DragonCrown Saga - The Grand Crusade Part 4

"Iknowshe has agents here. So does everyone else." Resolute laughed wryly and swung his head to survey the crowd. "There are men here who would sell their children for the coppers off a dead man's eyes, so taking foreign gold in exchange for information is nothing. They do not worry me as much, though, as the ordinary folks."

Erlestoke looked around. He saw nothing unusual in the tavern's clientele. They might be a bit rough around the edges-though the man who vomited in a bucket that had been used to bring him beer did wipe his mouth on his sleeve with elan. To the prince's eye they seemed quite normal, with men predominant, a few Vorquelves like Resolute, and two urZrethi women huddled nearest the fire. They had shifted the shape of their faces to make themselves purely hideous, which stopped advances by anyone on the upright side of blind drunkenness.

"I don't see the threat here."

"You will, once word is out. It will ooze from the confidential councils." Resolute's voice remained low.

"The first news will be almost happenstance, reporting our arrival and the lack of our friend's presence. I have little doubt the crowns will decide to say he's remained on Vael. Soon enough, though, a chance remark will be overheard, or someone will decide his path to power benefits from the revelation of the death. When word gets out, hope will die for these people. Some will rally to fight, some will lose all heart, and others will be angry. Their fury will be directed against you and Crow, even Princess Alexia and me." Erlestoke started to deny that vision, then looked at the various faces around the room again.

Many were happy, laughing and almost carefree, but others were wary and watchful. Some were even nervous. The same nervousness could spark a fight because of a chance remark, or an innocent b.u.mp.

The death of the Norrington could be the sort of provocation that might motivate a crowd to act with violent intent.

"Again, I bow to your wisdom." Erlestoke sipped ale to wash the sour taste L.

from his mouth. "So, you've come here to watch men and gauge their temperament?"

"No, that is merely a pastime." The Vorquelf looked up and his eyes brightened. "I came for quarry and here it is."

Before he'd finished speaking, Resolute was up and out of his chair. He slipped behind another figure, one almost as tall as he, wearing a dark cloak. Though Resolute crowded in tight behind the person, Erlestoke did catch the flash of a dagger pressed to the back of the cloak.Right over where the kidney would be on a man.

The cloaked figure bowed his head, then turned and joined them at the table. Resolute snapped something in Elvish and the other Vorquelf male, with long black hair and bright blue eyes, took a chair that left his back open to the rest of the common room.

Resolute sat again and smiled coldly. "You recall I said everyone had agents here?"

"I do."

"Well, this one belongs to General Markus Adrogans." The Vorquelf's silver eyes sharpened. "I've been waiting for him, because we need to have a good long chat."

T7" ing Scrainwood had found the conversation with his son utterly dissatisfac-li tory. He realized that the chances of his son's turning the secret of firedirtWover to him had been slender, but to learn that he did not even possess it had been a vast disappointment. Scrainwood could not discount the idea that Chytrine would eventually betray him, despite her having made him asullanciri. He would have done the same thing in her place, so he had to plan against that eventuality. His possessing the secret of firedirt would have given her pause and would have also given him the power to hold Erlestoke at bay. Now those chances for survival had been squandered by a son who had better things to do than to learn the greatest military secret in the world.

As he wandered in the suite of rooms on the estate he had borrowed from the Oriosan merchant Playfair, Scrainwood entertained no illusions about Chytrine's treachery. He'd seen for himself what she had caused to be done to the Azure Spider. The man who had once been a legendary thief, and had actually stolen a fragment of the DragonCrown from Jerana, had been transformed into an arach-nomorph. She'd done it to punish him for losing that same fragment to Princess Alexia and her coterie. The Azure Spider had been made into asullanciriand had died a parody of what he had once been.

Scrainwood, too, had been made into asullanciri, though she had not told him what his powers were, and he felt not the least bit different as a result of the transformation. Chytrine had hinted at his being her secret weapon, and had urged him to continue doing what he had done for decades since she'd had his mother slain. The implication was clear: if he failed, he would be slain, and his being asullanciriwould not matter one way or another in that regard.

