Arasemis says we must go sooner than planned because of the war. We received news of the Rugen invasion he predicted and want to make the most of this opportunity. I cannot wait to begin.
79. ARTHAN
On the Road to Eglamour, Wallevet Ministry
Bloomfade, 3034
Arthan was frustrated. Livonier had insisted not only that he ride in his armored carriage but that a whole brigade of the Delavon Army escort him. With the deaths of Bardil, Bellumet, and others, Arthan found it hard to argue against the danger, and Livonier was unwilling to take any chances. Arthan knew his protector was right, but the arrangement slowed his journey. He had received a few short letters from Serdot while he was away from the capital, but he still felt blind and deaf without his spymaster nearby. He hoped Serdot had made more progress than he dared to describe in his letters. Serdot did not trust even his own handpicked messengers enough to include much detail.
The long time alone in the carriage gave Arthan lots of time to think. He hoped he was doing the right thing in recalling Rowan from his wardship under Lord Asteroth. The Alpenon borderlands were becoming dangerous, and Rowan would have Medoff and Alfrem to guide his leadership of Delavon while Arthan was in Eglamour.
Arthan wondered how long he would be away. He wondered whether Meriam would still wait for him if he were gone longer than they’d planned. He was not sure what he would do if she did not. He had complete confidence in her ability to supervise the rebuilding of the warcastles for Delavon’s defense. He was less certain in his own ability to give her what she wanted, despite his own desire to be with her.
“What now?” Arthan muttered aloud as the carriage came to a stop. He leaned out the window for a look.
Livonier was spurring his horse forward. Arthan stepped out of the carriage to stretch his legs. He still wished to be on his own horse but knew what was expected of lord ministers. He looked up and down the convoy line. Most of the three thousand men of the brigade followed behind his carriage. Two companies scouted ahead for signs of danger and to clear the road of traffic. Arthan was satisfied with Livonier’s tactics; he simply wanted to move faster.
Arthan looked forward again, hoping to see the two companies moving again. Soon they were, but slowly. Then he spotted Livonier riding back.
“My apologies, my lord. A merchant wagon was not eager to make way for us.”
“A wagoner?” Arthan asked with a smile. “Our brigade halted by a wagon?”
“The merchant owner claimed to be the brother of Lord Reimvick,” Livonier said. “By the name of Aratsemis, or something like that.”
“Where is he?”
“Just up ahead, on the side of the road.”
“I want to meet him,” Arthan said. “Forward!” he called up to the carriage driver before ducking back inside. He waited at the window, watching until the covered wagon came into view. Livonier was already waiting with the wagon.
“Greetings, Arasemis,” Arthan said as he stepped out. “My apologies for my large convoy. I’m afraid recent events have made it necessary in the eyes of my protectors.”
“Think nothing of it,” Arasemis replied. The big red-bearded man smiled warmly.
“And my condolences for your brother. Raymond was a good man.”
“And mine for Maillard and your brother,” Arasemis said. “I’ve heard about the attempts on your life,” he continued. “Any chance you’ve bagged the scoundrels?”
Arthan thought it curious that such a friendly-looking brother of Lord Reimvick’s would be a hermit. Then Arthan noticed his missing arm and reasoned that was the cause of his self-imposed isolation. Yet Arthan did not detect any shyness in his eyes—rather an unexpected eagerness.
“Not yet,” Arthan said, wishing he could say the opposite. “But my duty takes me to Eglamour nonetheless. What brings you on the road?”
“This wagon of fine old wine,” Arasemis said. “I spend my days tending the aging barrels. A few are a gift for my brother Edmond and the rest I’ll sell in the Eglamour wine market.”
Arthan thought his story peculiar. “It must be fine indeed to risk the long road and not trust an able merchant to deliver it for you.” Arthan eyed Arasemis’s companions, a young blond driver and a pale-faced woman who joined them on the bench. They were well armed to be servants and too few to be a proper guard.
