He would have to find something to occupy him soon, some scheme or diversion. He might arrange an assignation at court – it had been a while – or manage the destruction of a rival’s career. The arts of state were like a ritual game, with pieces scattered across the board in complicated webs of power. Move one, and the whole pattern shifted.
Caradryel was good at the game. He knew which cords to pull, which ears to whisper in, which beds to slip into and out of and which palms to press with gold, jewels or daggers. The fact that his father saw no value in such prowess was neither here nor there; slowly, with glacial patience, Caradryel had built up a formidable cadre of loyal retainers, dotted around the Houses like thieves in the basement of a grand old mansion. One day he would call the favours in. It amused him sometimes to contemplate what would happen after that. Perhaps he would find himself exiled from Ulthuan in disgrace, perhaps end up on the Throne.
He knew the source of his ennui. The affair with Yethanial, he could see now, had been a miscalculation. It was no good trying courtly suavity on the likes of her – she was a scholar, a dealer in the purity of words and thoughts. He should have been more humble, less cocksure, then perhaps he might have swung it.
It was a shame. He had managed to persuade himself that a spell in Elthin Arvan would be just the thing; he could have ingratiated himself with his new master and extended his network of patronage to the colonies. He could have observed the war first-hand and gauged how best to take advantage of the many opportunities that such things invariably delivered. Most of all, he knew he would have enjoyed the simple pleasures of seeing something different. Even Ulthuan, the most spectacular and varied realm in all the world, became dull after a while.
He took a sip of wine, and a low chime sounded from the far end of the dining chamber.
‘Come,’ he said lazily, only mildly interested.
The doors opened and a servant padded in.
‘Your pardon, lord,’ he said, bowing. ‘A lady awaits.’
Caradryel’s lids barely lifted. ‘Mirielle? She’s early.’
‘From Tor Vael, lord.’
Caradryel’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Khaine’s eyes, you fool, show her in.’
By the time the servant had withdrawn, summoned Yethanial and brought her up to the dining chamber, Caradryel had seen that the table was cleared of food and the platters replaced with a heap of serious-looking scrolls.
He rose to greet her as she entered, affecting a look of disinterested welcome. Yethanial wore grey robes and a grey hood, making her look almost ghostly. She didn’t so much as glance at the piles of parchment he’d carefully arranged.
‘This is a surprise, my lady,’ he said.
‘Is it?’ she asked, her voice resigned. ‘I thought you knew everything.’
‘By no means. Are you well?’
Yethanial laughed sourly. ‘He has gone. Just as you said he would.’
‘Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would come so soon.’
‘I hope you can take some satisfaction from being right.’
‘Believe me, that’s not how I take satisfaction.’ Caradryel motioned towards a chair. ‘Will you sit?’
‘I had much to think about after he left,’ said Yethanial, ignoring the offer. ‘At first I determined to ignore you. I supposed that if, as you told me, knowledge of Caledor’s orders was widely shared, then you were nothing more than the boldest of any number of gossip-merchants.’
Caradryel bowed humbly.
‘But then I gave the matter thought,’ she went on. ‘I have a tendency to disregard your sort. I find the games played in Lothern tiresome, and so assume that all the highborn do. This has evidently been a mistake. Perhaps I should have paid them more attention, and thus avoided a snare.’
‘I am flattered that you think so.’
‘I asked around about you. Believe it or not, I have contacts of my own, some of whom have the ear of the powerful.’
‘I do not doubt it. What did they say?’
‘Listen to me now. Do not interrupt. My husband is heading to Elthin Arvan alone. He wishes to end the war, not to prolong it, and for this reason those already there will resist him at every turn. He has respect from those who fight but few allies among those who command. You offered your services to me. Having no better options, I am taking up the offer. I wish you to go to Tor Alessi and work for Tor Caled. I can pay you anything you wish.’
‘That will not be nec–’
‘I said do not interrupt. If you accept, you will be required to perform three duties. First, advise the Lord Imladrik. Follow his commands, see that he achieves what he has set out to, give him sound counsel. Second, report back to me on all matters of import. Ships ply between Lothern and Tor Alessi, so this should not be difficult, though do it secretly. My husband is no schemer. You may struggle to understand this, but he has a noble soul and will do nothing unless he sees the good for Ulthuan in it.’
‘So I under–’
‘Third, I wish to hear details of anything concerning the dragon riders. There is a mage among them, her name is Liandra. At one time she and my husband… worked together. No doubt she is still active in the defence of the colonies. Other riders will follow my husband to Elthin Arvan, and they should be watched too. Make this a priority. Dragon riders are a strange breed, hot-blooded and affected by the wills of the beasts they ride. They must not have influence over him.’
‘Liandra? Of the House of Athinol?’
Yethanial gave him a wintry smile. ‘You seem well-informed. I hope, for your sake,
