didn't know who had done the work, but he didn't want to meet that enemy or any other of his creations.

  “Of course we have to watch for them,” Aerion's mother said, her voice dry. “They'll do their best to hit us when we're most focused, but we can at least control the situation so that we're strongest when we finally expose ourselves for our real enemies to strike.” There was an edge to her voice, almost as if she looked forward to that event.

  Aerion looked between them, “So, we continue?”

  Cederic shrugged. Eleanor nodded, “What else can we do, after all, but continue?”

  ***

  Commander Kerrel Flamehair

  Ember Castle, the Ducal Seat, Duchy of Masov

  Feast of Idraw, Cycle 1000 Post Sundering

  “You didn't have to abandon your efforts in the north,” Kerrel said as Lord Hector dismounted. He waved her comment away and to her surprise, he came forward to embrace her.

  “I thought I'd lost you,” Hector said, his voice hoarse with emotion. He released her and cleared his throat, as if suddenly aware of all the witnesses. “More importantly, I knew that Darkbit had bungled and that I might well lose the entire south.” He smiled grimly, “I was right about one of those things, it appears.”

  She just gave him a nod. It wouldn't do for her to argue with him in front of his other officers right after his arrival. Besides, he wasn't entirely wrong. Everything south of Ember Castle had risen up against him. Covle Darkbit had lost six entire companies and the remnants of the four that remained would be hard pressed to hold a village much less any of the towns that had risen up as tales spread of the atrocities perpetrated by his forces.

  Part of her regretted forcing Darkbit's withdrawal, for it had allowed him to salvage something out of his failures. Yet she knew that she had saved some innocent lives in the process so she hoped that those weighed enough against Darkbit's continued survival.

  “Let's get in out of the cold,” he said with a slight smile. The skies had been threatening snow for the past week over the castle, though her scouts had reported snow already fell further south in the highlands and the Ryft Peaks were already white with it.

  They paraded through the corridors and Kerrel stole a glance at Hector's face, curious if she would see any signs of nostalgia there. This was the place he had spent much of his childhood, after all. For that matter, this was the place where he had ordered his uncle, aunt, and cousins to be murdered. Yet if he was bothered by ghosts of his past or reminded of a pleasant childhood, he showed no signs. He did, however, lead the way unerringly to the Duke's Seat. The large court had been set up as a conference room, with maps, diagrams, and running estimates of forces, both rebel and loyal.

  Hector paused at the door and looked at the officers who had followed him. “I'll have Commander Flamehair brief me privately, first. We'll have a meeting first thing tomorrow to go over my campaign plans. Until then, you're all dismissed.” His gaze fell on his personal guards. “You may wait outside, this shouldn't take long.”

  He closed the door before anyone could respond and turned to face her, “So,” he said, “now is the time for you to tell me that you warned me this would happen.”

  Kerrel shook her head, “I didn't want to be right. Now that we're in this situation, I want it resolved, and gloating about it doesn't help that process.”

  Hector gave her a crooked smile, “I appreciate that.” His humor disappeared, though, and his face became grave. “Darkbit and Grel, together have put me in quite the predicament... but I'm the one who allowed them to put me there. If we had more time, I'd put Darkbit down, but that would hit the morale of my other mercenaries hard. They don't like Darkbit, but if I show them that failure leads to execution, they'll abandon me in droves or do their best to avoid any fight where they risk themselves at all.” Kerrel could see that he didn't like the idea of letting Covle survive his failures. Still, that hadn't stopped Hector from doing anything else so far as she knew. He did what he thought he had to do. He pursed his lips, “Did we ever find out what happened to Rasev Ironhelm's company?”

  She nodded, “He deserted. He wrote me a letter from Taral. He and his company took Black Peak Pass in a blizzard, and then traveled across the Great Southern Desert to Port Hammer. They took work there, with the locals.” She shrugged, “He sent a voucher with his letter, good for the coin Darkbit had already paid him and his men, minus the time they served.”

  Hector sneered, “Good of him to make good.” After a moment though, he shook his head, “I wish he had just killed Darkbit and been done with it. Ironhelm, at least, was capable.”

  “You think that Darkbit is incompetent?” Kerrel asked neutrally. She still suspected the man of collusion with the enemies she opposed, but suggesting that to Hector without revealing her own allegiances would be tricky.

