“Forgive me, baroness, but an enormous proportion of our peasantry make their living with trade to Caldaea. Half of Dawnhill’s labourers work for clients in Andervale!” Sirillia said.
“I’m sure this will only be temporary, until we work what really happened in Crown Bay,” Emery said, trying to keep his wife from fretting. “Ser Jyra was left in charge, and he had to act in the city’s interest.”
Emilia huffed. “Fentis is renowned for its craftsmen and jewellers, of which the highborns of Caldaea rely upon for their luxuries. I pray to the Creator that this will not affect our business dealings either.”
Baron Artima rolled his eyes. “Yes, baroness, we all know how prized your city’s exports are. It would be a shame for you to miss out on all those profitable tariffs.”
Baroness Emilia waved her hand, brushing the man’s insult aside. “I am merely concerned for my people, Artima.”
“What concerns me most is that ship in Dawnhill. What if Ser Jyra is correct in assuming it is some sort of attack on the kingdom?” His suspicious mind was beginning to shine through.
Sirillia shook her head. “Are you really suggesting that the Seynards orchestrated an attack on our sovereignty?”
“Why not? Who stands to gain most from this occurrence? Perhaps they anticipated Dawnhill’s reaction and will use it as an excuse to react in their own way. What better way to claim provocation than by shifting the foundation of an entire kingdom’s economy in a single day?”
“That’s preposterous, and you know it, Artima,” Emilia said with a snicker. “Your distrust of the Seynards is clouding your judgement.”
“My distrust for the Seynards is warranted after what they did to our prince,” the Old Bear spat.
Emery took the second letter, still sealed in its original envelope, and addressed to Emery Blacktree himself.
More dire news?
“It’s from Tobius Seynard,” he said, skimming the text. “He is requesting an armistice with us in ten days at the town of Tellersted, on the border between our kingdoms.”
Baron Artima smirked. “Does that man take us for fools? It is clearly some sort of rouse, my king. First this attack on the capital, and now this.”
Ser Yelin look to his king, nodding with Artima. “I believe the baron is right, my king. It is risky. It could very well be a trap.”
Baroness Emilia was not so sure. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions here, my king. Perhaps the man simply wants to make amends on behalf of his family. We didn’t exactly leave Andervale on the best of terms, after all.”
“Agreeing to an armistice is a dangerous move, my king. I ultimately cannot guarantee your safety,” Ser Yelin pointed out.
“And let us not forget,” Sirillia said, “they still have our daughter. The last thing we want is to turn her into a political hostage amongst all of this.”
Emery scrunched up his face as he weighed up the options. He did not want to risk another war with Caldaea. Both kingdoms had suffered immensely by the border conflict. He did not want to be responsible for the deaths of countless more boys and men and the starving of women and children.
But what could he do, other than to agree to the armistice? Ciana was being held in Andervale against her will. Jodie Blacktree had disappeared after the tournament. Petir had been severely injured, nearly killed.
Emery saw no other sound option.
“The Seynards have to be brought to justice, one way or another, for their reckless and destructive actions to our family and the kingdom,” Emery said.
Sirillia lowered her head in vain. “Has nobody taken a second to even think about Ciana in all of this? She will be the first to die if a conflict arises!”
“I don’t think Ciana is in any immediate danger, my love. She has value to the Seynards. Without her, they have no bargaining chip, and no claim of relation with the Blacktree line.”
“The princess is their most valuable possession, my queen,” Emilia said.
Baron Artima twirled his moustache with his forefinger and thumb. “Might I suggest an alternative?”
Emery nodded. “You may.”
“We play along. We attend the armistice, but we bring with us some… help.” Artima leant forward as he spoke, like a proud schemer.
“Help?” Baroness Emilia said.
Artima nodded. “Tellersted is only two days’ hard march from Veridia, three from Dawnhill. I can have men meet us at Tellersted to act as insurance, and I’m sure there are plenty of men in Dawnhill who could fight if they needed to.”
Sirillia was shocked. “What you are suggesting could lead to war!”
“Or it could be exactly what we need to prevent one,” Emery said. His guests and wife glanced over to him. “Having an army with us would both guarantee our safety and be a show of force to Tobius Seynard. We will tell him to send Ciana back unharmed, lest there be severe consequences. It may be the stone that will cause the tower collapse, Sirillia.”
He spoke to everyone in the room, but most importantly he needed to have his wife on his side.
Ser Yelin, Artima and Emilia all appeared pleased with their liege’s suggestion. Sirillia, however, was not entirely convinced. Emery could see that she was playing out all sorts of possible scenarios on her head behind those glassy, grey eyes.
Emery stood from his seat, tall and assured. He looked to Ser Yelin and Baron Artima. “Call the banners.”
Artima made a closed fist, while Ser Yelin bowed to his king.
“I want a thousand men brought over from Dawnhill armed to the teeth and ready for battle. Have the captains in the city guard lead them,” Emery said.
“At once, my king,” Ser Yelin said, before racing off out of the tent to find a messenger and their hawk.
“Lowe,” Emery
