Soldiers laughed in the distance. Horses whinnied, and a soft wind rustled the grasses of the moor. But no one in their circle spoke. They stared at him, some with open curiosity, others with distaste, all with some measure of fear.
“You realize,” Marston finally said, “that by admitting as much, you give us little choice but to execute you.”
“I’ll grant, Lord Shanstead, that were you to follow the ancient laws, putting me to death would be your only course. But to say that you have no choice simply isn’t true.”
“The law is clear.”
“The law is asinine,” Tavis said, “as are those who would follow it blindly! Don’t you understand the gift we’ve been given? We’re about to go to war with a Weaver, and we have among us the one man in all the Forelands who can defeat him.” He gave the thane a look of utter contempt. “And all you can think to do is call for his head.”
“A Weaver,” Aindreas muttered, eyeing the Qirsi. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“You spoke to this other Weaver last night,” Marston said, defiant as ever. “Why? And for that matter, how?”
“I entered his dreams. A Weaver can do that with other Qirsi. I tried to kill him by using his own magic against him, but I failed.” He looked at the rest of them. “This other Weaver is coming, and he has far more Qirsi on his side than I do. That’s why it’s so important that we have as large an Eandi army as possible. Now I’m asking all of you to put your hatred aside and make peace with the empire’s men before it’s too late.”
“You’ve known of this Weaver for some time, haven’t you? How else would you have known to seek him out this way?”
“You’re right, Lord Shanstead. I’ve known about him for several turns.”
“And why haven’t you told anyone?”
The gleaner gave a thin smile. “I have, my lord. I just haven’t told you.”
“I’ve known for some time now, Lord Shanstead,” the king said. “I’ve also known that Grinsa is a Weaver. He kept these matters from the rest of you with my consent. If you wish to take issue with that, address your concerns to me, not the gleaner.”
“Am I then to understand, Your Majesty, that you intend to follow this man’s counsel?”
“He’s placed his life in our hands, Marston. He’s offered to wage war against the Weaver on our behalf. And if you had seen what the Weaver did to the woman this man loves, then you’d know, as I do, that he has as much reason as anyone to hate the conspiracy.” Again, he glanced at the others. “As much as I would like to see the empire’s army crushed, I’m inclined to do as the gleaner suggests. But I won’t impose my authority on the rest of you. I’ll leave it to my dukes to vote on the matter, and of course, Your Highness, you and your nobles must do as you see fit.”
“How many Qirsi does this man command?” Olesya asked.
“Two hundred, Your Highness. Perhaps a few more.”
“Two hundred?” Aindreas said, incredulous.
“Do you recall the wind we raised yesterday, Lord Kentigern?” the gleaner asked. “I wove that gale with the power of only two other Qirsi. Imagine what I could do with the shaping power of ten, or the fire magic of fifty. They may be few, but their power is greater than this army alone can withstand.”
“That raises another matter,” Shanstead said. “If Weavers are so powerful, why haven’t you used your magic to help His Majesty win this war? Our realm has been in peril, yet you’ve done little to protect it. You could have ended this threat a long time ago.”
Tavis shook his head again. “Not without revealing to all that he’s a Weaver. And not without destroying the Braedony army, which is just what he seeks to avoid.”
“That’s Qirsi logic, Lord Curgh. I believe this man has you ensorcelled, and he wishes to do the same to the rest of us.”
Before Tavis could answer, Kearney turned to the boy’s father. “Lord Curgh, what say you about all this? Surely you’ve formed an opinion of this man who’s been traveling the Forelands with your son.”
“I have, Your Majesty. I trust him with Tavis’s life, and I trust him in this as well. We should make peace with the enemy and enlist their help against the Qirsi.”
Shanstead shook his head violently. “This is madness!”
“I’ll take that as a vote against suing for peace, Lord Shanstead.”
“I must agree with the thane, my liege,” said the duke of Labruinn. “I’m not questioning the gleaner’s loyalty, but I can’t abide making peace with the invaders.”
“I understand, Caius. Lord Tremain, what about you?”
“The Qirsi are the real threat, my liege. We should end this war.”
“Lord Kentigern?”
Aindreas pressed his lips in a thin line, looking first at the Qirsi, and then at Tavis and his father. Emotions chased one another across his broad face-rage, hatred, deepest sorrow, and something else Diani couldn’t quite name. At last he closed his eyes. “Join with the empire’s men. Defeating the Qirsi is everything.”
The king eyed him for some time, nodding slowly. “That can’t have been easy, Lord Kentigern. You have my thanks.”
Aindreas looked away without a response.
“Swordmaster,” the king said to a tall, bald man, “your lord is dead, and his son as well. You speak for the House of Heneagh now. What say you?”
The man shuffled his feet, clearly discomfited by the question.
“It’s all right, Rab. Your duke would want you to speak your mind.”
“They invaded our land, Your Majesty. How could they ever be our allies?”
The king frowned. “Of course, swordmaster. I understand.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Kearney sighed, rubbing a hand across his brow. “Damn.”
Caius gave a small shrug. “Your vote tips the balance, Your Majesty.”
“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that.”
“But it has,” the queen said. “I feel quite certain that my nobles would also be divided, but I believe we must make peace with the empire’s men, and so that’s what we’ll do. I admire you for asking your nobles, Your Majesty, but this is a king’s decision, and I suggest you treat it as such.”
Kearney straightened, and for just a moment, Diani thought he would grow angry. Instead he grinned. “I’ve long heard it said that Sanbiri steel was the strongest in the Forelands. It seems Sanbiri queens and Sanbiri swords are forged in the same fires.”
Diani had to smile, though she wasn’t certain how she felt about all this. Her land hadn’t been invaded, and so her hatred of the empire didn’t match that of Marston and the others. Still, she had little desire to ally herself with the emperor, and she couldn’t quite bring herself to trust this Qirsi, even though he had taken a great risk by revealing himself as a Weaver.
“Gershon,” the king said, turning to his master of arms, “prepare a flag of truce. I’ll ride forward with Her Majesty, if she’ll be so kind as to join me.” He paused, looking to Olesya, who nodded her assent. “Grinsa, I’d like you with me as well.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
“Is there anyone else you care to bring, Your Highness?” Gershon asked.
“No. I daresay the three of us can handle this.”
“You’ll need guards, Your Majesty.”
“We’ll have a Weaver with us, Gershon. I’m sure we’ll be safe.”
The swordmaster didn’t look pleased, but neither did he argue the point.
“It’s decided then,” Kearney said. “The rest of you ready your armies, just in case this doesn’t work.”
Diani looked to the queen, who gave a small reassuring smile before walking off with Kearney and the gleaner. The duchess had no army here, and was at a loss as to what to do next. Turning, she saw Abeni and the other Sanbiri ministers hurrying off by themselves. She would have liked to follow, but before she could, she heard someone calling to her.
Marston of Shanstead was walking toward her, his expression grim. “May I have a word please, my lady?”
Masking her impatience, she made herself smile. “Of course, Lord Shanstead. How may I help you?”
He looked around quickly, as if to be certain that no one else could hear. “I sense, my lady, that you and I are of one mind when it comes to trusting these Qirsi. Am I right?”