“Only the best wines are aged in the cellars of Thorendor,” Arasemis said. “I have old wines—some might say of ancient technique—that are sharp for but a moment, then quiet bliss forever after.”
“Sounds…unique,” Arthan said.
“May I offer you a barrel?” Arasemis said. “A gift to celebrate your new lord ministership.”
“No, I must press on with my journey, but thank you.”
“I insist, and you may have your pick,” Arasemis said, standing from the bench and throwing back part of the canvas.
Arthan could see the wagon was full of neatly stacked barrels and kegs. He noticed Arasemis’s movements startled the blond man. Arthan looked at the barrels again.
“Regrettably, I must press onward. But perhaps I will share a cup of your brother’s gift in the capital. May I offer you the protection of my convoy? Many bandits have taken to the roads of Toulon, and they’ll undoubtedly treasure your wine. You have need of more guards by my count.”
“I will not be the cause of any delays for you, Lord Valient,” Arasemis said. “And I do not fear the banditry. I look forward to seeing you again at the king’s court.”
“As do I. Godspeed.”
“Farewell.”
Arthan returned to his carriage and watched the peculiar man and his companions pass behind. Something about Arasemis turned his stomach. Perhaps it was his posture with a missing arm, or his formal and insincere way of speaking. Arthan could not put his finger on it.
And there was something odd about his companions as well, especially the behavior of the blond man. The trio seemed out of place, even in their home realm of Wallevet. And the transport of old fine wine when it was nearly Midsummer was odd.
Arthan made a mental note to ask Serdot about Arasemis again. Then he turned his thoughts to Eglamour.
80. THEUDAMER
Heingartmer, Ward of Havelbern
Bloomfade, 3034
“I don’t care about the gold or Geras’s head,” Theudamer said. “This wasn’t how I envisioned attacking Donovan, but Graf was right to take the army across the river in response to Asteroth’s trickery.”
“Graf’s advance has already slowed,” General Algus said. “I wish you had sent me, instead of the warden.”
“Graf is not merely a warden but a general in his own right now,” Theudamer said. “Besides, I want you here to coordinate Graf’s advance with General Valk’s push into Gadolin. And later the advances into Toulon, Austveeden, and Nore as well. I plan to join Graf in Durgensdil while you organize our reinforcements and supply trains from here.”
“It will be my honor, Your Majesty,” Algus said. “But you know I prefer to fight at the front.”
“You’re too old now, Algus, like Wardenlord Herzol here,” Theudamer said. “When I go to lead the armies I cannot leave this pacifist here by himself. So the two old white-haired men will stay here in my stead.”
“I wish to accompany you at the front,” Herzol said.
“No, you’ll stay, old friend. Someone must balance Algus. In youth this general plowed through any enemy. In old age he defeats Death daily. But Meliamour, you will travel with me.”
“As you wish.”
“Tell me, are the new Wosmoks ready? The time for training is over.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Meliamour said. “I’ve already sent half to accompany Valk’s army in Gadolin and the other half will join Graf’s.”
“Excellent. Any word from Vesamune?”
“Nothing of high importance. The ambassador is still being held captive at her Eglamour residence. They are
letting her send and receive letters, but the Donovards are reading her correspondence.”
“Have no fear for her. The Avaleaus would be fools to murder my own niece, even now. Cutting the head off a ransomed rebel is one thing. Killing an emperor’s blood is another.”
“I’m not so certain,” Meliamour said. “Duke Brugarn is vile. Wredegar is with her, though—perhaps he’ll manage to help her escape.”
“That is my hope,” Theudamer said. “I do not want the Avaleaus using her as a hostage. But tell her to keep in touch with Lord Valient, in case he will still be of use to us. Keep me apprised of her situation.”
“I will, Your Majesty.”
“Algus, ensure my army is ready. I want to be on the march within three days. Graf will need reinforcements soon.”
Algus nodded. “May you return victorious, Your Majesty.”
“May you return alive and the differences between our people and theirs finally settled,” Herzol said.
