Derwyn shook his head. “No, not as of the last report.”
“That is because there were no engagements,” Laera said, “at least, not with your troops. They went into the Shadow World, intent on finding a portal to your coastal region, but something went wrong. They came out in the Seamist Mountains and were attacked by ogres. And then when they went back into the Shadow World, they fought another battle, this time with the undead.”
“How unfortunate,” said Arwyn with a grim little smile. “I take it the casualties were heavy?”
“Apparently,” said Laera. “I do not know how great their losses were, but it seems they were significant. Michael came back very much depressed. I do not recall when I’ve seen his spirits sink so low. The troops looked utterly exhausted and disorganized. If there was ever a good time for you to march upon Anuire, then this it.”
“Indeed, it would seem so,” Arwyn concurred. “You have done well, Laera. Very well, indeed.”
“Just remember your promise,” she told him.
“I remember,” he replied. “I shall keep my end of the bargain. See to it that you keep yours.”
“You may count on it,” she said. She glanced at the wizard. “I am ready now.”
Callador raised his arms and spoke an incantation. The whirling smoke appeared behind Laera in the circle once again. She turned and went back through the misty tunnel. Derwyn watched her walk away, disappearing into the smoke, and then it dissipated, and she was gone.
Callador took his staff and held it out before him. He walked around the circle in the opposite direction to the one in which he’d drawn it, clearing it, then blew out his candle stubs, picked them up, moistened his thumb and forefinger and pinched the wicks to make sure they were out, put them in his robe, turned, and walked away.
“Wait,” said Derwyn.
Callador paused and turned around.
“What about those herbs you sprinkled on the floor? And the chalk-marked circle?”
“A broom and a scrub brush should do adequately,” the old wizard replied flatly. Then he turned and left the hall.
Derwyn snorted. “The least he could do was clean up after himself.”
“Never mind,” his father said. “The servants will see to it.”
“If we can find one who will not fear to come near that thing,” said Derwyn.
“They will fear me more if they do not,” said Arwyn. “Forget the circle. I swear, sometimes I think you should have been born a woman. Haelyn knows, you’re fussy enough. We have far more important matters to consider. The Pretender will be vulnerable now. As Laera said, the time is right.”
“And you trust her?” Derwyn said.
“Oh, yes. I trust her.”
“By all the gods, why? She’s Michael’s sister! Why should she betray Anuire?”
“Because she seeks revenge,” his father said. “And I trust her desire to get it.”
“Revenge? On Michael?”
“No, on Dosiere. She claims he raped her.”
“Aedan?” Derwyn was shocked. “A rapist? I don’t believe it!”
“For that matter, neither did I,” his father replied dryly. “I never cared much for his father, but the boy was a good lad. One should always check one’s sources, and I had some of our people in Anuire make a few inquiries. With enough drink in him, one of the Roele House Guard admitted knowledge that Laera and Dosiere had an affair. Right here, in fact, during the last Summer Court, under my very nose. It seems she had a habit of stealing into his room at night, wearing nothing but her bedclothes, and staying nearly until morning. That hardly sounds like rape to me.”
“Aedan and the Princess Laera?” Derwyn said with astonishment.
“The passions of youth,” his father said. “She probably seduced him. I had all the palace staff questioned, and several of them admitted knowing of it. They had no proof, of course, which they claimed was why they never reported it to me. It was merely palace gossip, and they feared recriminations. I reassured them I was not interested in either proof or punishment, just what they’d heard or suspected. Several of them admitted hearing of it from the guards. Two of the housemaids found stains on young Dosiere’s bed sheets, which is not incriminating in itself, of course, but bears weight when added to the rest. And one of the grooms reported hearing quite a row between them in the stables. He claimed not to know what it was about. He was not close enough to make out what they said—or so he claimed—but it appears they had a falling-out, and she bears him a grudge for it. My guess is that Dosiere finally came to his senses and ended it. And there is nothing more spiteful than a woman who’s been spumed.”
“But to betray her own people …”
“She cares nothing for anyone except herself,” said Arwyn. “She is selfish, willful, arrogant, and spoiled, a spiteful, vicious little twit. I never really liked her. I would have much preferred her mother. But in denying me the empress, Lord Tieran also spared me the task of marrying her daughter. I thought if I could not have the mother, I would bolster my claim with Laera as my wife. I was furious with him for interfering with my plans, but I suppose I should probably be grateful to Tieran, rest his sanctimonious, self-righteousness soul.”
“This promise that she spoke of,” Derwyn said, “what did she mean? Did she bargain with you to spare Michael’s life?”
Arwyn snorted. “He didn’t even enter into it. She cares nothing about what happens to him.”
Derwyn frowned. “So then, what was the nature of the bargain?”
“She had but two demands in exchange for her cooperation. The first was that she decides the fate of Aedan Dosiere.”
“And the second?”
“She is, of course, concerned about her own fate, as well,” his father replied wryly. “She wanted to ensure rank and position for herself under the coming regime. Our little princess has no wish to step down in station.”
Derwyn’s eyes grew wide. “Surely, you don’t mean to tell me you promised to honor your original betrothal?” he said with dismay.
“Of course not,” said his father. “I promised her she could marry you.”
3
It had been a long time since Aedan had been back to the Green Basilisk Tavern, but tonight, he felt in the need of some strong drink and some company outside the palace. At the Imperial Cairn, there were always demands on his time, always at least a dozen things that required his attention, from routine matters having to do with the running of the household to correspondence and dispatches from distant provinces—one noble or another making entreaties to the emperor—matters of strategy and policy having to do with the war against Boeruine. However, there was nothing so important that it could not wait till morning. His staff was well trained to handle matters in his absence, and if anything urgent did happen to come up, such as the emperor’s requiring his presence, he had left word where he could be found. He did not think the emperor would require his presence tonight.
They had returned to the capital late in the afternoon, as the shadows lengthened in the plazas of Anuire. The streets had all been eerily silent as the weary troops trudged back to the parade ground by the docks, where they drilled regularly and assembled to go out on campaigns. A lot of people had turned out to watch the army as it marched through the city. They lined the route all the way to the parade ground, but no one cheered their arrival. When they saw the condition of the troops, they just stood silently and watched with grim faces, many of them scanning the ranks as they went by, searching for loved ones. Too many of those faces would be twisted with grief tonight, thought Aedan. Too many wives, mothers, and children would be crying for the men who had not returned.
After the troops had been dismissed from the parade ground and they had broken up to go back to their homes or their barracks, Aedan had returned to the palace with the emperor and some of the other nobles, such as young Viscounts Ghieste and Alam, whose rank—and hostage status, though that was never mentioned—gave them comfortable quarters at the Carin. Michael had retired to his rooms, saying he did not wish to be disturbed. All the way back from the Spiderfell, right up until the time they disembarked the boats at the Imperial Cairn, he had spoken not a word, brooding all the while. In a war that had its share of defeats as well as victories, this campaign had been the most disastrous yet, and Michael blamed himself.