It struck her as an odd question. “Do you expect the southern houses to oppose you?”
“I expect nothing, First Minister. But as I told you already, I must prepare myself for every possibility.”
“Well, I’m afraid I can’t help you with this, Archminister. I know little about the dukes in question. As you must know, Tebeo was quite close to Bertin of Noltierre and Vidor of Tounstrel. But he only met their sons on a few occasions, and the younger men keep their own counsel. Even if Tebeo tried to sway them one way or another-and I’m not certain that he would-I don’t believe they would be moved.”
Evanthya frowned slightly, realizing that she had answered his question after all. She hadn’t sensed him using his powers on her, but the effect had been much the same. She couldn’t decide which notion she found more disturbing, that he might be able to use his magic against her without her knowledge or that he could turn her to his purposes so easily without using any magic at all.
Another gust of wind swept through the ward, making the snow whirl and dance like tiny, frenzied wraiths.
Pronjed cast a look back toward the great hall and the tower from which they had come. “Perhaps we should return. The storm seems to be worsening.”
“Yes. And you’ve learned all that you had hoped from our conversation.”
Pronjed faced her again, his eyes, the color of sand on the Wethy shores, locking on hers. “Do you feel used, First Minister? You shouldn’t. This was a profitable exchange for both of us. You probably know more about the regent’s intentions than any other first minister in Aneira.” A thin smile touched his lips and was gone. “I do hope that you use the knowledge wisely.”
He turned again and started back the way they had come, leaving Evanthya little choice but to follow.
I intend to use it wisely, you bastard. I’ll tell Fetnalla and every other first minister who’ll listen to me. Maybe my duke and I can stop this war after all.
The rest of their visit to Dantrielle went just as Pronjed had anticipated. Or rather, just as the Weaver had said it would. The archminister had ideas of his own as to how they ought to proceed from here, but after nearly destroying the Weaver’s plans with his decision to kill Carden a few turns before, and nearly getting himself killed in the process, Pronjed kept such thoughts to himself. For now at least, he would follow the Weaver’s instructions without deviation. There had been a time when Pronjed believed himself essential to the movement. He knew better now. One day he would assert his influence again-when the Weaver’s plans bore fruit, he would need trusted servants to run the various realms of the new Qirsi empire, and Pronjed had every intention of being one of those fortunate few. But during the next few turns he needed to repair the damage he had done to the Weaver’s trust.
On the third morning since their arrival in Dantrielle, Numar, his small company of soldiers, and the archminister gathered in the castle’s lower ward, mounted their horses, and, accompanied by the duke, duchess, and first minister, began to wend their way through the city streets.
He still sensed a residue of the tension that had clouded much of their stay in Tebeo’s castle, but he could see as well that both Eandi men were trying to end their encounter cordially, Tebeo, no doubt, out of fear of the Solkaran temper, Numar out of his desire to appear reasonable until he had gathered enough power to let his true nature show.
The evening before, after avoiding any discussion of the coming war for more than a day, the regent had returned to the subject once again, asking the duke if he could foresee any circumstances under which Dantrielle might allow its army to join with those of the other houses to wage war against the Eibitharians.
Tebeo’s first minister glanced at Pronjed, looking uncomfortable, as if the question itself had revealed to all the substance of their discussion in the ward. The duke, however, did not appear to notice. He had been sipping from his wine goblet and now he placed it carefully on the table and glared at the regent, firelight reflected in his dark brown eyes.
“With all respect, Lord Renbrere,” the duke said, his voice shaking with anger. “I find your question insulting. It presumes that I would keep my house from fulfilling its duty to the realm and the Crown.”
“I meant no offense, Tebeo, but after our conversation the day I arrived-”
“The men of Dantrielle have fought and died in every war ever waged by this realm,” the duke broke in, leaning forward, his hands resting on the table. “We have acquitted ourselves nobly over the course of Aneira’s history. I would even say admirably, and while I am not a boastful man, my lord, I assure you that I would willingly compare Dantrielle’s performance in this regard with that of any house in the kingdom, including Solkara. For I have every confidence that Dantrielle would not suffer for the comparison.”
At last the duchess laid a hand on Tebeo’s arm. Glancing at her, the duke’s face colored and he sat back, lowering his gaze.
“Forgive me, my lord. I’ve said too much.”
“Not at all, Tebeo. I admire a man of passion. I only wished to know if we could count on you. Obviously, we can.”
The duke continued to stare at his hands. “I must add, my lord, though I risk angering you by doing so, that even as the soldiers of Dantrielle have shown their valor in defense of Aneira, when her dukes have seen the land being led toward a foolish and destructive war, they have never shied from saying so.”
Numar bristled. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“Yes, my lord, it is.”
Abruptly the regent was on his feet. “How dare you speak to me so!”
“You forget, Lord Renbrere, that while you may be regent, I am a duke and you but a marquess. Further, sir, you are in my castle. If you speak to me thus, I will not hesitate to respond in kind.”
The regent straightened, the corner of his mouth turning up in a bitter smirk. “I may be but a marquess, Lord Dantrielle, but I speak for the queen and for House Solkara. I assure you that my words carry as much force as Carden’s ever did.”
The two men stared at each other for some time, and at last it was Tebeo who looked away. “I don’t doubt that they do, my lord. Forgive me if I spoke rashly.”
Numar smiled benignly, but Pronjed saw the satisfaction in his eyes. “As I said, I admire passion, misguided though it might be.”
The meal had almost ended and though both men seemed intent on not allowing the evening to end in anger, it was but a few moments before Numar excused himself from the great hall and returned to his chamber.
He said little to Pronjed as they walked through the corridors and he did not ask the archminister to join him in his quarters before retiring for the night. Pronjed hadn’t been entirely honest with the first minister when they spoke in the ward, but he had meant what he said about Numar’s mistrust of all he did. As far as he could tell, the regent viewed him as Chofya’s man. No doubt he always would.
Numar had the archminister awakened early in the morning, and the regent did not linger long in the castle before departing. The duke and duchess offered to serve them a formal breakfast, but Numar asked only that they be given provisions for their ride back to Solkara.
Tebeo and Numar did not speak as they rode through the streets of Dantrielle. When they reached the gate and dismounted to say their farewells, however, the duke bowed to Numar, then straightened, clearing his throat.
“I hope the good relations Dantrielle has enjoyed with House Solkara will not suffer for my reckless words. I know little of what you and the emperor have discussed, my lord. It was not my place to make judgments.”
“Don’t trouble your mind with it further, Tebeo,” the regent said, though his voice was tight. “Our houses have worked together for centuries, making Aneira great. Surely a friendship as old as that can weather a storm or two.”