He stopped to ponder the irony of his seeking a way ultimately to render Chytrine powerless when all the crowned heads in the city would have thought such a bold plan was quite beyond his grasp. They saw the Northern Empress as a threat to their nations, but he knew her as a far more personal one. They would not have put his doing anything to save his nation past him, yet they underestimated what he would do to save himself.

Either I find a way to stop her, or I make myself so useful to her that she will not discard me. He laughed sharply at that last idea.Shewilldiscard me, but if she hesitates, I gain more time to find a way to destroy her.

As the echoes of his laugh died, a tiny rap came on the door. Before he could call out, it cracked and Cabot Marsham poked his head into the room. "Highness, you have a visitor."

Scrainwood's nostrils flared. "Do I look as if I wish to receive a visitor?"

"No, Highness, but..."

The king gave him a stare that by all rights should have caused his skull to explode. That the man did not immediately retreat suggested the visitor was of some import.There can be only two people who warrant such attention. Scrainwood hesitated for only a moment, then nodded. "Send the witch in."

Marsham just opened the door more widely and Grand d.u.c.h.ess Tatyana of Okrannel entered. Swathed in winter clothing, the ancient crone appeared to be an oversize doll of careless manufacture. He would have expected her to collapse at any moment beneath the weight of her costume, but the fire burning in her ice-blue eyes hinted at boundless energy.

Scrainwood forced a smile. "A pleasure as always, Grand d.u.c.h.ess."

"Not even your odious aide lies that well, Highness." Tatyana turned, looked at Marsham, and the man vanished. The door clicked shut behind him. "He is a toad, that one, and ambitious."

"I know. Like a toad, he will get all puffed up, attract attention to himself, and be slain." Curling his fingers in toward his palm, Scrainwood inspected the nails on his right hand. "It must be something of consequence that brings you here on such a night."

"Indeed, Highness." Tatyana moved to one of two chairs positioned before the fireplace. The golden highlights washing over her face did nothing to soften its aspect. "Have you more of that wine you offered me in Yslin?"

"I do. You truly think our discussion merits it?"

"I hope you will think so, Highness."

"I am dubious." Scrainwood crossed to a sideboard and poured two crystal goblets of wine, then brought one to her. "I half expect to have you say that now your nation is liberated, you will sever all ties with me and that our business of the past is concluded."

Tatyana took the wine and shook her head. "No, Highness, now is the time when our alliance needs to be strengthened. While it is true that my nation has been freed from Aurolani oppression, there is no guarantee that Chytrine will not bring more troops to bear on it and drive Marcus Adrogans away. What we have won so quickly, we can lose just as quickly."

Scrainwood frowned as he sipped his wine, but the vintage was good enough to ease his expression. "I will admit to being confused, d.u.c.h.ess. Perhaps you would enlighten me as to how you see the current situation."

The crone sat back and sipped her wine contentedly, then gave him a smile that contained too much superiority to make him feel confident. "The situation is simple, Highness. My agents have been in Okrannel for years, scouting, noting things, and more of them have traveled the country in the wake of Adrogans' army. What I have learned is disturbing. It would appear that, over the last quarter century, Chytrine has been using Okrannel as a breadbasket. There have been good harvests and the bulk of the foodstuffs have been heading into Aurolan to allow her to build up her army. It is also supposed that much of it has gone to Vorquellyn and has enabled her to create these new creatures, thekryal-niri. They are supplanting the vylaens and are quite formidable."

"So I have heard."

"In my councils we have supposed she may well have more creatures, more horrible creatures, just waiting to be unleashed. And she is likely to have the same in such numbers that she can push back into Okrannel at will."

Scrainwood swirled the wine in his goblet. "If that is true, we are all doomed."