“I leave Heingartmer in your able hands, Algus and Herzol,” Theudamer said. “But on imperial matters Empress Evorelune will be my voice while I am at war. She will lean on the wisdom of you both. Remember that she is with child and will delegate much to you. When my child is born you will notify me at once. Farewell.”
81. MILISEND
Eglamour Palace, Toulon Ministry
Bloomfade, 3034
“I’m sorry, Princess,” Tronchet said. “I’m no longer able to delay his transfer to Ralmogard. They will be collecting Regaume next week at the latest.”
Milisend kept calm by staring at the floor and breathing deeply.
“There is nothing I can do,” he said.
“May I see him?” she asked.
“Of course.”
Milisend followed Tronchet up into the prison tower. There was so much she wanted to tell Regaume, yet she mainly yearned to hear his voice. The wrenching creak of his cell door was a welcome sound to her ears.
“My love,” Regaume said, his face brightening as she entered. He shifted his shackles to stand.
She embraced him and did not let go until Tronchet excused himself, pulling the door closed behind him.
“How are you?” she asked. “Are you fed enough? I will have Rosellen bring something.”
“Well enough,” he said. “It’s wonderful to see you, Mili.”
“Tronchet says you will be transferred into the custody of the Ralmogard magistrate next week. Tell me what to do. I can smuggle anything into this cell or I can take the keys.”
Regaume sat on his flimsy bed and stretched his legs with a grunt. The locks on his ankles silenced Milisend. They were large iron spheres missing a square bit on the inner sides.
“Double-hulled foot bearings,” Regaume said. “They put them on me the other day. Impossible to pick the inner locks without the fittings that Tronchet keeps. So if you stole his keys they would be useless without the square fittings.”
“Then I’ll steal the fittings,” she said.
“You’d never smuggle them in,” he said. “They are heavy and bulky by design.”
Milisend collapsed into his arms. “I must do something, let me do something,” she murmured. “I walk the halls of the palace thinking only of you and escape. I asked Lord Valient’s man, Serdot, for help. He shrugged me off, but I will petition Valient directly.”
“You are a princess of the House of Avaleau,” Regaume said. “Yet the lord minister will not make time to see you?”
“My father’s royal line weakens by the day, replaced by Brugarn’s influence. A war has begun, Regaume. Open war in Alpenon and Gadolin.”
“War?”
“I’m afraid, Regaume. Father is locked away in his tower, downtrodden and endlessly brooding. Brugarn doesn’t even let Mother see him. Not that she could. The queen lies in bed all day in a popaver stupor now. I have my sisters to commiserate with, since Henrey remains in the capital. But soon he’ll take Avalane back to their home in Elmbrel, and I’ll be alone…”
“Be brave, Mili. You are stronghearted, more than you give yourself credit for. These dark days will not last.”
“You sound so certain.”
He took her soft face in his gentle hands, his eyes shining bright and fearless. “You must be strong, Mili. Think of my travel to Ralmogard. Tronchet will demand they chain me with their own shackles so that he may keep these costly ones here. You know I’ll find a way to escape on the road or in Ralmogard, and not for the first time. I’ll not die on the gallows like my unfortunate fellows. I’ll come back for you, Thimblegloves, and we’ll leave this place together.”
“Promise me, Regaume.”
“I promise, Mili. I will come back for you.”
82. FETZER
On the Road to Eglamour, Wallevet Ministry
Bloomfade, 3034
“But what possessed you to offer Arthan a wine barrel, and of his choosing?”
“Calm yourself, Fetzer.” Arasemis paused to cough. “I knew he wouldn’t accept any wine, and we needed to appear legitimate.”
Fetzer stared at Arasemis.
“Let it be, Fetzer,” Juhl said. “The master knows what risks to take.”
“No one can accuse me of fearing risk,” Fetzer said, cutting his eyes at her. Juhl was irritating him more lately. His private advances toward her over the past few weeks were consistently deflected. He began to dislike her outright but still hoped she would be drawn to his ascendancy.
