“Why you?” Sertio demanded. “You’ve never been to war, and as good as you are with steel, you’re not accomplished enough to guard the queen’s life. You should be in Curlinte, with your people and your army. I’ll accompany the queen.”
She should have been grateful. He was trying to protect her, as any good father would. But she heard only his challenge, his questioning of her abilities and her judgment.
“No, Father. You can’t do this. Whoever goes with the queen must be able to spot the traitor before he or she strikes. And you’re just too trusting. What good is steel if it never leaves its sheath?”
His face shaded to crimson, and he leveled a rigid finger at her chest. “Just because-”
“Stop it!” Olesya glared at them both. “I haven’t even said yet that I’ll allow one of you to accompany me, and already you’re fighting over which of you will be riding.”
“She has no place in this war, Your Highness. Better you should go without either of us than take her. You can just as easily have one of your men keep watch on the Qirsi.”
“I believe you do her a disservice, Sertio. You love her; you fear for her. I understand that.” She paused, looking at the duchess. “You must understand that, too, Diani. What he said a moment ago was intended not to diminish you, but to protect you. You may have felt slighted, but until you’re a parent yourself, you shouldn’t judge your father too harshly.”
“Your Highness-”
“Let me finish, Sertio. I know that you want to keep her safe, but she’s not a girl anymore. She’s a woman, and with Dalvia gone, she is duchess of one of Sanbira’s leading houses. The attack at the coast has left you frightened, and rightfully so. But you can’t let your life, or Diani’s, be ruled by fear. Would you have her lock herself away within the walls of her castle so that no arrows can find her, no traitors can strike at her?”
His cheeks still red, Sertio shook his head and muttered, “Of course not.”
“Then let her do this. I think it a fine idea. The two of you have been watching Abeni and the others for some time now; it makes sense that Diani should continue to do so.” Diani’s father still did not look mollified. “I’ll take good care of her, Sertio. You have my word, not only as your queen, but as your friend.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Again they bowed to the queen, before leaving the chamber. Even after they were in the corridor, Sertio said nothing and for a time they walked in silence back toward their chambers on the far end of the inner keep. Only when they reached Diani’s door did her father finally look at her, his face like stone.
“You truly think me too trusting?”
“Father-”
“Do you?”
She took a breath. “Sometimes, yes.”
“And you believe this weakens me.”
“You’re a good man, Father, and a strong leader. You have fine qualities, among them your capacity to trust and the loyalty you show your friends. I just believe that some gifts, no matter how bright, have a dark side as well.”
“You may be right. And certainly the queen was correct when she said that I wish to keep you safe. But the real reason I don’t want you making this journey is that I fear your suspicions will get the better of you. I believe you want to accompany the queen for the same reason you imprisoned all the Qirsi in Curlinte. The attempts on your life have made you so frightened that you can no longer distinguish friend from foe, at least where the white-hairs are concerned. I may trust too willingly, but you see treachery behind every pair of yellow eyes. Tell me, Diani. Which is the darker gift?”
He left her then, and long after the click of his boots on the stone floors had faded to nothing, Diani still stood there, her hand poised on the door handle, her throat so tight she could hardly draw breath.
It took more than the suspicions of a queen and the prejudice of her small-minded nobles to keep Abeni ja Krenta, Sanbira’s archminister, from knowing all that happened in Castle Yserne. Though it had been more than a turn since Olesya had trusted her with any important task or confided in her in any meaningful way, there were those in the castle who still did her bidding, because they feared the influence she once had wielded and might someday wield again, or because they feared her magic, or because, like Abeni herself, they served the Weaver’s movement. She wasn’t without her own resources, her own servants. If it was possible for an Eandi to cast a pale shadow, then that was Abeni. White-skinned, white-haired, she was a counterpart to the queen. Perhaps her power didn’t reach as far as Olesya’s-yet-but she commanded a force of her own within the walls of this palace.
She herself had seen the messenger arrive, had watched as the castle guards fell over themselves to escort this man to Olesya’s chambers. Soon after, she left her chamber to wander the corridors. The Qirsi master who trained her in the use of her magic, as well as in the ways of the Eandi courts, had once said that a person could learn much of what happened in a castle simply by walking through its passages and gardens. “The walls of a castle will whisper secrets to you, if only you listen closely enough,” she liked to say. Again and again over the years, Abeni had found this to be true. Just as she did this day. Once in the corridors, she saw several of the other nobles scurrying like mice to the queen’s chambers. She overheard two guards speaking of a missive from a king, of war to the north. So she wasn’t at all surprised later in the day when another soldier approached her to say that the queen wished to speak with her.
She found Olesya in her presence chamber sitting in the ornate olivewood chair at the end of her council table. The queen appeared composed; if the tidings contained in the messenger’s note had shaken her, she showed no sign of it now. It seemed to Abeni a sign of how deep Olesya’s mistrust ran; she had never bothered to mask her fears or concerns from the archminister in the past.
Abeni bowed, and the queen indicated a chair at the table with an open hand.
“Please sit, Archminister.”
“Thank you, Your Highness. You called for me?”
“I did. You may have heard of a messenger arriving here today.”
“Yes, I did, though beyond the fact of his arrival, I’ve heard nothing.”
“He came from Eibithar.”
She’d guessed that much, but she allowed surprise to register on her face. “Eibithar?”
“Yes, from Kearney himself. It seems that the Braedon fleet is menacing Eibithar’s north coast. At the same time, there’s been some movement of Aneiran soldiers along the Tarbin.” She paused, eyeing Abeni, as if waiting for some response.
“Kearney fears an attack?” the archminister asked.
“Yes. For all we know, there’s already war on the Eibitharian Moorlands.”
This was the Weaver’s work. The realization came to her so suddenly, with such force, that she knew it had to be true. The last time he walked in her dreams, the Weaver had told her that all their planning was nearly at an end, that the Forelands would soon be theirs. No doubt this war was another attempt-perhaps the culminating one-to weaken the armies of the Eandi courts.
“Kearney has asked me to send warriors to help him meet the emperor’s assault. In return, he offers Eibithar’s aid in our fight against the conspiracy.”
Her expression neutral, her voice even, Abeni said, “He must know that you’ll refuse.”
“Why do you say that?”
And she knew. The queen would ride to war within the next few days. These were indeed extraordinary times.
“Sanbiri queens have avoided war alliances for centuries. I merely assumed that you would do the same.”
“In truth, I had every intention of refusing. But several of the duchesses argued for going to war, as did Edamo.”
This time, Abeni’s surprise was genuine. “Lord Brugaosa? Arguing in favor of going to war?” It was almost too good to be true. She felt quite certain that this was what the Weaver wanted. The wider the conflict, the better for the movement. Edamo and the others were just the fools the Weaver had hoped they would be.