"Not if we play things as carefully as you have in the past." She sat forward again. "Sebcia and Muroso have fallen, or will, shortly. The latter has cost her much in resources, primarily because of the intervention of a dragon. Saporicia, we can suppose, will further bleed her of troops and supplies, but we both know the Saporicians have never truly had the belly for fighting."

The king nodded. "They sent no troops to help liberate Okrannel." Tatyana's eyes blazed. "Exactly."

Scrainwood snorted. "Neither did Oriosa."

The Okrans n.o.ble half bowed her head, but her smile did not diminish in the least. "But you sent the Norrington, Highness. He was worth more than all the regiments you could have mustered."

"Neatly said, d.u.c.h.ess." Scrainwood sipped more wine, then moved closer to the fire. He'd not felt cold until she entered the room. "So, your supposition is that Chytrine's army will pour through Saporicia, too?"

"Yes, and that will bring her to Alcida. Augustus is the key here, and you are his friend. He knows and trusts my niece, Alexia, and will let her lead the armies that he will gather." She set her goblet down on the spindly table at her left hand. "Among those a.s.sembled here, only Augustus and Queen Carus are capable of bringing together the nations that will be needed to destroy Chytrine. Moreover, Saporicia is a trap. With Oriosa and Bokagul to the east and Loquellyn to the northwest, Chytrine's troops will be limited in their ability to move. Her supply lines will be stretched. Her troops will be vulnerable."

He nodded. "She will be bled and keep funneling troops into Saporicia, which means she will not be bringing them to bear on Okrannel. You have a chance to fortify your nation against her return."

"You antic.i.p.ate me."

"But what of the Adrogans question, d.u.c.h.ess?"

Tatyana's head came up, and she appeared puzzled, which was the first time Scrainwood had seen that expression on her face. "He has taken Okrannel. He liberated it. He shall be rewarded and glorified."

"Ah, but adding Okrannel to a Jeranese empire would bring him more glory, would it not?" The king smiled as her face darkened. "Have you not heard the rumor that Adrogans now possesses the secret of the dragonel? With it he can carve an empire. Valicia and Gurol will have to defend against that possibility, meaning Alcida and our alliance can abandon all hope of aid from the west."

He watched her struggle to regain her composure. So focused had she been on the freeing of her nation that she never paused to imagine that the liberator might not want to give it up. "If such rumors prove true, it would be most dire indeed. It could well and truly mean the end of the alliance. It would be the end of everything."

"Only if Adrogans were to turn the weapons against us and not Chytrine."

Tatyana snorted. "You have met him. He is vain and has a sense of himself that would elevate him above all others. Can you imagine he will not use those weapons against us?"

The king returned to the sideboard and refilled his goblet. "I can imagine many things, d.u.c.h.ess. I imagine you came here to ask me to aid you in developing a strategy that will draw Chytrine's troops further south. As you are one of those who think I am Chytrine's creature, you were also prepared to offer me something of import in exchange for my cooperation. You have no troops to coerce me into doing what you wish. What do you have to offer?"

She smiled in a way that made his flesh crawl. "I offer Oriosa a chance at redemption."

Her words surprised Scrainwood. "If you can do that, those who have judged you a witch have sorely underestimated you. Your powers would rival those of Chytrine herself."

"I make no such claims, but I can offer you redemption, you and your nation." She took up her goblet again and studied it as firelight flickered through the ruby depths of the wine. "It is part of the prophecy, all woven together. You see, in the time before my grandnephew died at Fortress Draconis, you and he had many discussions of things of great import. You both were aware that the war would not be won then, which is why you chose not to accompany Lord Norrington to the north. It is why you sought to rescue the sword Temmer from Bosleigh Norrington. My nephew Kirill, you see, was possessed of much the same skills at prophecy that I am, and he knew you were the key to Chytrine's defeat. After all, Norrington is just a location patronymic, and as the King of Oriosa you have every right to claim it. You are the Norrington, sire, or your son is."