“Fetzer, did you see the way Arthan eyed us?” Arasemis asked. “Especially when you carelessly revealed your surprise when I offered a barrel to him? Arthan suspects something is amiss. Clearly he hasn’t figured us out, but he’s starting to put things together in his head.”
“We could have joined his convoy,” Fetzer said. “Then I could have killed him at camp one night.”
“If all of you had used your two prior chances, Arthan would already be dead,” Arasemis said between coughs. “Attacking him and his thousands of protective soldiers on the open road is suicidal. We must preserve ourselves for our primary task. I’ll not argue the point further.”
Fetzer looked out into the countryside from his side of the wagon bench. If Arasemis would simply give him the lamp armor and Marlan’s flaming sword, no amount of soldiers would be able to stop him.
“It won’t matter anyway,” Juhl said. “Arthan and the others will be dead soon enough.”
Arasemis grunted in agreement and wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. Fetzer kept silent and looked forward again, watching the dust cloud of Arthan’s convoy grow smaller and smaller in the distance.
Later, when the trio camped for the night, Fetzer poured his anger into his journal.
I can see the light of their campfires in the hills ahead. Now would be the moment I would be making ready in the darkness, searching for his tent and finding him, as I did his squealing brother. Were it not for Arasemis’s obsessive caution, Arthan would already be in my grasp, breathing his last. His death would be a final prelude to the pain-filled cries of a king. Then kings.
Arasemis is probably right about one thing: Arthan’s suspicion. Only a complete fool, blind and dumb, would fail to see what has happened around him. Perhaps Arthan does not wish to see his fate for what it is, even when it stares back at him. “Godspeed,” he said, believing, like the masses, that God aids us. Arthan does not see God for what he is, does not know him as the Dark One, as I have come to. Playthings, all of us. Life is a game of brief survival, an entertainment. Nothing more. Few will have true glory, most will waste their time with false victories.
We are on the eve of a darker dawn, and I must be its bringer. Down with kings and the highborn. Down with light and false glories. Only one thing is permanent, real, and wonderful: death. And I must be its bringer.
83. ARTHAN
Clonmel Estate in Eglamour, Toulon Ministry
Bloomfade, 3034
Arthan breathed a sigh of relief
when the long road to Eglamour ended. His brigade escort was probably a decent deterrent against attacks, yet he felt a good bit of luck had befallen him, too. Either way, the whole brigade could not stay with him in the capital.
“But my lord,” Livonier said, “when the time comes for you to return to Delavon, you’ll need their protection.”
“Send them home,” Arthan said, stepping out of his carriage. “It’s one thing to explain the necessity of a brigade as an escort to the king and Brugarn but quite another to garrison so many of my soldiers in Eglamour. I don’t want Brugarn to accuse me of posting my own army in his city.”
“What about keeping only two companies?” Livonier asked. “They can be barracked here at Clonmel.”
“Clonmel doesn’t have the space for them, especially with the kings’ men that are already here as part of the inquiry office. We have space for only one troop of thirty additional men, but no more.”
“Surely we can’t trust the kings’ men,” Livonier said.
“I cannot turn them away without insulting the king. And they are choice veterans.”
“Very well. And you’re sure you don’t want me to command them?”
“Livonier, you are my most trusted knight. But for now I must keep the Racharders separate from the king’s men, ably led by Sir Dardanon. Once again, this will help me avoid Brugarn’s accusations of undue influence.”
Arthan turned to walk up the front steps of Clonmel just as Serdot appeared in the open doorway. Arthan was glad to see him, but Serdot’s always-serious face looked especially dour.
“Are you not glad to see me in one piece?” Arthan asked.
“I’m sorry about Bardil and the others,” Serdot said, meeting him on the steps. “Everyone here offers their condolences. I’m afraid I have more ill news for you, however, my lord. But first, a Rugen messenger is waiting for you inside.”
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