“Yes,” Chancellor Berle said, walking over to where the food and drink sat on the table. She picked up a chalice and poured wine into it. “I want to hear why we should still believe the ambassador’s professions of goodwill and safety.” She pulled a chair up to the table and, sitting down, began to fill a plate with cheese, bread and grapes.
I hung back as the rest moved to join her, but Uncle Havram took one arm, Captain Suiden grabbed the other, and from behind Jeff herded me over to a chair and I was pushed down into it.
Laurel sat down on the opposite side of the table between Chancellor Berle and Vice Admiral Havram, leaning his staff against his chair as he kept his eyes on mine. Falkin moved to stand behind the vice admiral, his gray gaze fixed on the cat.
“Well, Ambassador?” Havram asked.
“As I said, this is no game.”
“Then what is it?” Suiden asked, standing behind me, Javes and Esclaur on either side of him.
“There are two main factions in the Border, honored folk—those who want war,” Laurel said without looking away from me, “and we who want peace.” Honor Ash’s haunt floated to his side and stood also watching me.
“War because of the smuggling?” Chancellor Berle asked, sipping her wine.
“Among other things, yes,” Laurel replied.
“What other things?” Esclaur asked.
“The fact that Iversterre was once ours, being one,” Laurel said. “Many feel it only right that it should be ours once again.” He ran his paw over his head, still looking at me. “They’ve seized upon the running as a rallying cry and are ready with detailed battle plans so that this time there’d be no premature fracturing of the Alliance as there was in the last war.”
“Fracturing?” the chancellor asked, picking up a slice of cheese and laying it on a piece of bread.
“The Alliance fell apart after Iversterre sued for peace because no one could agree on what to do next,” Laurel replied, glancing at the chancellor. He then looked back at me. “However, your honored father did speak before the High Council, Rabbit. He was most eloquent in his pleas for diplomacy, and enough members were swayed to agree that I should be sent to Iversterre to perhaps find a peaceful solution.”
“Which was to comb the mountains over Freston until you found me?” I asked.
Laurel sighed. “The Magus has many friends on the Council, and when he saw which way the vote would go, he got them to make your return a condition for considering peace.”
I shook my head, for the first time feeling something other than numbing anger. “But why? I’m just a farm boy from the backwoods and surely not the first apprentice to slip his master’s bonds. Why all this trouble just to get me back?”
“How many mages were there, Rabbit?” Laurel asked.
“What?”
“How many mages did Kareste have with him in the Fyrst’s hall?”
“Nine,” I said, after a moment’s count.
“Ten altogether, with the Magus. All full master mages, no? None were apprentices or even senior journeymen.”
I nodded, my brows coming together.
“Yet you shrugged their combined working off as if it were a mere annoyance,” Laurel pointed out. “Just as you did the first time when they came seeking you.”
I frowned deeper at him.
“At the embassy in Iversly,” Laurel reminded me. “You are very powerful, Rabbit. Very, very powerful.”
“All right, I’m powerful. But as I said back on the ship, the Council wasting time by sending you after me doesn’t make sense, Faena.” I waved a hand at the haunts around us. “Not if they wanted to stop the slaughter.”
“Yes, I know,” Laurel said.
“You know,” I echoed, and then gave a short laugh. “Maybe I’m not the only dupe here.”
Laurel rumbled. “I have admitted that there were things kept from me—”
“No! Really? How that must rankle, honored Faena.”
“So, Ambassador,” Uncle Havram said, breaking into Laurel’s increasing growl. “You were sent by the High Council, as a favor to this Maggot—”
“Magus,” Laurel said.
“—to find Rabbit.” My uncle’s brow rose. “But if he was so hidden from everyone, how did you know where he was?”
“Mages aren’t the only ones with the talent, honored vice admiral. As I told Rabbit, I tracked him.” Laurel rooted around in his side pouch, pulling out a small wooden horse with faint chew marks where a teething child had gnawed on it. I grew still as Honor Ash’s haunt ran a ghostly finger over it.
“Your father gave it to me—” Laurel began.
“My da?” I asked, the numb feeling stealing over me again.
“His father helped you to find his son for a master that his son fled from in abhorrence?” Chancellor Berle asked, refilling her chalice. “What a family—” She broke off as she caught the vice admiral’s stare.
“No,” Laurel said, “not for the Magus.” The cat’s face softened. “And it wasn’t just your father, Rabbit, but your entire family, plus Brother Paedrig, Dragoness Moraina, and Honor Ash.” Laurel waved a paw back at the sprite’s haunt. “It was she who remembered your toy.”
“Gifted?” Havram asked looking at the wooden horse, and the haunt smiled.
“Moraina did choose each jewel used to buy your indentures, Rabbit, from her hoard—and she hummed as she did so,” Laurel said, his brows crooking as his head tilted to the side. “Honor did wish me good hunting.” The haunt’s smile widened. “Brother Paedrig insisted on praying over me, even though I’m not of your church. And your family—” Laurel shook his head, his beads rattling. “Bring him home, they said. Bring him home, safe.”
The room blurred and I looked away. “You could’ve told me.”
“Yes,” Laurel said, with another sigh. “I could have.”
“All along you’ve said ‘Trust me’ and ‘My oath to you,’ ” I said. “How can I?” I took a deep breath, still feeling the pain of being laid open to the bone. “Why should I?”
“I was afraid, Rabbit,” Laurel said, “that if I told you, you wouldn’t come, and that amid accusations of interference with your indentures, we would lose the chance for peace.”
“But you’ve been accused,” Lord Esclaur said, “and the Maggot—”
“Magus,” Laurel said.
“—does not have Rabbit, so will there be war?”
“Why?” Laurel opened his eyes wide at the lordling. “I kept my word in bringing Lord Rabbit back to the Border and, regardless what Kareste has said, I did not meddle with his apprentice’s bindings. It was the Fyrst’s decision to remove him from the Magus’ care.” Laurel shook his head. “Killing birds. Shameful!”
“And you had nothing to do with it,” Javes murmured.
“Oh, no. The Magus managed to do that all on his own,” Laurel said, showing his eyeteeth. He then looked at me and his grin faded. “Rabbit—”
“Why don’t you want Iversterre back, Ambassador?” Chancellor Berle asked.
Laurel sighed once more and, looking away from me to the chancellor, shrugged. “We don’t need it.” He saw the incredulous stares aimed at him. “We don’t. We feed ourselves and export our surplus, we have thriving industries, we have a brisk trade with the Qarant, among others. We prosper, honored folk. War tends to change that.”
“Even if you win?” Javes asked, his voice dry.
“We won the last time and it nearly pulled us apart, squabbling over who gets what.” Laurel shook his head again, beads clacking and feathers fluttering. “No, no, and three times no. We do not need you or your land. We have more than enough here.” His ears flicked back. “Besides, all we have to do is wait because, as you turn fae, you will surely need us.”
I stood up while everyone was busy working on that statement. “It’s been a long day, sirs. I’m going to retire.” I saluted and headed for a doorway, chosen at random.