“None,” admitted Roper. “None.”
“Well, then, you are hardly a threat to the country.”
“You’re interested in stability,” blurted Roper. “It would make everyone’s lives easier if I wasn’t here and Uvoren commanded.”
“That is not our opinion,” said the Chief Historian. Jokul, still playing with the coin, shifted to a new position in his chair that made it look as though he was trying to see how little of it he could take up with his narrow shoulders. Roper’s gaze switched to the woman, but found her no easier a resting place. She was more rigid, resembling a scaffold of oak in comparison to Jokul’s mess of coppiced willow. And to look at her, Roper had to meet those unshakeable, white-blue eyes. “We’ve both kept eyes on you as you grew up,” she went on, her voice softer than her glare. “We were hopeful that you might become a leader some day. Not a ruler. A leader. Somebody who might command the love of the legions, as proficiently as your father had their respect. Unfortunately, your father died before you were prepared to take command. Doubtless, Kynortas thought he had more time, but time is short for us all.
“What do you know of the Sutherners?” she demanded unexpectedly, leaning forward to hear his answer.
“They’re small,” offered Roper, shrugging.
“Eh? Small?” She sat back again and pretended Roper had not spoken. “The most important thing you must know about them is that they do not live longer than a century. That is why they are such a voracious race. They have no time, and so they must consume. They each want to see change in their own lifetime. We know that we just have to wait and change will come.”
“I don’t know anything about them,” said Roper.
“Nobody seems to. The Academy,” she said, referring to the sisterhood which she led, “and the Kryptea,” she gestured at Jokul, who sat scrunched into his chair, “have a similar complaint. We have fought against the Sutherners for thousands of years and nobody has bothered to interpret them.”
Roper had little interest in the Sutherners at that moment. He glanced at Jokul. “So you will just sit by in the contest between me and Uvoren and do nothing?”
“It is very rarely that the Kryptea is required to act,” replied the pale man. “Most of my task is to gather information, and of late the Sutherners have presented a much more real threat to the stability of our lands than your family has. Between the Wolf and the Wildcat …” Jokul named Roper’s and Uvoren’s house banners, his eyes narrowed. “There is no need to intervene just yet.”
“So can’t you make us march on the Sutherners?” demanded Roper.
“That would be an abuse of my position,” replied Jokul. “The Kryptea is not here to rule; but we make certain that the right person does.”
“I am the right person—”
“Are you?” Jokul cut Roper short, pale eyebrows flying upwards. “Certainly not in the opinion of the Black Kingdom, which mostly regards you as a coward.”
“I did the right thing,” said Roper quietly. He had no idea if that was true.
“I wasn’t there,” said Jokul, managing to imply that he still knew more about what had happened than Roper did.
Of course you weren’t, thought Roper. He had never seen anyone so un-warrior-like.
“Neither of us was,” cut in the historian. “Where we agree is that we don’t much want Uvoren to succeed your father. He has his talents. He knows the business of war, he is well supported and he brings the welcome backing of the Lothbroks.” Uvoren’s house. “But his temperament is a problem. He acts in his own interest and he is not wise. I do not want him ruling the Black Kingdom. Do you understand why he delays?”
“Self-interest,” said Roper bitterly. “He won’t risk anything for others.”
Jokul gave a little tut. “Do not despise Uvoren,” he said. “Hatred is not a man’s emotion.”
“Don’t patronise me,” snapped Roper. It did not surprise him that Jokul did not believe in excessive emotion.
The historian waved a hand at Jokul, dismissing his intervention. “Do not react,” she said, still unfazed. “Just think. Uvoren does not leave this fortress because he knows that it is you who takes the blame while the Black Kingdom burns. You are nominally in command and he is waiting until frustration against you reaches boiling point. He is waiting, Lord Roper, for the point when he can usurp you and know that the reaction will be one of relief. Time is against you, so you must act fast.”
“If a single man would support me,” said Roper, “I’d happily lead the army to attack.”
The historian raised an eyebrow. “What do you need?” she asked, watching the effect of her words closely. It was an obvious test and Roper, cornered by the pair of them, did not respond to it. “We’re not going to secure the Stone Throne for you,” continued the historian, manoeuvring round his resistance. “I don’t have that power. But I’d like to see if you can do it for yourself. Uvoren has influence, wealth, reputation and allies. You’ll need all of those, if you are to take him on.”
“I need allies first,” said Roper, “and my house does not have the power to challenge the Lothbroks.”
“Your father was a strong ruler,” said the historian. “Strong rulers have no need to elevate their family any more than another, but it has left your throne precarious. Even those in House Jormunrekur who do still enjoy positions of status will be reluctant to support you; they must join other powerful factions or find themselves smothered. But Uvoren
