War Maid's Choice-ARC (52 page)

“The truth is,” he told her now, releasing her hand and sitting back in his chair, “that several things are coming together at this moment. I have...reason to believe Tellian’s actions are inspiring opposition from outside the Kingdom, as well as in. I know I don’t have to explain to
you
why the Purple Lords and the River Brigands would both be opposed to this insane plan of his, and I’m afraid my sources indicate some of them are seriously contemplating some sort of...direct action here in the Kingdom in an effort to make certain it comes to nothing in the end.”

Shairnayith nodded seriously. She probably suspected—no, she almost
certainly
suspected—that he was carefully tailoring what he told her. She was far less impulsive than Seralk, yet many of the same considerations applied when it came to protecting her by limiting what she actually knew. And everything he’d just told her was the absolute truth; it simply left out his own increasingly risky part in that opposition to Tellian’s plans.

“No one could possibly predict where that sort of opposition might end, or how it might be expressed,” he continued. “Unfortunately, I believe it’s quite probable that it could lead to serious instability here in the Kingdom. That’s one of the things Tellian and the idiots supporting him have completely overlooked. The sheer scope of the threat he poses to those outside elements’ prosperity—especially to the Purple Lords’, and the gods know a Purple Lord will stop at
nothing
where money’s involved!—is almost bound to bring about interference here on the Wind Plain. The kind of interference that could well have disastrous consequences for the entire Kingdom! And however much I might fear the effect of their actions, I can’t pretend Tellian isn’t offering sufficient provocation for them to justify almost anything they might choose to do in response. But does he recognize that, or
care
about it if he does? No, of course he doesn’t!” He grimaced angrily. “He doesn’t give a single solitary damn that he’s embroiling us far more directly in the Axemen’s quarrels with both the Purple Lords and the Spearmen, which can hardly be in the Kingdom’s long-term interest!”

He shook his head in unfeigned disgust at the way Tellian was subordinating the Sothōii’s interests to those of outsiders. He was honest enough to admit he probably would have been less disgusted if his own interests and influence weren’t going to be so severely damaged if Tellian succeeded, but that didn’t make anything he’d just said untrue.

“In the worst case,” he said more somberly, “we could find ourselves in a situation which literally threatens to tear the Kingdom apart, possibly even send us back to the Time of Troubles.” He watched her eyes darken and nodded grimly. “And, frankly, that’s even more likely to happen because of how evenly matched Tellian and I are on the Great Council. You’ve read enough history to know what happens when opposing factions are so evenly balanced that neither seems likely to be able to achieve its ends through politics and compromise, and that’s exactly what I’m afraid we’re looking at. Obviously, Yeraghor supports me, but the wind riders support Tellian. That makes the North Riding critical, and that, I’m afraid, is the reason I’ve mentioned Thorandas’ request to you.”

Shairnayith looked at him, then sighed. Despite how well he knew her and how much he loved her—or perhaps
because
of how much he loved her—he couldn’t read her emotions from her expression this time, and he wished desperately that he could.

“Father,” she said after a moment, her voice low, “I’ve always known that when the time came I’d marry for ‘reasons of state.’ You did, when you married Mother, and it would have been foolish for me to think even for a moment that it could be any different in my case. For that matter, we only have to look at the West Riding to see what happens when people with the responsibilities we have marry to please themselves and let Phrobus take the rest of the Kingdom.”

She hadn’t yet heard about Leeana and that bastard Bahzell, he knew, but she didn’t need to. The effects of Tellian and Hanatha’s selfish refusal to provide a clear succession before Leeana obliged everyone by running off the the war maids like the whore she’d turned out to be was quite bad enough. Her nostrils flared with genuine anger and contempt as she thought about it, and her eyes hardened. But then she raised them to meet his gaze again, and they softened once more.

“I know you don’t want to ‘marry me off,’ Father. I know why you don’t. And to be completely honest, there’s a huge part of me that never wants to leave Toramos, move away from home...away from you. For that matter,” she smiled crookedly, “you’ve established a high standard for any future husband. I had to conclude some time ago, when I looked around and surveyed the possibilities, that I wasn’t going to find a husband of my own who was
your
equal, but that doesn’t keep me from wishing I could.

