Wolfblade (31 page)

“You’re being consulted now.”

“I don’t want this.” For a moment she feared she sounded like a petulant and frightened child. Laran might even have been fooled had it not been for her earlier lightning-fast assessment of the political ramifications of his proposal. “In fact, I refuse!”

“Very well,” he agreed, turning for the door.

Marla looked at him suspiciously. “What do you mean,
very well?”

He stopped with his hand resting on the latch. “I’m not going to force myself on you, Marla. If you truly don’t want any part of this, then we’ll leave things as they are. You can go to Fardohnya in the spring and that will be the end of it.”

“But—”

“Yes?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.

She was fighting back tears. “All you’re offering me is a choice between two husbands I don’t want. What makes you so special? Hablet can make me a queen.”

“Go to Fardohnya and be a queen then,” he replied. “It really doesn’t make that much difference to me.”

Marla couldn’t believe he would be so callous about it. Then Laran hesitated, and something in his demeanour softened. As if he’d suddenly taken pity on her, he turned from the door and crossed the room. Taking Marla’s reluctant hands in his, he held them and smiled at her encouragingly. “Marla, if you’re clever enough to work out what this means, then you’re smart enough to know what will happen if you refuse to become a part of it. I don’t need to threaten you or make promises you know to be insincere.”

“You don’t care about me. You don’t even know me.”

“And you think
Hablet
cares about you?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why is this offer any worse than what you’ve already got on the table?”

“But you’re no better than Hablet,” she accused. “You don’t want me. You’re only interested in any children I might bear.”

“Until and unless your brother produces a couple of healthy sons, your highness, every man, woman and child in Hythria is only interested in any children you might bear. Surely you appreciate that?”

She pulled her hands away from his grasp and crossed her arms against the chill. “And if I don’t care? Suppose I have no interest in being the repository for Hythria’s dreams for the Wolfblade line?” She smiled thinly and added, “For all you know, my lord, my sympathies lie with the Patriot Faction.”

Fortunately, Laran Krakenshield had a sense of humour. He smiled at the very suggestion. “A Patriot, eh? You don’t look like a dangerous insurgent, your highness.”

“You’re not exactly what I envisaged as my husband, either, Laran Krakenshield.”

“I know,” he agreed. “And, believe it or not, I do appreciate how hard this is going to be for you. But in the end, either you’re interested in keeping Hythria out of Hablet’s grasp or you’re not. That’s what it comes down to.”

“It’s not fair.”

“And it’s never going to be,” he said.

Marla sighed, wondering how hope could turn to despair so quickly. She’d felt the same at the ball in Greenharbour when she’d discovered she was going to marry Hablet.
You’d think, by now, I’d be used to it
.

“Do you want my answer right now?”

He shook his head. “I’ll be here for another few days. You have until I
leave, your highness. I trust you’ll come to the right decision and leave with me.”

“I’ll think about it,” she promised.

“That’s all I ask.”

Laran turned for the door, but Marla had one more question for him. “When I . . . or rather
if
. . . I leave with you, my lord, may I bring my slaves with me?”

“You may bring your nurse,” he told her.

“And my
court’esa?”

“
Court’esa
are usually sold when a woman marries, your highness. It’s a husband’s duty to provide new
court’esa
for his wife if she requires them.”

“Suppose I’ve become attached to the ones I have now?”

“Are they so important to you?”

“Would it make a difference to you if they were?”

Laran smiled. “That’s a very loaded question, your highness.”

“You’re asking me to commit my allegiance, my body and my life to you, Lord Krakenshield, because you would have me believe you’re a better man than the King of Fardohnya. I think it only fair that I find a way to take your measure.”

He nodded in agreement. “You may keep the nurse and one of the
court’esa
. That’s a better offer than you’d get from most husbands.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll speak to you before I leave?”

“Most assuredly.”

Laran said nothing further, simply letting himself out of the room with a courtly bow, leaving Marla alone to contemplate a future that she had thought, up until a few days ago, could not slip any more out of control than it was already.

A
lija’s still here in Greenharbour.”

Kagan looked up from his desk with a frown. Tesha had dumped a pile of work on him that had accumulated in his absence and he was trying to dispose of as much of it as possible before he left for Warrinhaven. He glanced out of the window, surprised to see the sun quite low on the horizon. The decanter on his desk was empty, too. He must have been at it for hours.

“Are you sure?” he asked his apprentice, stretching his shoulders painfully.
I should teach a few of the secretaries to forge my signature and hand over my seal
, he thought wistfully.
That would cut down on the workload considerably
.

Wrayan flopped inelegantly into the seat opposite Kagan’s desk. “I ran into Tarkyn Lye in the Library.”

“What’s a blind man doing in a library?” Kagan asked suspiciously.

“Returning a scroll Alija borrowed, according to Tarkyn,” Wrayan said. “It was an interesting conversation, actually. He spent most of it trying to quiz me about what you were up to, while I subtly interrogated him about Alija’s movements.”

“Who won?”

“Neither of us, I fear. Did you know his mind is shielded?”

“How could that be? Tarkyn Lye hasn’t got a magical bone in his body.”

“Well, it’s Alija’s work, obviously. I wonder what he knows that she’s afraid somebody else will find out if they read his mind?”

“Why don’t you read his mind and find out?”

“I can’t,” Wrayan shrugged. “At least not without giving away that I’d been inside his head.”

Kagan threw down his quill and leaned back in his chair. “Do you think he’s heard Lernen is leaving Greenharbour tomorrow?”

“Oh, you can count on that, Kagan,” Wrayan confirmed. “And if Tarkyn Lye knows about it, you can bet Alija does.”

