That had been very risky, but the man was manageable. it was well known that she had been betrothed to Arwyn, and it was a simple matter to make the
mercenary believe she actually loved the brute and was willing to trade her favors in return for having secret love letters passed back and forth. She had made him think it was he who was manipulating her, and after contact through Callador had been established, she had sent the mercenary back to Arwyn under the pretext of delivering a letter.
Arwyn had obligingly disposed of him.
Her greatest coup had been Lord Korven I s son, Bran, who was a captain in the army. When she had expressed an interest in his duties and professed concern about the war-and about him, of courseBran had proudly told her not only everything that occurred on the campaigns, but all of Korven’s strategies and plans, which she communicated to Arwyn at the earliest opportunity. Callador had given her a special jeweled amulet, which she wore on a chain around her neck. Whenever she needed to contact him, she needed only to pull out the amulet, stare at the jewel, and concentrate, “calling” to Callador. She would receive her answer when the jewel began to glow. When that happened, she needed to wait for only a brief interval before the swirling mist appeared within her room, a portal to Boeruine.
At first, this mode of travel had frightened her considerably. Portals of that nature opened out into the Shadow World, and Callador had halfling blood.
However, the mage had reassured her that while the portal did open up into the Shadow World, it led only through another portal directly into Seaharrow, like passing through the two connecting doors of adjacent rooms. Still, each time she went through, she felt a knot of tension in her stomach, despite the wizard’s reassurances. It would all soon be worth it, 308 though. When Arwyn defeated Michael’s army and took Anuire, he would control the empire. It might require a few small pacification campaigns to bring some of the more distant provinces into line, but that was the sort of thing at which Arwyn excelled. And once the Army of Anuire had been defeated, no one else would be able to field so great a force except Arwyn himself. He would assume the Iron Throne, and Derwyn would become the prince and heir to the throne. And as his wife, she would one day become empress.
She had been afraid Arwyn would insist she honor their original betrothal, and with him as emperor, there was no way she would have been able to refuse. It would have made her empress that much sooner, but she knew she would not be able to manipulate him. At least not as easily as she would be able to control his son. And then she would be forced to share his bed, as well, an idea that was repugnant to her.
Fortunately, Arwyn no longer had any interest in the match. He had only seen it as a means to an end he would now realize without it.
Derwyn would be a far more pleasant bedmate, and much more tractable.
He lacked his father’s strength. And by the time he became emperor, she would have him thoroughly beneath her thumb. She could gradually build up his ambition and drive a wedge between him and his father-which would not be difficult, since Arwyn treated him like a lackey-and then they could take steps to hasten the new emperor’s demise.
But first things first, she thought. She would ruin Aedan Dosiere and get her revenge. She would make him suffer first, and then she would destroy him.
And if she hoped to do that before Arwyn marched upon Anuire, there was no time to waste. A word or two in the right ears and things would be set in motion. From there, they would gather momentum of their own accord. She would only need nudge things along every now and then.
She smiled in anticipation. It had taken years, but at last, Aedan Dosiere was going to get what was coming to him.
Elation on the one hand, anxiety on the other.
Aedan was torn between the two emotions. He had finally realized a dream he’d nursed for years. He and Sylvanna had become lovers. That night in the Green Basilisk….
He had been drunk, but not so drunk that he could not remember, nor not know what he was doing. The wine had merely removed his inhibitions so that he had been able to say those words to her that he had never dared say before. And some physical effect of the wine, combined with the sudden flow of emotions that he had held back for so long, had energized him, kept him going long into the night. It had never been so good with Laera. He pushed that thought away.
When he woke up in the morning, suffering from the effects of the drink the night before, she had already risen and gone out to bring him back a potion that would dispel the headache, and they had made love again.
He had never felt so happy. But at the same time, he felt concern.
How would Gylvain react to this? It would not be right to keep it from him. Besides, he would surely
find out. They would not be able to conceal what they felt from him.
He knew them both too well. But it would be wise to conceal it from everybody else. It