“I don’t really know Thorandas.” She shrugged. “Oh, I’ve spoken with him several times at balls in Sothōfalas, and I’ve encountered him from time to time when you’ve taken me to court, but I can’t say I’ve ever had the opportunity to actually become acquainted with him. On the other hand, how many noblewomen truly know their husbands before their wedding nights? From what I
do
know about him, he seems a likely enough man. I won’t pretend I haven’t had my own share of dreams and fantasies about dashing, handsome young men battling one another for my hand, but that’s what happens in bad ballads and worse novels, not in real life. And what young woman in her right mind could object to marrying the heir to one of the ridings? Especially when it would unite two of them not just politically but by blood?

“You don’t need my consent to approve my betrothal to Thorandas.” Her smile warmed. “I can’t deny I’m pleased you
did
discuss it with me, even though the decision is ultimately yours. But I’m hardly
surprised
you did, however some other father might have acted in your place, and if you were concerned I might object to it, don’t be.” She drew another deep breath. “I imagine every young woman feels nervous, even a little frightened, when the time finally comes for her to leave her home and go make another one with someone else. I know
I
feel that way, at any rate! But I understand the reasons, and I’m sure that in time, Thorandas and I will build a life together just as you and Mother have.”

Cassan’s eyes prickled as he looked across the table at her, and pride in her filled his heart. Yet he couldn’t help hoping Shairnayith and Thorandas’ lives together would be more complete than his own with her mother. Indeed, despite his disgust and contempt for Tellian, there was a tiny corner of his own heart which had never quite been able to stop envying him, as well, when he thought about the closeness which had kept him from setting Hanatha aside. Stupid, willful, and selfish of him, yes; it had been all of those things and worse, just as it had been the stuff of those bad ballads and worse novels of Shairnayith. Yet still that tiny piece of him envied the two of them for having something he himself had never had. Felytha Blackhill had wed a much younger Cassan Axehammer for the same sort of “reasons of state” Shairnayith faced, but there’d never been anything of fire or passion—or love—between them, and unlike her brother Rulth, she’d always hated the “great game.” She was far too intelligent and properly reared to ever let that hatred show, and Cassan doubted that even their children were aware of just how bitterly unhappy she’d been over the years as he waged his fierce, unremitting war against Tellian of Balthar. And however unhappy she’d been, she’d never shirked for a moment on her responsibilities to her house, her husband, or her position.

“Watching you leave Toramos will break my heart,” he told his daughter softly, “but you’re right. I’ve always known the time would come when I’d have to let you go, and perhaps I’ve been selfish not to have done it sooner. Yet the truth is that Thorandas is probably the only match I could make which could possibly be worthy of you.”

“I’m less concerned with worthiness than I am with binding our house more closely to the Daggeraxes for the good of them both...and for the Kingdom as a whole, as well,” Shairnayith replied.

“I’ve never doubted that for a moment, but I hope you’ll forgive a father for trying his best to find his daughter the husband she deserves...and the position for which she’s so well fitted.”

Shairnayith smiled and made a tiny waving away gesture with her right hand. Then she straightened and pushed her chair back from the table.

“I’m sure you’re actually thinking about all sorts of other things right now, Father.” She shook one finger at him teasingly, her voice and manner almost—
almost
—normal. “I know you too well to think anything else could be possible! But with your permission, I think I’ll leave you to your plans and machinations while I go for a ride to think about what we’ve discussed this morning.”

“Of course, my dear,” he agreed. “Just be sure you take your armsmen along.”

“And here I was, planning on sneaking away without them.” She sighed and shook her head. “Very well. Since you insist.”

“Such a dutiful daughter,” he said, a deep, gentle note underlying the humor in his voice, and she bent to kiss him lightly on the cheek before she rustled out of the room in the whisper of her skirts.

He sat looking after her for a long, still while. Then he took another sip from his chocolate cup and made a face as he discovered how it had cooled.

