Kathryn mounted the single step to the raised stage. She ignored the woman.
“Castellan Vail,” Liannora continued, “we understand the dangers that have beset Tashijan, and we all here want to help in any manner we can. Toward that end, what we propose-”
“Propose?” Kathryn snapped as she turned. “What I propose, with all respect, Mistress Liannora, is that you take your seat. This meeting was not called to listen to your arguments but for you all to better understand the plight of your situation. While Tashijan values your knowledge and skills in regards to handling humours, there are no gods here. It is skill with sword, or mastery of alchemy, that is most needed.”
Liannora’s features brittled even harder. She kept her feet. Perhaps for no other reason than that she might snap in half if she sat. “Warden Fields has given me his word that we would be heard here.” She glanced down her table. “Is that not so?”
Murmurs of agreement acknowledged the same.
So the woman had been a plague not only upon Kathryn. Argent must have been equally assaulted, but the warden had somewhere to push the complaints-back at Kathryn.
“What is it that you propose, then, Mistress Liannora?”
“We believe that as representatives of gods that bless the First Land and its distinguished neighbors we should be more involved with the defenses here. Not left to languish in our rooms. We have no desire to hide, or worse yet, run from our duty to Myrillia…like craven cowards.”
She stressed this last word. Kathryn had heard the same word being spread by the Fiery Cross. Tylar’s flight from Tashijan was seen by many as abandonment, or worse yet, outright spinelessness. It was plain on which side of the fence Liannora had decided to stand. The woman had an uncanny ability to sense the flows of power and to bend them to her advantage. Kathryn remembered her earlier flatteries; those had turned to insolence at about the same time Kathryn had been banned from the fieldroom. Liannora had recognized the ascendancy of the Fiery Cross and sided with their arguments and slights.
“I have yet to hear your proposal,” Kathryn said. “Do you wish to take up swords yourself and defend the stairs?”
Liannora dismissed her words with a flutter of an arm. “Certainly not. Our strengths lie in our keen experience and expertise. We would wish no more than to be ready with a suggestion, to act as counsel to those that wage our defenses. To be represented and involved in the stratagems.”
Kathryn’s brow crinkled.
“I’ve discussed it with my fellow Hands,” Liannora continued, nodding to her table. “And we think it only best that we cast stones amongst ourselves and proffer one of our own to join those in the fieldroom who truly defend these towers.”
A slight cocking of the woman’s eyebrow accentuated the insult, directed at both Kathryn and the departed regent.
Kathryn did not rise to the bait. Instead, she found herself bemused by the woman’s posturing. Delia had warned her about the Hand, cautioned against underestimating her cunning and lust for power. If Argent had been born a woman, here he would stand.
Kathryn lifted her hand yet again. “I encourage you to cast your stones. I think it wise that you select one amongst you to represent all. It would certainly expedite matters of communication.”
Liannora bowed her head, accepting the compliment with poised humility.
“But,” Kathryn went on. “The warden certainly would not allow any but the heads of Tashijan to attend his meetings in the fieldroom.”
Kathryn offered a look of apology. Let Argent deal with the woman if her ire was piqued.
“Oh,” Liannora said, straightening with an arch glint in her eye, “I’ve already discussed the matter with Warden Fields. He concurs and invites our participation.”
Kathryn gaped for a moment, taken aback. Why would Argent allow-? Then she knew. What better way to further humiliate Kathryn? To be banished while the likes of Liannora were allowed entry.
Liannora stepped into her silence, addressing the others. “So with all in agreement, we will cast stones.” She glanced to Kathryn. “If you’d be so kind as to count the tally, it would be most appreciated.”
Kathryn had no choice but to concede, having been artfully manipulated into this position.
The Hand from Foulsham Dell stood up, clearing phlegm from his throat with a grousing hack. He teetered slightly on his heels, plainly soused. His purple cloak and shirt must have been selected to hide the spill of wine down his paunch of a belly.
“I think there can be no doubt who should represent us.” He bowed with exaggerated flourish. “Mistress Liannora has shown herself to be of ample skill and of quick mind. Hear, hear!” He called to his table, raising an imaginary goblet. “Bring on the stones!”
At the other table, Porace Neel of Moor Eld gained his feet with a groan, supporting the crook in his back. “And I propose Mistress Delia. All know her and hold her in genuine esteem. She is wiser than the whole lot of us.”
A few at her table rapped knuckles on the board, agreeing.
Not so at Liannora’s table.
“I’m sure Mistress Delia would prefer to avoid such a burden,” Liannora said. “All know the tension between warden and daughter. And dare I say, we must acknowledge here that Mistress Delia is not in fact the handservant of a god, but only a man.”
Delia stood. “For the good of Tashijan, I am more than willing to set aside such tensions.”
“And as we had all gathered here to honor that man,” Kathryn added, “to acknowledge his rightful place as both knight and regent, I certainly don’t think we can cast Mistress Delia in a lesser light.”
Liannora stared at Kathryn and read her resolve.
The woman dipped her chin. “Of course.”
With only the two names proffered, it did not take long to cast stones. Each Hand placed a stone into the bag: white for Liannora, black for Delia.
The bag was brought to Kathryn. In short order she tallied the count and announced the result. “We have an equal number of stones for each.”
Liannora hid her disappointment behind pursed lips. Delia merely kept her arms crossed.
“Are there any here who would wish to change the cast of their stones?” Kathryn asked.
No hands were raised.
“Then I see no other recourse as castellan of Tashijan than to declare it an even match. Since the warden has so wisely chosen to expand his council, then what better way to acknowledge his wisdom than to send him two from our assembly? Mistress Liannora and Mistress Delia.”
Liannora wore a momentary expression of irritation, but the look swept away just as quickly, replaced with a feigned smile of acceptance as the others congratulated her.
Delia met Kathryn’s eye, offering her own smile. For days, they had been cut out of the strategies waged in the fieldroom. Now Argent had unwittingly opened the door again.
After all the well wishes had been passed around, the Hands departed to spread the word among the others. Delia paused to touch Kathryn’s arm.
“I will pass on your greetings to my father.”
“Please do.”
Liannora waited at the door, plainly wishing to speak with Delia. If there were any match for that woman, it was Delia. Kathryn waited until the room was empty to step out into the hall.
She found a welcome figure waiting, leaned against a wall. Another of their dejected party. Master Hesharian had had her friend officially sanctioned for his participation in the subterfuge atop Stormwatch. She was surprised to find him here.
“Gerrod?”
He straightened and fell in step beside her. “I heard word of the ploy being set up here. Master Hesharian was never one to keep silent with his gossip-especially if it involved the humiliation of another. And I still have secret allies among his inner circle. Oh, you should have heard what was said when it was discovered that not only had Tylar escaped but he had taken their only weapon against seersong.”