“What is it, Mother?” Renald the Younger asked. He was the image of his father, straight and thin as a blade, with unruly red hair and bright blue eyes. But he had Elspeth’s strength and nerve, and he looked eager for battle. “Braedon’s men again?”
“Not this time,” she said, ushering them all toward the doorway.
“Then who?”
“I bet it’s the Qirsi.”
She stopped for just an instant, staring at Adler, who had spoken. He was still a year shy of his Determining, but already he showed signs of being the cleverest of them all.
“What makes you say that?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Who else would it be, if it’s not the empire?”
“I’m scared, Mother,” Rory said.
She put an arm around him and kissed the top of his head. “Hush, child. Everything will be all right. Just come with me and do as I say. Can you do that?”
He nodded solemnly.
She urged them forward once more, stopping on the threshold to look back at the prelate.
“Thank you, Father Prelate. Ean keep you safe.”
“And you, my lady.”
She tried to smile, but failed, certain in that moment that she would never again see the man alive.
A moment later, fear for her sons overmastered all other concerns, and she was again in the corridors, hurrying the boys along toward the nearest of the sally ports. Everywhere she looked soldiers ran toward gates or towers, many with bows and quivers filled with arrows, others with swords and gleaming shields.
“Where are you taking us?” Renald asked, a frown creasing his smooth brow.
“Away from here.”
He stopped. “No! In Father’s absence I lead our house! I can’t flee, like a child or a woman!”
Elspeth gritted her teeth. She hadn’t time for this.
“Your father would be very proud,” she said thickly. “But he’d also tell you that you can’t fight this enemy.”
“Why not?” the boy demanded, proud, stubborn, defiant. Hadn’t she nurtured these very qualities, trying to make him more like his grandfather, more like her?
“Because this army is Qirsi. They’ll destroy this castle, and they’ll kill all who defend it.”
“I’m not afraid of dying.”
But I’m afraid of losing you! She remembered what it was to be this young, though the memory seemed to grow dimmer with each passing day.
“I know how brave you are,” she said, forcing a smile. “How brave all three of you are. It makes me very proud. But the fact is that all of you are still boys. Even you, Renald,” she said, raising a hand to keep him silent. “You’ve another year until your Fating, which means that you can’t yet lead this house, not even in your father’s absence. That responsibility falls to me, and I’m commanding you to follow me.” The smile returned for just an instant. “I need you to protect me, as well as your brothers. Father would tell you that your first duty is to our family.”
He stared at her a moment longer, his mouth twisting as it always had when he was deep in thought. Surely the Qirsi ship had reached the port by now. She wanted to grab the boy’s arm and pull him along behind her as she might a child half his age, but she knew how important it was that Renald accept this for himself.
“All right,” he said at last, reluctantly sheathing his sword.
“Come on then. We haven’t much time.”
They continued on to the sally port at the southern end of the fortress. The south gate road wasn’t the quickest way to the sanctuary, but it kept them a good distance from the pier and, Elspeth hoped, offered them their best chance of eluding the Qirsi.
By the time they were outside, however, the duchess could hear screams coming from the city, and before they were off Galdasten Tor, she could see the first of the white-hairs advancing on the castle. It occurred to her that she should have had them all change into plainer clothes, but by then it was too late.
“Hold, Duchess!” came a man’s voice.
The distance was great, but Elspeth didn’t know how far Qirsi magic could reach. She resisted an urge to look back at the white-hairs.
“Just keep moving,” she told the boys, her voice low and taut.
“Not another step, my lady!” the man called again, closer this time, the tone harder.
Still she didn’t slow.
Suddenly, a stone just beside the road exploded in a cloud of white dust, the report making her jump.
“Another step, and I do the same to one of you.”
Elspeth stopped, holding out a hand so that her sons would do the same. Turning slowly, she saw a tall Qirsi approaching her, followed by a company of perhaps two dozen sorcerers. But it was the leader who drew her eye. She had never seen a Qirsi like this one-comparing him in her mind with Pillad, her husband’s unremarkable first minister, she found it hard to believe that they were of the same race. This man was powerfully built and had an elegant bearing. He was even handsome in a chilling way, with his unruly white hair, brilliant golden eyes, and square face. He had the look of a noble-she could see why these others followed him.
Before she could stop the boy, Renald pulled his sword free and stepped in front of her.
“Get back, white-hair,” he said. Elspeth could see his hand trembling.
A sharp, ringing note echoed off the tor, and shards of steel fell to the ground, clattering off the stone road.
“I could do the same to your skull, whelp,” the man said. He gestured at the Qirsi standing with him. “So could any of my warriors. You may think yourself brave, but in this case you’d be wise to let fear stay your hand.”
Her son’s face shaded to crimson and Elspeth worried that he might say something rash. But he merely stared at the useless hilt of his sword.
“Your husband rode south with his army?” the man asked.
Elspeth regarded him for several moments. She wasn’t about to do anything foolish, but neither was she ready to just give him whatever information he wanted. “Who are you?”
The man grinned, though the look in his eyes remained deadly serious. “Very well. My name is Dusaan jal Kania.”
She narrowed her eyes. The name sounded familiar.
“Until recently, I was high chancellor to the emperor of Braedon.” His smile broadened at what he saw on her face. “This surprises you. Perhaps you think that a man in my position would have too little to gain and too much to lose from a movement such as ours.”
Elspeth opened her mouth, closed it again, shook her head. “I don’t know what I thought,” she admitted.
“It may also surprise you to learn that I’m a Weaver.”
“Gods save us all!”
“Indeed. Now I’m going to ask you again, and I won’t be so patient this time if you refuse to answer. Has the duke ridden south with his army?”
She hesitated, pressing her lips together. Then she nodded, feeling as she did that she was betraying her husband, wondering that she should care.
“And the first minister with him?”
“Yes, he-” She stared at him. “Pillad’s a traitor, isn’t he? He’s part of your conspiracy.”
The predatory smile returned. “As you might imagine, we don’t think of ourselves as traitors. But yes, he serves our movement.”
“I warned him,” she said, her voice low. “But the fool just wouldn’t listen.” The duchess nearly asked the man what orders he had given Pillad, but she wasn’t certain that she wanted to hear his answer, at least not in front of her children. Just a short time ago she had wished for Renald’s death. Faced now with the realization that he most likely would be killed, she found herself grieving for him, her eyes stinging with tears she had never believed she would shed.
“I see you understand,” he said.
“Understand what?” Renald the Younger demanded. He glared at her. “Mother?”
She ignored him, keeping her eyes on the Weaver. “What is it you want of us?”
“You’re to accompany us back to the castle and convince your soldiers to surrender the castle.”