“You should have something, Diani. If the fighting begins again, there’s no telling when you’ll have a chance to eat.”
Reluctantly, Diani took some bread and a piece of hard cheese, thanking the queen and, as an afterthought, Ohan as well. “Do you expect the fighting to begin soon?” she asked between bites.
“I don’t know. We’re awaiting word from Eibithar’s king.”
“If the Braedony army chooses not to attack,” the swordmaster added, “I expect that Kearney won’t force the matter.” From his tone, it seemed that Ohan thought this a mistake on the king’s part.
Diani felt differently. “Then let’s hope the enemy thinks better of it,” she said.
Olesya nodded. “Indeed.”
They continued to eat, saying little, as the sky slowly brightened. Gazing northward, Diani saw no sign that the empire’s men were readying themselves for battle. There was some movement in the Braedony camp, but nothing threatening. One by one, the other nobles joined them, Naditia first, the dukes of Norinde and Brugaosa soon after. Their Qirsi came with them, joining the archminister a short distance off and speaking in hushed tones among themselves.
“I still think we should take the battle to them,” Ohan said at last, his eyes fixed on the enemy lines.
Alao glanced at the master of arms. “I tend to agree. With the men who joined Kearney’s force yesterday, we have enough to overwhelm Braedon’s force. Let’s attack and be done with it.”
“It’s not our decision to make, Lord Norinde,” the queen said.
“I mean no disrespect, Your Highness, but I must say I find that troubling as well. It’s bad enough that we’ve allowed ourselves to be entangled in Eibithar’s conflict with the empire. But for us to submit to the king’s authority seems to me foolhardy and dangerous.”
“Yes, Lord Norinde,” Olesya said, sounding weary. “I’m quite aware that were you sovereign, matters would be very different. But you’re not, and I have made my decision. Kearney appealed to us for aid and we chose to grant it. You disagreed at the time, and you’ve made it clear that you still think our course an unwise one. Repeating your opinion will accomplish nothing, save to annoy me further.”
Alao’s face turned crimson, and there was rage in his eyes. But he nodded once, and said simply, “Yes, Your Highness.”
“I’ll raise the matter of the battle with Kearney when I can. In truth, I don’t relish the idea of waiting for another assault either.”
A few moments later an Eibitharian soldier approached, resplendent in purple and gold. He bowed to the queen and told her that his king requested a word with her at her convenience.
“Did he want me alone?” Olesya asked.
“No, Your Highness. He asks that you bring your nobles and ministers.”
“My ministers?”
“Yes, Your Highness. He made a point of that.”
“Very well,” the queen said, frowning slightly. “Tell him we’ll be along shortly.”
The man bowed a second time and left them.
“Now he’s summoning us, as if we served in his court.”
“Oh, Alao, do be quiet! He did nothing of the sort.” She looked at Diani. “It is strange, though, that he’s asked us to bring the Qirsi.”
It was more than strange; it was disturbing. In this instance, Diani agreed with the duke of Norinde. By asking the queen to bring her Qirsi, Kearney had overstepped propriety and whatever authority he held on this battle plain. More to the point, from what Diani had observed in her short time with the king of Eibithar, the man placed far too much faith in the white-hairs. It almost seemed that he had never heard of the conspiracy, that nothing had happened in the past year to shake his faith in the loyalty of his ministers. She wanted to speak against honoring Kearney’s request, but after hearing Olesya reprimand the duke, she didn’t dare.
“Yes, Your Highness, it is strange,” was all she said.
“Still, I’m sure he has his reasons.”
The queen beckoned to Abeni, who led the other Qirsi to where Olesya and her nobles stood.
“The king wishes to speak with us, Archminister. We’re to join him at his camp presently.”
“Very good, Your Highness,” the archminister said, with a smile that was clearly forced. “We’ll wait for you here.”
“Actually, Archminister, Kearney has asked that you and the ministers come with us.”
Abeni made no effort to conceal her surprise. “Did he say why?”
“No. Nor did I ask. I take it you have no objection.”
“None, Your Highness.” She glanced uncomfortably at the other ministers. “We’re ready when you are.”
Olesya nodded and led them all to the Eibitharian camp. Kearney was waiting for them outside his small tent. His nobles were already there, as were several Qirsi, including the tall, broad-shouldered man Diani had noticed two nights before. He was unlike any Qirsi she had ever seen. He had the body of an Eandi warrior, and though his skin and eyes were pale like those of other white-hairs, they did not make him appear frail or sickly. On the contrary. He was, perhaps, the most formidable man of either race she had ever seen. A young Eandi man stood near him, his dark blue eyes watchful. He might once have been handsome, but his face now was lined with scars that made him appear both sad and menacing.
Diani recognized some of the other Eibitharian nobles and was able to assign names to a few of the faces. When Marston of Shanstead caught her eye, she nodded to him and smiled. He nodded in return, but his expression remained grim.
“Your Highness,” Kearney said, bowing to her. “Thank you for honoring my invitation so quickly. It seems for now that the empire’s army is content to rest this day, but we must remain wary. I won’t keep you long.”
“Actually, Your Majesty, if I may interrupt, a few in my company have suggested that we take the battle to Braedon. They point out that we now outnumber the enemy by a sizable margin. Wouldn’t we be wise to end this threat as quickly as possible?”
The king’s eyes flicked toward the tall Qirsi. “Indeed we might, Your Highness. I’ve considered this as well, and have heard much the same thing from several of my dukes. But I’d ask your indulgence before we make this decision. There are … other factors at work here that bear consideration.”
“What other factors?” Alao demanded, drawing a scowl from the queen.
“I have good reason to believe that there’s more to this invasion than Harel’s lust for power and land. I fear that much of what’s happened in the Forelands in the past year, particularly here in Eibithar, has been contrived by others.”
Alao made a sour face. “You speak of the conspiracy.”
“Yes.”
“All the more reason to end this conflict quickly and decisively.”
“Not necessarily,” said the broad-shouldered Qirsi.
They all looked at him.
“And who are you, sir?” the queen asked. “I saw you with the king yesterday, but I didn’t hear your name or title.”
The man bowed. “My name is Grinsa jal Arriet, Your Highness. I’m a gleaner in Eibithar’s Revel.”
“A gleaner? Hearing these dukes speak of you, I had the impression that you’re somewhat more than that.”
“I’m a gleaner by profession.”
“So am I to gather that you’ve had a vision of what’s to come, and this has convinced you that we shouldn’t attack?”
“It’s more than that. As we speak, a Qirsi army approaches from the north. They’re led by a man named Dusaan jal Kania-”
“Harel’s high chancellor?”
“Yes. But he’s far more than that. He’s a Weaver.”
Olesya raised a hand to her mouth. “A Weaver?”
“Yes, Your Highness. A powerful one. He and his warriors have the power to destroy all the armies on this battle plain. If we continue this war-even if we prevail-we only assure Dusaan’s victory. We have to end this conflict now. The Weaver is our true enemy and we can only defeat him by joining forces with Braedon’s men and fighting