She held up a finger to forestall comment. "So, at the risk of your own safety, to prepare the trap that would destroy Chytrine, you endured decaaes oi auuKand doubt. You confided in no one, but you did your part. You let Chytrine scout from your nation, but you told others of her strength. It was the hardest thing you have ever done, being true to the word you gave Kirill before his death. You were true, however, and because of it Chytrine will be defeated. Your role will be revealed.

As a sign of the veracity of this alliance, the doc.u.ment that betrothed the infant Alexia to your son Erlestoke shall be revealed and our dynasties shall be united. The two nations that saved the world shall be as one, and the glory of both shall be restored."

The sheer audacity of her plan astounded him, and yet he saw it could easily work. As a lie it was grand, and with a minor amount of doc.u.ment fabrication, the evidence to support it would be irrefutable. The traitor Hawkins had been destroyed by songs, and the hero Crow had been made by them, so buying bards and having them deliver the tale to the common folk would sway them. In the world's relief at Chytrine's destruction, many a hero would be exalted, and Scrainwood could easily be among them as the one who did what had to be done to save the world.

"It is a bold plan, d.u.c.h.ess, and brilliant, I must say that." Scrainwood nodded slowly, then brought the decanter over to her and topped off her wine. "As presented, there really is little for me to lose. Letting Saporicia become a battleground saves my nation from the same. If, by some mischance, your vision of a victorious future is in error, where the battles are fought will matter little. There is no reason I should not agree."

She sipped and closed her eyes as she savored. Her face did not become pleasant, but just a bit less forbidding. "Then we have a pact?"

"With a condition."

"That being?"

"You will have to be the one to raise the question of Adrogans' possession of dragonels. You will have to push to have the secret shared. I cannot. I think if you were to suggest that the rumor has been heard, and the sharing will let us meet Chytrine as equals, the message will be heard best. If the rumor is not true, no harm done, for the disappointment will be folded into determination to fight harder. And if it is true, then we bargain such that dragonels shall be given to those troops who come to fight."

She nodded slowly and sipped again. "Done and done. I do find that rumor disturbing. Your method of handling it will bring the truth to light. If you were to bring it up, duplicity would be suspected and the damage would be done."

"We are agreed." Scrainwood slowly smiled. "And do not think I have missed your ulterior motive."

Tatyana's head came up. "What do you mean, Highness?"

"The sealing of our dynasties. You expect Oriosan gold to be invested in the rebuilding of Okrannel."

"It would be a hope, yes."

"Good, then as we liberate pieces of Saporicia from the Aurolani, perhaps we need an international zone in the south, including the port city ofSanges. It would facilitate trade between ournations if I had an ocean port."

"That would require the death of the Saporician royal house since they would never agree to it."

"Certainly whoever the liberators raised to lead the nation in the aftermath of that tragedy would happily grant such a boon to his allies."

The old woman nodded. "If Chytrine does not manage it, there are ways it can be handled."

"I shall check the lineage and perhaps find a suitable family branch with a daughter to marry to Linchmere. It would make things tidy."

"Indeed, it would." Tatyana tossed her wine off with the gusto of a gutter-wh.o.r.e in a dockside tavern.

"Your hospitality and time are always appreciated, Highness."

"Pity you have to leave so soon, d.u.c.h.ess."

She stood and laughed at his remark. "Such sincerity cloaking a lie. Will they never realize you are far more dangerous than Chytrine could ever be?"

He smiled. "No, they will not. It is just as well. It allows them to sleep."

"Then, while they sleep, I shall be about my work." Tatyana bowed her head to him. "Fare well, King Scrainwood. Together we shall guarantee a future for the world that will suit us perfectly."