  “Incompetent, no,” Hector said. “Arrogant, self-centered, and entirely willing to start a war to save his own life, absolutely.” He shook his head, “But while I'm c
ertain he was working his own angle, I think that as long as I use his ambition and survival instinct to keep him in check, I can rely on him.”

  Kerrel grimaced, “If you say so.”

  Hector shrugged, “My preference is to cut his throat and leave him for the rebels to find, a peace offering of sorts, but at this point, I can't afford for my own people to think I'll give them up. I need to show them loyalty, even to the ones who have shown me precious little.” He cocked his head, “Was the news about Grel confirmed?”

  Kerrel hesitated, “Not confirmed.” Lady Katarina's followers had reported that Grel had shown signs of tampering by sorcery, as had a few of his men. While she knew from Jay that it was most likely Grel behind the attack on her, she couldn't exactly bring that forth as evidence. “But I would say it is more likely than not.”

  Hector nodded. “Well, it does explain some of his behavior. He was already a vicious killer when I recruited him for the Longhaven Barony's guard detail. I have to wonder how long that must have been eating at him, gradually making him more and more violent and unpredictable.”

  Kerrel blinked at him in surprise, “You don't think it is possible that someone did it to him more recently? I mean, he vanished for over two months, just this year.”

  Hector shrugged and looked uncomfortable. “It is possible.” He turned and looked down at the map his face thoughtful, “I've considered it. The timing of his disappearance, some of his erratic behavior such as the destruction of Watkowa Village... but I'm most interested in the obvious sources of sorcery. There is one nation in all of Eoria that allows such horrors unrestricted and Grel worked with their agents before, on one specific occasion.”

  “You think the Vendakar did it to him... as what?” Kerrel asked.

  Hector shrugged, “Grel was my man attached to the assassination of Duke Peter and his family. It isn't too difficult to believe that the Vendakar either modified him then, against his will, or that they did so for payment or as a favor. They've been known to sell such 'improvements' before.”

  Kerrel nodded, though she wasn't certain about his assumption. There were rumors that other powers used sorcery. The Masters of Darkstar for one. Yet this area was one in which she didn't want to argue with Hector. If she were too obstinate she might slip up and reveal information that she shouldn't know, which in turn, might turn his suspicions upon her motivations.

  “Since they've already shown their animosity to me, it isn't hard to believe that they might have influenced him in some way to cause me problems. Combined with Darkbit's ambition, I think that was enough to tip things the way they've gone.” He sighed and Kerrel saw that he seemed more than a little frustrated. “Since I can't throw Darkbit to the wolves, I'm going to give him a job that I can't trust to anyone else.”

  “Oh?” Kerrel asked. From his tone, she wasn't certain she was going to like what he had to say.

  “In order to prevent weakening Masov, I'm going to have to fight this campaign as quickly as possible. I need to win before the Armen come back south in the late spring. The best way to do that is to both position my forces and ready them to move as soon as I can... and to make certain my enemy is not ready to move or defend themselves. My forces and those of Katarina will not be ready before spring, the snow has already begun to fall and it is too easy to lose an army to that. So I'm going to have Covle Darkbit lead the winter campaign, to weaken them and give me a better foot to start on.”

  Kerrel's eyes narrowed. What he casually mentioned would be far more complicated than he'd implied. The southern highlands were already seeing heavy snow fall even in late fall a certain sign that the winter would be bitter and long. As for what Covle Darkbit would be doing... “You're suggesting destroying food, burning shelter?” An army that couldn't feed itself would starve and men without good shelter over Eoria's six month winters would die of exposure for certain.

  Hector nodded, “It is distasteful, but it's our best option, I'm afraid.”

  Kerrel felt a shiver go over her, “You won't just be harming the rebels, the people supporting them will starve and freeze too.” She watched Hector with narrow eyes.

  “I'll order Darkbit to limit his attacks to military targets,” Hector said. “But I'm not naive enough to think that he'll be able to fully differentiate.” He shrugged, “It is distasteful, especially because they're my people. I'm responsible for their survival and protection... but they are supporting the enemy.”

  “Your cousin,” Kerrel said neutrally, “The rightful heir.”

  Hector grimaced, “Yes, and also no.” He pursed his lips in thought and Kerrel could tell that he had spent a lot of time thinking about this subject, especially with how carefully he chose his words, “Duke Peter selected his younger child over his elder. It is something that I've thought about in detail since I took up the Ducal Blade, especially since my mother confirmed that it is Katarina.” He looked up, “I've come to suspect that Duke Peter saw her as unfit to rule. Either because she was mentally unsound, unstable or deficient in some way...”

