So, she hadn't missed what her mother had done, binding herself to her lifebonded's fate. And she wasn't blinded to Randale's condition by her love of him. There was resignation in her mind-voice, and a sadness as profound as if her parents were already gone.
The door behind him creaked again, and Treven looked up and smiled. Vanyel started to get up, but Jisa pushed him back down into his chair with her hands on his shoulders.
“No you don't, Uncle Van. There's enough Healer in me to know how tired you are.” She kissed him on the top of his head, and Sent
She sat down beside Treven. “Both of us; I'm here as Mother's proxy. I have been ever since late fall.”
“And doing very well at it, too.” Jisa had left the door open, and the rest of the Council filed in, taking their usual seats. The Seneschal had said that last, and he stopped on the way to his seat at the head of the table, pausing with his hands on the back of Jisa's chair. His inflection told Vanyel he meant the compliment; there was nothing paternalistic or condescending in his voice. “I frankly don't know what we would have done without her earlier this fall; We had a situation with someone who claimed to be a high-ranking Karsite refugee. We suspected his motives, but he was shielded against casual Thought-sensing, and we didn't want to tip our hands by probing him. We badly needed someone whose Gift was Empathy -”
“But Mother was exhausted and in any case, wouldn't leave Father,” Jisa said matter-of-factly. “So I went. He was a spy for the Prophet, sent to see if we were giving aid to their mages. It's hard to mistake fanatic devotion for anything else.”
“That was when we put her on the Council,” the Seneschal said, taking his seat. “And that brings us around to the Karsite situation.”
The situation, so Seneschal Arved told them, was stalemate. The followers of the Prophet had won, and were consolidating their victory. As yet they had shown no signs of resuming the war the previous regime had begun - but they had also been probing to see if Valdemar had been aiding mages, or were offering aid to those who continued to evade the “witchfinders.”
“They're just looking for an excuse to start things up again when they're ready,” said the representative for the South, Lord Taving, with a sour grimace.
“I'm inclined to agree,” Vanyel's father replied. “You know what they say: 'Nothing comes out of Karse but brigands and bad weather.' Whether they say their cause is for their god or for their greed, the Karsites always have been robbers and always will be.”
Lord Taving looked gratified to find someone who shared his basic feelings toward Karse. “The only problem is, we're still in no shape to fight a war,” he said, “or at least that's my understanding.”
“You are correct, my lord,” the Lord Marshal said. “Thanks to Vanyel's suggestions, we haven't had to resort to conscription, but our new Guards are still green as new leaves, and if faced with troops of seasoned fanatics they wouldn't stand a chance.”
“And why aren't they ready?” asked Guildmaster Jumay. “Zado knows we pay enough in taxes!”
“Largely because we've already lost more men to this war with Karse than in the whole of Elspeth's reign!” the Lord Marshal shot back heatedly.
“Which is why the treaty Vanyel brought back from Rethwellan is vital,” the Seneschal said, pouncing on the opportunity to introduce the subject.
The rest of the Councillors - who had not been at the Audiences - reacted according to their natures. Lord Taving was not inclined to trust anything South of Valdemar's Border. Withen wanted to know where the catch was. The Lord Marshal heaved an audible sigh of relief, until he realized the thing included a mutual assistance pact.
Vanyel explained the details of the treaty at length until his head ached, pointing out the ones Randale had requested and the ones he had gotten inserted. They finally agreed that it was an excellent treaty as it stood - which was just as well, since Randale had already signed it.
