of the attack.
Mist focused on the transfer chamber.
Her paranoia did not fade because she was occupied. She considered the possibility that Varthlokkur was behind the assault.
Unlikely, though. Varthlokkur would be direct. He would send his familiar monster.
The raiders had had a close knowledge of the inside of the tower but had lacked real-time intel igence. They had not been ready for her.
She moved to the door of the staging chamber. “Bring the dead raiders to me here! Without damaging them!” None had gotten away and none had been taken alive. But the dead had not been dead for long. Some could stil bear witness.
First, though, she had to make contact with her headquarters.
...
Ragnarson heard a click. He faced the door, uneasy.
Neither breakfast nor lunch had come. Mist must be messing with him.
The Empress came in carrying a tray. He stifled a rude remark. She did not look healthy. “Are you al right?”
“No. I just spent three hours talking to the dead.”
“What happened?” That she was stil here and bringing him food told him it was something bad.
“Persons as yet unidentified may be aware of your survival.”
“What?” Was she frazzled enough to give something away?
“There was an attack on the tower. By local people. Those I could make talk hoped news that our portals were out would encourage a general uprising. But there were hints that they wanted to free the prisoners held here, too. They expected to suffer heavy casualties. Someone here must have been worth it.”
“Me?”
“Maybe. There were other prisoners. Some of those got kil ed.”
“You didn’t take any of the raiders alive.” Which explained her remark about talking to the dead.
“No. And I didn’t get to the dead fast enough to squeeze out everything I wanted. But I can’t help thinking some clever soul with a different agenda conned some malcontents. I don’t know that. It’s intuition. Maybe somebody wanted to get you out.”
Michael Trebilcock?
He did not say the name. But no one else they knew had the connections. Or the gal .
“Trebilcock does seem plausible,” she said. “Or maybe just someone who enjoys a good framing.”
“Old Meddler? Why would he sink to that low a level?”
“For the drama?”
“With al the grand drama in this world, he wants to stir up skirmishes?”
“The drama is fading. The war with Matayanga is guttering.
I intend to avoid war afterward. It wil take Shinsan a generation or two to recover. The Tervola see that.
Whatever their feelings toward me, they want to nurture the Empire first. Even dedicated old troublemakers want a healing time.”
“So you’re getting comfortable.”
“Never while I’m a woman trying to control cruel men awed by nothing but superior power. My point is, Shinsan is headed for a time of peace. The whole world is exhausted.
There was a battle in Hammad al Nakir recently. Yasmid routed Megelin. She could not fol ow up. Magden Norath is in Al Rhemish. He could become a tool of the Meddler again. Kavelin is chaotic and getting more so. If the Meddler was behind the raid here his intent might have been to inject you into that chaos to see the fur and blood fly.”
“You said you were thinking that way yourself.”
“I was. Because of my fondness for you and my fondness for Kavelin, which was my home for so long. And because it would be useful to me, as Empress, to have a stable, reliable, friendly monarch there.”
“You walked out.”
“I did. You’re no longer the Bragi Ragnarson who built Kavelin. You wouldn’t go back and make things right. You would work the Meddler’s mischief.”
Ragnarson started pacing. He said nothing. He did not trust himself to control his rage.
“As you wil .” Mist moved to the exit. “Do try to use this time more fruitful y. This has to be a life sentence only if you insist.”
Ragnarson’s lips pul ed back in a snarl.
...
Nepanthe, with Smyrena in her lap, leaned against her husband. “Why is Bragi that way?” The baby cooed and kicked. “What happened to him?”
Varthlokkur knew a broader question was being asked.
Identical stubbornness, on his part, had caused the breach with Ragnarson. That rift underlay al the evil that had befal en Kavelin since. “‘And the Wicked flee where none do pursue.’”
“What?”
“A not quite apposite quotation from a forgotten book. As to the question, I don’t know why Bragi changed. There’s always a temptation to think such shifts are sparked external y.”
“Somebody cast a spel .”
“Possibly. But it’s also possible that massive bad cess just twisted his mind.”
Smyrena needed burping. Nepanthe moved the infant to her shoulder. She gave Varthlokkur a hard look as she did.
He said, “When you’re the one behaving badly you blame outside forces. Unless you’re emotional y invested in being too strong-wil ed to be influenced.”
“You’d then have an adventure justifying yourself.”
“You would.” The wizard leaned in for a better view of what Ragnarson would do now that he was alone.
Nepanthe said, “Ethrian had a good day. I think he’s starting to get better.”
“Excel ent. Excel ent.”
“I wish we could resurrect that Sahmaman. He real y loved her.”
“I’m sure he did. Her behavior showed that she loved him, too. But we can’t ignore one iron truth. The real Sahmaman died thousands of years ago. We saw a memory given flesh by godlike power.” “I know. I’m wishful- thinking. I just want Ethrian to heal.”
“I understand.” The wizard would not dismay her by saying that the boy would never escape his raging insanity.
Chapter Five:
The Queen’s liaison with the commander of her bodyguard was an open secret. Everyone inside Castle Krief knew. Everyone gossiped and almost everyone pretended complete ignorance
to outsiders. Unaware, Inger and Josiah Gales kept going through the motions of a strictly professional relationship.
Inger asked, “Is it time for Dane?”
Gales, never entirely committed to anyone, said, “He could give up and go home. Family interests have suffered.
Money is running short. Desertions and ambushes have his force down to three hundred.”
