Braedony army, which is just what he seeks to avoid.”
“That’s Qirsi logic, Lord Curgh. I believe this man has you ensorcelled, and he wishes to do the same to the rest of us.”
Before Tavis could answer, Kearney turned to the boy’s father. “Lord Curgh, what say you about all this? Surely you’ve formed an opinion of this man who’s been traveling the Forelands with your son.”
“I have, Your Majesty. I trust him with Tavis’s life, and I trust him in this as well. We should make peace with the enemy and enlist their help against the Qirsi.”
Shanstead shook his head violently. “This is madness!”
“I’ll take that as a vote against suing for peace, Lord Shanstead.”
“I must agree with the thane, my liege,” said the duke of Labruinn. “I’m not questioning the gleaner’s loyalty, but I can’t abide making peace with the invaders.”
“I understand, Caius. Lord Tremain, what about you?”
“The Qirsi are the real threat, my liege. We should end this war.”
“Lord Kentigern?”
Aindreas pressed his lips in a thin line, looking first at the Qirsi, and then at Tavis and his father. Emotions chased one another across his broad face-rage, hatred, deepest sorrow, and something else Diani couldn’t quite name. At last he closed his eyes. “Join with the empire’s men. Defeating the Qirsi is everything.”
The king eyed him for some time, nodding slowly. “That can’t have been easy, Lord Kentigern. You have my thanks.”
Aindreas looked away without a response.
“Swordmaster,” the king said to a tall, bald man, “your lord is dead, and his son as well. You speak for the House of Heneagh now. What say you?”
The man shuffled his feet, clearly discomfited by the question.
“It’s all right, Rab. Your duke would want you to speak your mind.”
“They invaded our land, Your Majesty. How could they ever be our allies?”
The king frowned. “Of course, swordmaster. I understand.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Kearney sighed, rubbing a hand across his brow. “Damn.”
Caius gave a small shrug. “Your vote tips the balance, Your Majesty.”
“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that.”
“But it has,” the queen said. “I feel quite certain that my nobles would also be divided, but I believe we must make peace with the empire’s men, and so that’s what we’ll do. I admire you for asking your nobles, Your Majesty, but this is a king’s decision, and I suggest you treat it as such.”
Kearney straightened, and for just a moment, Diani thought he would grow angry. Instead he grinned. “I’ve long heard it said that Sanbiri steel was the strongest in the Forelands. It seems Sanbiri queens and Sanbiri swords are forged in the same fires.”
Diani had to smile, though she wasn’t certain how she felt about all this. Her land hadn’t been invaded, and so her hatred of the empire didn’t match that of Marston and the others. Still, she had little desire to ally herself with the emperor, and she couldn’t quite bring herself to trust this Qirsi, even though he had taken a great risk by revealing himself as a Weaver.
“Gershon,” the king said, turning to his master of arms, “prepare a flag of truce. I’ll ride forward with Her Majesty, if she’ll be so kind as to join me.” He paused, looking to Olesya, who nodded her assent. “Grinsa, I’d like you with me as well.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
“Is there anyone else you care to bring, Your Highness?” Gershon asked.
“No. I daresay the three of us can handle this.”
“You’ll need guards, Your Majesty.”
“We’ll have a Weaver with us, Gershon. I’m sure we’ll be safe.”
The swordmaster didn’t look pleased, but neither did he argue the point.
“It’s decided then,” Kearney said. “The rest of you ready your armies, just in case this doesn’t work.”
Diani looked to the queen, who gave a small reassuring smile before walking off with Kearney and the gleaner. The duchess had no army here, and was at a loss as to what to do next. Turning, she saw Abeni and the other Sanbiri ministers hurrying off by themselves. She would have liked to follow, but before she could, she heard someone calling to her.
Marston of Shanstead was walking toward her, his expression grim. “May I have a word please, my lady?”
Masking her impatience, she made herself smile. “Of course, Lord Shanstead. How may I help you?”
He looked around quickly, as if to be certain that no one else could hear. “I sense, my lady, that you and I are of one mind when it comes to trusting these Qirsi. Am I right?”
Diani hesitated. “I’ll grant that I have cause to hate the conspiracy-more than most. And I’ll grant as well, that I trust few of them anymore.”
“Do you trust this Weaver in whom my king places so much faith?”
“He risked a great deal by revealing himself, my lord. You must admit that.”
“Perhaps. If his powers are as great as he claims, he might have risked less than you think. Even if we wished to put him to death, who among us could carry out the sentence?”
“A fair question. But Weavers have been executed in the past, as have their families, as I understand it.”
He frowned, looking toward his army. “So you do trust him.”
“Even if I didn’t, my lord, what could we do about it? I won’t defy my queen, and I’d advise you not to defy Kearney. Under Sanbira’s laws, doing so during war is tantamount to treason. I’d guess that the laws of your land are similar.”
The thane nodded. “They are. Don’t worry, my lady, I have no intention of holding back my soldiers or any such thing. But if I can prove this Qirsi a traitor, I will.”
“And if you can, my lord, you’ll have my support.”
He smiled at that. “Thank you, my lady. Now, if you’ll pardon me, I must see to my army.”
“Of course.”
Marston bowed to her and strode back to his men. Watching him go, Diani was surprised to find herself hoping that he’d fail. As much as she distrusted the white-hairs, she wanted this gleaner to prove himself an ally. She sensed that without him, they had little hope of defeating the renegades. Thinking this, she went in search of Abeni and the other Qirsi.
* * *
“He’s a Weaver!”
“Could he be our Weaver?”
“No. Our Weaver warned me about this man. He named him to me and told me that he was more than he claimed to be.”
“You never mentioned this to me!”
“No, Craeffe, I didn’t. There’s much I don’t tell you. You seem to forget with some frequency that I’m the Weaver’s chancellor, and you’re but one of his servants.”
“How dare-!”
Filtem laid a hand on Craeffe’s arm, silencing her. “What did the Weaver say we should do about this man, Archminister?”
She continued to glare at Craeffe a moment before responding. “He said we should do nothing. He’ll deal with the gleaner himself.”
“We may not have that luxury anymore,” Filtem said.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve no doubt our Weaver knew of this man’s powers when he gave you that warning. But I’m equally sure our Weaver assumed the gleaner would keep his secret, and that this man’s fear of being discovered would keep him from harming our cause before the Weaver’s arrival. Clearly that’s no longer the case.”
“An interesting point. What do you suggest we do?”
