Not telling them that Cintra can only be reborn as a vassal country under your protectorship? You are proposing, to all of us, an attack on Cintra for your own gain? You have suborned Sodden and Brugge for yourself, are sharpening your teeth on Verden and now you have caught a whiff of Cintra, is that right?'
'Admit it, Foltest,' snapped Henselt. 'Is Meve right? Is that why you are inciting us to this affair?'
'Come on, leave it.' The ruler of Temeria furrowed his noble brow and bristled angrily. 'Don't make me out as some conqueror
dreaming of an empire. What are you talking about? Sodden and Brugge? Ekkehard of Sodden was my mother's half-brother. Are you surprised that following his death the Free States brought the crown to me, his relative? Blood not water! And yes Venzlav of Brugge paid me homage as a vassal – but without coercion! He did it to protect his country because, on a fine day, he can see Nilfgaardian lances flashing on the left bank of the Yaruga!'
'And we are talking about the left bank,' drawled out the Queen of Lyria. 'The bank we are to strike. And the left bank is Cintra. Destroyed, burned out, ruined, decimated and occupied… but still Cintra. The Cintrians won't bring you their crown, Foltest, nor will they pay you homage. Cintra will not agree to be a vassal state. Blood, not water!'
'Cintra, if we… When we liberate it, should it become our joint protectorate,' said Demawend of Aedirn. 'Cintra is at the mouth of the Yaruga, in too important a strategic position to allow ourselves to lose control over it.'
'It has to be a free country,' objected Vizimir. 'Free, independent and strong. A country which will be an iron gateway, a bulwark to the north, and not a strip of burned ground over which the Nilfgaardian cavalry will be able to gather speed!'
'Is it possible to rebuild such a Cintra? Without Calanthe?'
'Don't get all worked up, Foltest,' pouted Meve. 'I've already told you, the Cintrians will never accept a protectorate or foreign blood on their throne. If you try to force yourself on them as their lord the tables will be turned. Vissegerd will again prepare his troops for battle, but this time under Emhyr's wings. And one day those detachments are going to assail us in the vanguard of a Nilfgaardian onslaught. As the spear point, as you just vividly described it.'
'Foltest knows that,' snorted Vizimir. 'That's why he's searching so hard for this Lion Cub, for Calanthe's granddaughter. Don't you understand? Blood not water, the crown through marriage. It's enough for him to find the girl and force her to marry-'
'Are you out of your mind?' choked out the King of Temeria. 'The Lion Cub is dead! I'm not looking for the girl at all, but if I
were… It has not even occurred to me to force her to do such a thing-'
'You wouldn't have to force her,' interrupted Meve, smiling charmingly. 'You are still a strapping, handsome man, cousin. And Calanthe's blood runs through the Lion Cub. Very hot blood. I knew Cali when she was young. When she saw a fellow she liked, she leaped up and down so fast that if you put dry twigs beneath her feet they would have caught real fire. Her daughter, Pavetta, the Lion Cub's mother, was exactly the same. So, no doubt, the Lion Cub has not fallen far from the apple tree. A bit of effort, Foltest, and the girl would not be long in resisting. That is what you are counting on, admit it.'
'Of course he's counting on it,' chuckled Demawend. 'Our king has thought up a cunning little plan for himself! We assail the left bank and before we realise it our Foltest will have found the girl, won her heart and have a young wife whom he will place on the throne of Cintra while her people cry for joy and pee in their knickers for happiness. For they will have their queen, blood of the blood and flesh of the flesh of Calanthe. They will have a queen… albeit one who comes with a king. King Foltest.'
'What rubbish!' yelled Foltest, turning red then white in turn. What's got into you? There's not a grain of sense in your prattling!'
'There is a whole lot of sense,' said Vizimir dryly. 'Because I know that someone is searching for the child very earnestly. Who, Foltest?'
'It's obvious! Vissegerd and the Cintrians!'