Prince Erlestoke regarded the Vorquelf sitting across from him. Smaller than Resolute and slight of build, he still had the sharp features of an elf, including the pointed tips of ears rising through a curtain of fine black hair. His intensely blue eyes had no pupils, which made his glance a bit unnerving, though less so than Resolute's. Erlestoke saw no tattoos, but the Vorquelf wore long sleeves and had his tunic laced up tight beneath a thick sheepskin coat. He even wore gloves, so the prince couldn't see if he sported rings or other jewelry. Resolute hissed at him in Elvish, and Erlestoke knew enough to catch some words. The tone in Resolute's voice filled in more, leaving Erlestoke with the impression that Resolute was full of both fury and contempt for his companion. The other elf kept his face composed, betraying no emotion, then slowly shook his head and spoke carefully enough that Erlestoke could understand him clearly.

"I've not sought to hide from you, Resolute. Upon my arrival in Narriz, which was only yesterday, I immediately joined our brethren here. I asked after you, but was told you had no congress with them. I did not seek you out, but I do not shrink from you either."

Resolute snorted, then slowed his Elvish speech. "Do you still call yourself Banausic?"

"It seems fitting, still, for I am ever practical."

"You served Chytrine once. I have not forgotten."

"Nor have I, but I have a better master now." The Vorquelf lifted his chin. "I have served Adrogans well. I liaised between the Nalisk Rangers and the Blackfeathers. I was with them, ahead of the army, from theHighlandsto Svarskya. I gave them no cause for complaint."

Resolute's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

L.

Erlestoke took the opportunity to ask a question. "I've heard a rumor that Adrogans has the secret of firedirt. Is it true?"

Banausic regarded him coldly. "That would be no business of yours." Resolute's hand immediately closed on Banausic's right forearm and squeezed. "It is business of ours, so you will answer the question."

The other Vorquelf tried to keep his face impa.s.sive, but pain tightened his eyes. "Very well. We sailed, the lot of us, on the night Svarskya fell. We sailed past the hulk of a ship and saw that dragonels were being recovered from it. I believe it was a workshop where firedirt was made. I would know more, but we were sent forth quickly, and Tagothcha sped us here with uncommon alacrity."

Erlestoke nodded to Resolute, and his companion relaxed his grip, but did not remove his hand from Banausic's arm. "How deadly was the battle? In what condition are Adrogans' troops?"

"Not nearly as torn up as they should be. Adrogans planned and executed the campaign brilliantly, but the Aurolani forces barely opposed him. At every turn when we should have paid mightily, we won through without much trouble. At first we thought this was due to Nefrai-kesh's absence, but he was there at the defense of Svarskya. It is thought many of his troops and dragonels were called off to the battle for Sebcia, since we were not expected to be at Svarskya so quickly. But even firedirt was poorly employed. Adrogans' troops are in very good shape and fully capable of launching a new campaign."

Erlestoke nodded and glanced at Resolute. "With dragonels he could create an empire for himself. We know this will be suggested in the councils, splitting them. Do you think this is why Chytrine let him have Svarskya so easily?"

Before Resolute could answer, Banausic tapped a ringer against the tabletop. "Fear of that is why Adrogans swore those of us he sent here to secrecy. He said that he did not know if it was a trick by Chytrine, but we were to listen for such rumors. He will not admit to having firedirt or dragonels for he does not want the alliance shattered."

Resolute nodded slowly. "A wise man, though wise in which way, I wonder? An army will let him build an empire, or will let him take Chytrine's gift and wreak havoc with it against her. Which way will he go?"

Banausic shrugged. "I am no witch to know his mind, but I would bet on the latter case. He is a proud man, and the very idea that Chytrine gave him Svarskya rankles. He has liberated Okrannel, true, but I think he would like to be known as the one who destroyed Chytrine."

The prince drank some more ale and let the bitter, woody fluid sour his mouth before swallowing. He shivered, then looked at Resolute. "Why do I get the feeling that this war is going to come down to people choosing to do whatever they want while the crowns dither?"

"Because you think clearly." The silver-eyed Vorquelf's nostrils flared. "You have anarcanslatato communicate with Adrogans?"

"Yes."