“There’s not much to report since your last visit,” he said after a moment. “We’ve kept a sharp eye out, and it’s a good thing we’d that note of yours.” He shook his head, expression disgusted. “Rock Coast seems a right slow learner.”
“It’s not like he doesn’t have plenty of other potential spies where the last one came from,” Seijin Merch pointed out. “He figures that sooner or later he’s bound to get someone onto Lady Karyl’s staff if he just keeps trying. After all—” she grinned at Ohdwiar “—everyone knows she’s a notoriously soft touch for taking in stray puppies and gray lizards.”
Ohdwiar snorted again, rather more harshly.
“How difficult was it to discourage the most recent candidate?” the seijin asked.
“Not so difficult as all that.” Ohdwiar returned her grin with a nasty little smile. “Strangest thing happened. When Lady K was interviewing her, Zhorzhyna came in to announce that the silver salt cellar had disappeared out of the kitchen while the young lady was waiting to see the Mistress. Turned out it was in her bag. No clue how it got there.”
“Oh, that was wicked, Ahzbyrn! I like it.”
“Well, it might be the lass was a miserable treacherous spy, but the lads and I didn’t have the stomach to go breaking her kneecaps. So it seemed best all round. Besides, you’ve reminded us often enough to keep a low profile. Hard to do that when you’re tossing young women off the battlements every other five-day.”
“I imagine it would be, yes.” Merch nodded gravely, blue eyes sparkling. She did like Sergeant Major Ohdwiar. He reminded her forcibly of a couple of tough-as-nails Terran Marine sergeants she’d known a thousand years ago.
“Well, in addition to making sure you aren’t tossing any dishonest, salt cellar–stealing maids off any battlements, and besides dropping in on Lady Karyl for a cup of tea, I did have one other thing on my mind.”
“And what might that be?” Ohdwiar asked warily.
“It’s just that I hope you’ve found that hiding place we were talking about last time I was here, because in about two five-days, a fishing boat’s going to turn up here in Cheshyr Bay. The only ‘fisherman’ aboard will be a fellow named Dagyr Cudd, so he’ll need a little help to get his catch ashore.”
“And what sort of catch might we be speaking of, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Oh, a few crates of rifles. A few more crates of ammunition. That sort of thing,” she said with an airy wave of her hand. “Oh! And I think Dynnys will be especially happy. Unless I’m mistaken, there should be two or three mortars, as well.” She smiled seraphically at him. “I do hope you boys will take proper care of your toys, Ahzbyrn.”
* * *
“Have you deciphered the letter, Your Grace?” Sedryk Mahrtynsyn asked.
“Just finished, Father,” Zhasyn Seafarer replied, sitting back in his chair before the roaring fire. He tilted the several sheets of paper to catch the lantern light as he read back over them in silence for several minutes. Then he looked up from them with a smile.
“I can’t really thank you enough for agreeing to serve as our messenger, Father,” he said warmly. “Rebkah asked me to tell you she appreciates your services just as deeply as I do. We understand the risk you’re running for us.”
“With all due respect, Your Grace, I’m not running those risks solely for you,” the under-priest pointed out with a slightly crooked smile. “Mind you, it’s my honor to assist you, but I’m not certain I’d be quite so eager to run them for any merely mortal reward.”
“No one could argue with that,” Duke Rock Coast said simply.
“May I ask if Lady Swayle’s written good news?”
For his own safety, Mahrtynsyn never knew the contents of the encrypted letters he carried back and forth. As far as he knew, they were simply the correspondence of the cousins for whom he was honored to deliver them. That was his story, and if he didn’t know their content, he couldn’t be tricked into betraying himself by revealing that knowledge under interrogation.
“Quite a bit, actually. I’ll keep most of it back, I’m afraid. It’s not my information to reveal without her permission, but she’s confirmed that Holy Tree’s climbed down off the fence.”
“That’s wonderful, Your Grace!” Mahrtynsyn exclaimed.
The Schuelerite had wondered which way Sir Bryndyn Crawfyrd would jump in the end. He was only in his late thirties and he’d never been very active in resisting the Crown’s power. Nor was he an especially fervent Temple Loyalist. He was, however, concerned by the social changes he saw sweeping towards him, and his status as the current Earl of Swayle’s future brother-in-law had probably been the decisive factor. If he brought his duchy into the conspiracy, it would cover Swayle’s eastern border and extend their territorial reach another three hundred miles towards Cherayth. Perhaps even more to the point, it would outflank the Earldom of Saint Howan, trapping it between Holy Tree and Swayle to the north and the Duchy of Black Horse to the west, and they could absolutely rely upon Sir Dynzayl Hyntyn, the Earl of Saint Howan’s loyalty to Sharleyan Ahrmahk. He was the Chancellor of the Treasury, after all.
“Yes, it is good news,” Rock Coast acknowledged. “But there may be better.”
“Better, Your Grace?” Mahrtynsyn’s eyes glowed, and Rock Coast smiled.
“First, while you were away, I hosted a snow lizard hunt. Lantern Walk was part of the party, and he and I had a long talk sitting in one of the hunting blinds.”
“Has the Duke agreed to join us, Your Grace?” Mahrtynsyn asked eagerly.
“Not quite … yet, at any rate. He’s a careful sort, you know. I suspect he’s been involved in more than one earlier attempt to … restrain the Crown, but no one’s ever been able to prove anything of the sort. So it’s not too surprising that he hasn’t rushed to fling himself into our arms.”
Mahrtynsyn nodded. Calling Sir Bahnyvyl Kyvlokyn “a careful sort” was a massive understatement. He was in his early forties and remarkably untrammeled by anything approaching a fundamental principle. He did have some concerns about the erosion of aristocratic privilege, but he was willing to accept that … so long as he wound up on top of whatever system replaced it.
“I don’t know if we’ll be able to involve him fully, but at least he’s prepared to declare his ‘neutrality’ when we make our move. Under the right circumstances, I believe he’ll do more. He’s been in contact with both Lady Swayle and Black Horse, as well as with me, without reporting any of us to Zhustyn or Stoneheart.”
“Your Grace!” Mahrtynsyn looked alarmed, but Rock Coast waved it away.
“It’s not like any of us have said anything outwardly actionable in front of anyone else, Father. And none of us have committed anything to Bahnyvyl in writing. So even if he’d been inclined to betray us, there’s no evidence he could hand over, and hearsay evidence has never been enough to convict a peer of the realm, even under Sailys and Sharleyan. Besides, he may be under more pressure to join us than he thinks when the time comes.”
“Why, Your Grace?”
“I’ve spoken very cautiously with Mountain Heart. He’s burned his fingers a couple of times before, so he’s more than a little cautious about going back for another try, especially now that that bastard Cayleb’s been added to the mix. He pointed out that even if we succeed in taking the entire Kingdom, Sharleyan can always borrow an army—or at least a navy—from her husband and come back for another try. Of course, if we succeed and disband the current army, I’m sure we can produce one of our own big enough to give any number of Marines more than they want to handle. More to the point, I think Mountain Heart suspects Black Bottom’s agreed to join us this time.”