'No, it's not them. At least, not just them. Someone else is, too. Someone who is leaving a trail of corpses behind them. Someone who does not shrink from blackmail, bribery or torture… While we are on the subject, is a gentleman by the name of Rience in any of your services? Ah, I see from your expressions that either he isn't or you won't admit it – which comes to the same thing. I repeat: they are searching for Calanthe's granddaughter, and searching in such a way as to make you think twice about their intentions. Who is looking for her, I ask?'
'Hell!' Foltest thumped his fist on the table. 'It's not me! It
never occurred to me to marry some child for some throne! After all, I-'
'After all, you have been secretly sleeping with the Baroness La Valette for the past four years.' Meve smiled again. 'You love each other like two turtle doves and just wait for the old baron to finally kick the bucket. What are you staring at? We all know about it. What do you think we pay our spies for? But for the throne of Cintra, cousin, many a king would be prepared to sacrifice his personal happiness-'
'Hold on.' Henselt scratched his beard with a rasp. 'Many a king, you say. Then leave Foltest in peace for a moment. There are others. In her time, Calanthe wanted to give her granddaughter's hand to Ervyll of Verden's son. Ervyll, too, might have caught a whiff of Cintra. And not just him…'
'Hmm…' muttered Vizimir. 'True. Ervyll has three sons… And what about those present here who also have male descendants? Huh? Meve? Are you not, by any chance, pulling wool over our eyes?'
'You can count me out.' The Queen of Lyria smiled even more charmingly. 'It is true, two of my offspring are roaming the world -the fruits of delightful abandon – if they have not been brought to the gallows yet. I doubt that either of them would suddenly desire to be king. They were neither predisposed nor inclined that way. Both were even stupider than their father, may he rest in peace. Whoever knew my deceased husband will understand what I mean.'
'That's a fact,' agreed the King of Redania. 'I knew him. Are your sons really more stupid? Damn it, I thought it wasn't possible to get any more stupid… Forgive me, Meve…'
'It's nothing, Vizimir.'
'Who else has sons?'
'You do, Henselt.'
'My son is married!'
'And what is poison for? For the throne of Cintra, as someone here so wisely said, many would sacrifice their personal happiness. It would be worth if!'
'I will not permit such insinuations! And leave me alone! Others have sons, too!'
'Niedamir of Hengfors has two. And is a widower himself. And he isn't old. And don't forget Esterad Thyssen of Kovir.'
'I would count those out.' Vizimir shook his head. 'The Hengfors League and Kovir are planning a dynastic union with each other. They are not interested in Cintra or the south. Hmm… But Ervyll of Verden… It's not so far from him.'
'There is someone else who is just as near,' remarked Demawend suddenly.
'Who?'
'Emhyr var Emreis. He is not married. And he is younger than you, Foltest.'
'Bloody hell.' The King of Redania frowned. 'If that were true… Emhyr would bugger us without grease! It's obvious that the people and nobility of Cintra will follow Calanthe's blood. Imagine what would happen if Emhyr were to get his hands on the Lion Cub? Damn it, that's all we need! Queen of Cintra, and Empress of Nilfgaard!'
'Empress!' snorted Henselt. 'You exaggerate, Vizimir. What does Emhyr need the girl for, what the hell does he need to get married for? The throne of Cintra? Emhyr already has Cintra! He conquered the country and made it a province of Nilfgaard! He's got his whole butt on the throne and still has enough room to wriggle about!'
'Firstly,' noted Foltest, 'Emhyr grips Cintra by law, or rather by an aggressor's lawlessness. If he had the girl and married her, he could rule legally. You understand? Nilfgaard bound in marriage to Calanthe's blood is no longer Nilfgaard the invader, at which the entire north bares its teeth. It is Nilfgaard the neighbour whom one has to take into account. How would you want to force such a Nilfgaard beyond Marnadal, beyond the Amell passes? Attacking a kingdom whose throne is legally occupied by the Lion Cub, granddaughter of the Lioness of Cintra? Pox!