  “I've already told you,” Kerrel said, “She's no puppet, she's smart and capable enough to do manage all this herself.” She had argued that with him and though he seemed to accept it, she could tell he still had reservations over that. Certainly, she knew, it was hard to believe that the woman had accomplished so much with so little. Still, having seen her in action and met her advisers, Kerrel had no further doubts.

  Hector nodded, though she still saw reservations on his face “... or else he had doubts about her parentage.”

  Kerrel's eyes went wide at that, “You think Duke Peter suspected his wife was unfaithful?”

  Hector shrugged, “They were not close, a fact that was quietly spoken of at court. It is not hard to suspect that Katarina might be the product of an affair. Covle Darkbit was her armsman until he demanded her hand. It would be like the man to use some indiscretion as blackmail leverage to attempt to get his way, which might well be why he was exiled. He wouldn't tell me, of course, since he wants Katarina's hand in order to rise to the position of Duke. And why else, do you think, would Duke Peter have chosen his second child?” Hector snorted, “For that matter, everyone at Ember Castle, to include me, knew that he didn't get along with Katarina, and that he could barely stand the sight of her.”

  Kerrel frowned in thought, “It isn't rare for noblemen to prefer male heirs, especially here in Masov, from what I've seen. For that matter, if she reminded him of her mother, and from what I understand she resembles her quite closely, then whatever their personal disagreement it might well have reminded Peter of it when he saw her.” She felt uncomfortable at the thought that Katarina, who stood against Darkbit's injustices might well be illegitimate.

  “Oh, there could be many reasons,” Hector gave a wave in dismissal. “And it isn't as if I'm going to take these statements public. Half the common folk won't care, the other half wouldn't believe. It's too complicated a theory and there's no evidence backing it.” He shrugged, “But it's one more reason to prevent her success. For if she isn't legitimate, then I'm the closest heir to Duke Peter, ironic as that might be. Which would be why the Ducal Blade recognized my authority.”

  “That's what you're going on?” Kerrel asked. “I didn't think you were that sentimental.”

  Hector snorted, “I'm not. I still don't think anyone else is capable of holding together my alliances between the locals of the Lonely Isle, balancing the mercenary companies and defeating the Armen. Certainly I don't think that would be Katarina's number one priority. We could lose all my gains in only a few months.” Hector seemed frustrated by that, more than anything Kerrel saw. He got up to pace and his gestures became sharp and agitated. “I've taken Arkavan, which has been an Armen port since the Sundering. Even now, Commander Nasrat has his people fortifying it and making it ready to survive the winter. The loot I've recovered from the Armen will pay for enough mercenaries to hold the Lonely Isle and also for the campaign here.” He stopped pacing and lo
oked at Kerrel, “For the first time in centuries Masov is at the point of no longer needing to fear constant raids from the Armen. Given another five cycles, I can clear out many of the Norics in the mountains and we can live in peace for the first time in over a thousand cycles.” The tone in his voice was a mix of frustration and hope. “And those bastards in the south are too selfish to look past some minor inconveniences to see it.”

  “Minor inconveniences?” Kerrel asked incredulously. The destruction of villages, the atrocities by Grel, and Covle Darkbit's orders to his other mercenaries went well beyond that.

  He waved a hand and took a seat, “Oh, I know that it has become a mess lately, but it would never have escalated to that point without Katarina pushing for reconciliation. For that matter, if the southern nobility didn't cling so tightly to their autonomy and power, the economy here in the south would be better and trade would flow more easily.”

  Kerrel's eyes narrowed, “You're putting a lot on them.”

  Hector snorted, “I'm far from a perfect person, Kerrel. I know that I've done terrible things, but I do them to build a better world. A world where people can earn their livelihoods without worry of raiders, a world where civilization can flourish...” His gaze went distant, “... a world where a husband need not bury his murdered wife.” His dark eyes met those of Kerrel, “That is what I fight for and while I know that I've done horrible things, I'd do them and more again, in order to build that better day.”

  Kerrel nodded, for she understood his reasoning... even if she didn't like or even accept his methods. She couldn't help a thought for Katarina and her people, though. They fought for the same reasons, she felt, save that to them, Hector had become the enemy, not just the Armen. There had to be some way to mend this, yet it all seemed to have grown beyond her. How can mere mortals try to fix that which has gone beyond our control?