There had been a winner, there had been a loser, and the loser had suffered badly. The loser would go away but the Faithful would take back nothing they had lost before. Both sides would hang up their swords for a while. Forever, if Yasmid could get her son to listen.
...
One creature somewhere would be frustrated. Wars everywhere were winding down. He would not be seen much, though, if he understood that a lot of people were thinking about him. His great strength, over the ages, had been that people did not take notice. But that was changing.
His hand had been too heavy lately.
...
The Royalist survivors scurried back to Al Rhemish.
They wasted a winter on recriminations. The old men, left behind when the “final campaign” launched, said much less than those who had ridden the salt. They had no need to say, “I told you so.”
Was there a chance they would be consulted next time Megelin had a wild hair?
Probably not.
...
Credence Abaca summoned Kristen. The order was couched as a gracious request but the mother of the king-who-would-be knew she had no choice. While she and her friends, and the children, were guests of the Marena Dimura they were beholden and at the mercy of the forest people. They dared not put on airs. The Marena Dimura might just stop fil ing the extra mouths. And this would be a hard winter.
Al winters were harsh after dislocations during the benign seasons. Kristen did not go alone. That would not have been proper. Dahl Haas joined her trek through the cold forest. He entered the Colonel’s family cabin behind her. He was not al owed near the war chief but neither was he deprived of his weapons. He waited where he could see Kristen al the time. He was made comfortable.
Credence Abaca was a smal , dark man, famous for his vitality and energy. These days, though, he was bent and wrinkled. He had a palsy in his left hand. Not good. He was left-handed.
“Sit with me,” Abaca said. His voice had changed subtly, too, and he had difficulty seating himself.
“Thank you, Colonel. You’ve had news?”
“News?” Puzzled. “No. No news.”
“Yet you asked me here.”
“Yes. Pardon me in advance if, on occasion, I become a little brusque. You wil understand why as we proceed.” Abaca’s tone worried Kristen.
“There is news, good and bad, but not of the sort you meant. From my point of view, our partisans have enjoyed considerable success against the Itaskians, who have gone to ground in Damhorst. They have to stick together in groups of a dozen or more. Also, the Nordmen who al ied themselves with the Itaskians are starting to reconsider.
Greyfel s seems unlikely to receive outside reinforcements.”
“That means we’ve won!”
“No, Kristen. It means we may be able to rid Kavelin of the Itaskians, in time. But Inger has distanced herself from her cousin already. She retains the loyalty of the strongest regiments. We have an unofficial truce with them, for now.
They don’t want to fight us. We don’t want to fight them. We stood shoulder to shoulder on the same battlefields too many times.” He stopped. His left hand shook badly.
Kristen said, “I hear a big ‘But!’ Is that the bad news?”
“After a fashion.”
Kristen strove hard to remain respectful y patient.
“Kristen, I am the glue that holds your support together. I am, in fact, guilty of pul ing you into my politics so I could put an acceptable figurehead out in front of my ambitions for my people.”
Kristen nodded, surprised by his bald honesty.
“I may have done you a severe disservice.”
“How so?”
Abaca was quiet for a time. His daughter brought tea that must have cost the tribesmen dear. Abaca Enigara was young and unattractive even by the standards of her own people. She seemed downright grim.
Abaca final y said, “The monster Radeachar was seen again three nights ago. Scouts report the Hastin Defile blocked by snow.”
“That’s weird. That’s the third time this winter.”
“It does happen. Once in a winter, one year out of ten. We haven’t gotten unusual amounts of snow.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I’ve been slow catching on. But I get it, now.
Varthlokkur doesn’t want us raiding in the vicinity of Vorgreberg.”
“He’s taking Inger’s side?”
“No. He’s keeping me from doing something desperate.”
“Why would you?”
“Because I’m dying. Because I want so badly to see things settled before I go. Because I am the glue.” Kristen did not argue. Neither did she spout upbeat nonsense. This was grim news. “I see.”
“Again, I apologize for dragging you in when I couldn’t keep my promises. I wouldn’t have done it had I known then what I know now.”
“I do have to ask if you’re sure.”
“I am. This is in the blood. I deceived myself in thinking that it wouldn’t get me, I suppose. Putting a shine on it, I can say that I’ve gotten four years more than my father did.”
“Oh.”
“So what shal we do, girl? You don’t have to tel me now but you’l need to decide within ten days. I’l beat back the darkness as long as I can but that won’t be long. And once I go, everything else comes apart.”
Because he was the glue. And there was no one to replace him. “Credence, there may be a positive possibility yet.”
“I could use one. Please explain.”
“The interest shown by the sorcerer.”
“You think he knows about my problem?”
Had he not said so himself? “Nothing escapes him.”
“Perhaps.”
“As you say, you are the glue. Attract his attention. Show him that you know he’s interfering. He might make contact.
Then you can get his views on what you should be doing.” Abaca’s face darkened.
“I don’t mean ask him to give orders. Find out what’s going on in the rest of the world. He knows more than you do.
There might be a powerful strategic reason for avoiding hostilities. Maybe Inger’s regiments have begun to have a change of heart.”
Abaca grunted. “I’l think about that. You think about what’s best for you and yours. We can stil get you out of the country and back into hiding.”
Kristen and Dahl made the slow walk to their own cabin.
Dahl asked no questions while they were in the open.
...
The fugitive spent four days looking for a way to cross the Roe River without being noticed. There were no bridges this far south.
Something dramatic had happened upstream. The water was high, filthier than usual, clotted with debris and the occasional rotting carcass with feeding birds aboard.
The current was not swift but it was there. The flood was too wide to swim and dangerous in more than the obvious ways. There was a shark in the Sea of Kotsum that did not mind the absence of salt in the river.
A boat was his only option. That was a problem. There was little westbound traffic. That was al military. He