“Damn!”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure. Don’t suppose you’d like to distract her for me?”

“How?”

Kagan grinned at him with a mocking leer. “Be nice to her. A good wine . . . nice music . . . Barnardo’s probably back in Dregian and she’s always had a thing for you . . .”

“Oh, you are
so
funny,” Wrayan replied without so much as a hint of a smile. “And the only reason Alija has a
thing
for me is because she’s afraid I’m stronger than she is and she’s itching to find out.”

“Is she?”

“Is she what?”

“Stronger than you?”

“How would I know?” Wrayan asked uncomfortably.

“I don’t think she can be,” Kagan mused, quite seriously. “I suspect even a little bit of Harshini blood gives you far more power than an Innate.”

“I’m not Harshini, Kagan.”

“Of course you are, foolish boy. And don’t contradict me. I’m your master.”

Wrayan ignored that one. “What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea. The only thing I know for certain is that Alija cannot be allowed to learn the reason for Lernen’s visit to Warrinhaven. Or be in a position to follow us when we leave tomorrow.”

“She’s not going to let you leave Greenharbour with Lernen unremarked. She’ll probably want to come along, too. At the very least, she’ll try to put a spy in Lernen’s retinue.”

“Speaking of Lernen’s retinue,” Kagan asked, “got any bright ideas about how we get rid of them for a week or two? I don’t want our esteemed High Prince getting distracted and there’s not a chance in all seven hells of making it to Warrinhaven in time with a couple of dozen of his giggling courtiers in tow.”

“Poison them,” Wrayan suggested.

“
Excuse
me?”

His apprentice smiled at the look on Kagan’s face. “I don’t mean fatally. Just arrange to have something put in the wine the first night out that makes them puke for a few days. Lernen will think it’s an assassination attempt and you’ll be able to bundle him out of the camp so fast, he won’t even ask where you’re taking him until you’re halfway to Warrinhaven.”

Kagan stared at him. “You worry me sometimes, boy.”

“You keep forgetting where I come from, Kagan.”

“I think you keep forgetting where you
are,”
the sorcerer replied with a shake of his head. “Still, it’s a capital idea. Wish I’d thought of it, actually.”

“Consider it my small contribution to the cause.”

Kagan studied Wrayan curiously. “You don’t think we should be doing this, do you?”

Wrayan hesitated before answering. “If you want my honest opinion, then no, I don’t think we should be doing anything like this at all.”

“Why not?”

“Why
not?”
Wrayan asked in disbelief. “Have you taken a close look at the man you’re so desperately trying to keep in power? I’ve been inside his head, Kagan. There’s not a thought in Lernen Wolfblade’s mind that isn’t fixed firmly on his own pleasure, and they’re pretty twisted pleasures at that, let me tell you. Do you know how often they carry slaves out of his rooms in sacks? This is a man who thinks drinking the milk of new mothers and the blood of young boys will make him more virile, for pity’s sake!”

“How many slaves do you think he’s killed?” Kagan asked.

“I don’t know.” Wrayan shrugged, throwing his hand up in disgust. “A score or two, maybe more.”

“A small price to pay.”

“For what?”

“For keeping Barnardo off the throne.”

“I don’t see how he could be much worse than what we face now.”

“You don’t? Then think about this. You are absolutely right about the High Prince. There’s
not
a single thought in Lernen Wolfblade’s mind that isn’t fixed firmly on his own pleasure. But the difference between Lernen and his cousin? Lernen doesn’t care about anything else. He’s not going to conquer anyone. He’s not going to declare war on anyone. He’s not even going to interfere when the Warlords have a dispute. Lernen doesn’t want to do anything but pursue his own pleasure and that’s just fine by me, because while he’s chasing his phony nymphs and his pretend Harshini and his fake gods and goddesses around his garden on the roof of the west wing for a bit of hanky-panky, I’ve got some seriously competent people running this country, making sure we stay safe and prosperous. Lernen is a figurehead, Wrayan, nothing more. He’s not the best figurehead we’ve ever had, but the alternative is far more disturbing.”

“And for the vague hope of an heir some day who’ll be more than a pointless figurehead, you’ll entrust a third of the country’s military power and wealth to Laran Krakenshield?”

“If my nephew fathers him, I’ll bet you any amount you want that the next High Prince of Hythria will be a man to be reckoned with.”

“There’s a word for what you’re doing, Kagan.”

“Nepotism?” he asked with a smile.

“Treason was the word I was thinking of. And so was every man in that meeting in Cabradell, I might add, although none was game to say it aloud.”

“It’s only treason if we fail, Wrayan.”

Wrayan looked at his master with a raised brow. “And you accuse the
Thieves’
Guild of having an ambiguous moral stance?”

That was a charge Kagan couldn’t really defend, so he decided to change the subject. “What are we going to do about Alija?”

“I don’t know,” Wrayan sighed, clearly unhappy that his pleas to stop propping up Lernen had fallen on deaf ears. “Distract her somehow, I suppose. And we won’t even repeat your earlier suggestion about me being involved.”

“But it may be the only way,” Kagan said thoughtfully.

“Kagan, not in a million years would Alija Eaglespike believe that I—”

“No, you misunderstand me,” Kagan cut in. “What you said earlier is the plain truth. Alija’s interest in you has always been centred on whether or not she’s stronger than you. Maybe it’s time we found out.”

“I hope you’re not suggesting what I think you are, Kagan.”

“You need to challenge her.”

“Challenge her how? We’re sorcerers, Kagan, not Warlords calling each other out over an insult.”

“We need to find a way to force Alija into confronting you.”

“And then what?”