He put the cup back down, rose, and crossed to one of the dining room’s windows, gazing out it with his hands clasped behind him while he considered his children, their places in the Kingdom, and the dangerous decision which had made itself as Talthar brought him the latest news from Sothōfalas.

His gray eyes turned bleak and hard, and his jaw clenched. He’d tried
so
hard to avoid crossing that final line in his conflict with Tellian, yet now Tellian and Yurokhas had left him no choice. They’d convinced Markhos not simply to allow their accursed canal, but actually to grant it a Crown charter! That was intolerable. Even if Shairnayith’s marriage to Thorandas Daggeraxe were to bring the North Riding into alignment with the South Riding and the East Riding on the Great Council, the success of Tellian’s project would permanently tilt the balance of power towards Balthar. It could be no other way when the floods of wealth Shaftmaster was predicting at the Exchequer began to flood into the West Riding and the Kingdom. Tellian’s position as the gatekeeper of that wealth would inevitably establish him in an unchallengeable position as the Kingdom’s most powerful noble, and if that happened, Cassan’s power base would be destroyed. Worse, he told himself, it would mean Tellian’s obscene alliance with the bestial hradani would succeed, and that was unacceptable. He’d rather see the Wind Plain inundated by ghouls and trolls than see those horse-stealing
bastards
actually accepted as Sothōii allies—as
equals
—after everything they’d done to balk his own plans at every step of the way!

No. He shook his head, eyes like gray flint. No, it was the only way, and it wasn’t simply Tellian and Yurokhas who were to blame. The gods knew he would never have raised his hand against his King if his King hadn’t driven him to it! If he hadn’t
proven
how unworthy of his crown he was. But Markhos had—worse, he’d broken faith with countless generations of Sothōii who’d known the enemy when they saw it. All he’d had to do was to say no, to refuse to lend his approval to Tellian’s insanity, but he’d refused to do that. He’d taken his stand with the enemies of the Kingdom, not those who had it’s best interests at heart, and in doing that, he’d left Cassan no choice, no option.

If Crown Prince Norandhor should suddenly inherit his father’s crown, the Kingdom would be looking at a regency at least sixteen years long. And if the North Riding aligned itself with Cassan and Yeraghor on the Great Council and neither Markhos nor Yurokhas were there to oppose them, then
they
would name the Crown Prince’s regent...and that regent would
not
be someone named Tellian Bowmaster.

Talthar’s right, damn him
, Cassan thought bitterly.
I know he’s after more than just all the kormaks he’s had from me. The man has plans of his own, and I don’t trust him as far as I could throw a warhorse. But I also know he’s here, where I can keep an eye on him once the dust clears. If I can’t keep him under control with that starting advantage, then I’ll
deserve
whatever happens to me! And even if that weren’t true, he’s still right. I have to
act,
and act
now,
before Markhos officially promulgates his charter for Tellian at the fall Council session. And I have no choice but to make sure he and Yurokhas both die
.

Something inside him flickered rebelliously at the thought, but he suppressed it sternly. The die was cast, now it was simply a matter of arranging things as carefully as possible. As he’d suggested to Shairnayith, there were outsiders who would do almost anything to see Tellian’s canal fail. The trick would be to make certain any suspicion within the Kingdom fell upon those outsiders, instead of Cassan.

And if Talthar’s right and Yurokhas means to continue ignoring his brother’s summons home and stays right where he is on the Ghoul Moor,
his
death can probably be made into an accident—and one
Tellian
will be blamed for, since it’s his expedition Yurokhas is accompanying
. He smiled thinly at the thought.
Having him “killed accidentally in battle” will decouple his death from Markhos’, too, now that I think about it. Just a dreadful, tragic coincidence...and one which would never have happened—just as those “outsiders” would never have had any motive to murder the King—if not for Tellian’s perverted alliance with the hradani and Dwarvenhame!

The smile grew broader and colder as he contemplated the possibilities. If he was going to be forced to do this thing, then he would do it as well and as effectively as it could be done.

And he knew just how to go about doing that.

He turned from the window, crossed to the table, and tugged on the embroidered silken bell rope. No more than two or three seconds passed before the door from the pantry into the dining room opened and one of the under butlers stepped through it with a bow.