Arrows of Promise (Kingmakers Book 2) (30 page)

A dark rumble came from Gerrard. “Besides, man, most of
those twenty-five you’re counting on are under the age of sixteen. You want to
send children to war for you?”

Haney flushed. “Apologies, Wizard Seaton. I was not aware of
their youth. It was reported to us that twenty-three wizards had come into
Estole recently but we were given no details.”

Gerrard humped. “Someone should have included the details.
Most of the ones that came with me are students. You have only six fully
trained wizards in Estole. And we certainly cannot fight a whole army by
ourselves.”

Haney lifted both hands up in surrender. “I gather your
point.”

“We’ll fight if we need to,” Ash stated in a quiet tone that
carried to every corner of the room, “but what we need to think of are ways to
avoid open conflict. The odds are stacked against us if we fight.”

“Assassinate the royal family?” Troi suggested. “I know it’s
a risky move, but it would work.”

Tierone was shaking his head even before the words were
completely out of Troi’s mouth. “The royal palace is far too heavily fortified.
We’d find it impossible to get through all of those defenses. Aside from being
a suicide mission for whomever we sent, I’m not sure how viable that option is
in the long run. It would certainly buy us time but Iysh’s corruption cannot be
cured simply by removing the royal family. It spreads throughout the
government. If we take them down, some minister or far-flung relation will be
put on the throne, and we’ll be back at square one all over again.”

“You wouldn’t make it through,” Gerrard denied. “I set up
some of the magical protections myself. Saying it’s ‘heavily fortified’ is an
understatement.”

“But the treasury isn’t as fortified,” Edvard inputted
hopefully.

Broden gave him a weary look. Had he still not given up on
this idea?

“No, Edvard,” Ashlynn said firmly. “The treasury is still
very fortified and it will take a miracle for us to break into it. Never mind
trying to take anything
out
of it.”

“What’s this?” Tierone asked his brother.

“I want to bankrupt them,” Edvard explained earnestly, glad
to have an interested listener after being told for weeks that it was
impossible. “They can’t operate if they don’t have enough money to do so. We
can always use the extra funds as well to boost our own fortifications.”

In unison Ash and Ashlynn told him sternly, “No.”

Edvard was in ‘king mode,’ so he did not pout at them.
Openly. But it was a near thing.

Tierone glanced between the three and wisely did not comment
aside from, “I think it would be very risky and tricky to try that. Let’s keep
it as a last resort. What other options can we think of?”

“Actually…” Ross frowned down at the table as he thought it
aloud, “if we’re thinking of bankrupting Iysh—which isn’t a bad idea at all,
Edvard—then maybe we can go about it a different way? Say, raid the more
fertile farmland and raze it to the ground, give them food shortages and the
like to deal with.”

Several voices raised in agreement with this plan but it was
Edvard’s turn to shake his head before the thought was completely aired. “No.
No, Ross, while I like the end result I don’t like the method. It will affect
the common people more than the government. It goes against everything that
Estole stands for. We’ll have to find a different way.”

Ross put an elbow against the table’s surface and leaned
forward, stance almost aggressive. “This is no time for moral dilemmas,
King
Edvard.” The emphasis he put on the title was a silent urge to remind Edvard of
all of the responsibilities he bore. “Your country and your own people are at
stake. If those people are still in Iysh it’s because they want to be.”

“Or they can’t afford to move,” Ash corrected. “We can’t
lump everyone into black and white for our sake, Ross.”

Ross ignored him. “Regardless, your own people are your
priority. If razing fields is the way to protect them, then that’s what we
should do.”

“Then I become no better than Zelman.” Edvard met him
squarely, eyes not flinching. “I excuse any atrocities with the need for
expedience. No, Ross. I will not.”

Frustrated, Ross flung himself back in his chair and refused
to look at anyone.

Edvard took in a breath, finding his center again and looked
around the table. “Other options?”

“We don’t have other options,” Zorich denied. The expression
on his face and the way he sat so tensely in the chair spoke of mounting
frustration. “Our resources are limited, our experts even more so. The only
viable options we have are the ones that have already been spoken. From those,
I think we have to choose the best one and find a way to make it work.”

“Make it work?” Amber repeated incredulously. “Everything
said here is going to be nearly impossible to pull off. You speak of raiding
fields in Iysh so easily but do you know how difficult that’s going to be? Any
party we send out is going to be in enemy territory without supplies or any
lines of retreat. They’re going to be out there, alone, doing a dirty deed.
Iysh will track them down eventually and then we’ll have to send out another
party, and another, and how long do you really think we can keep that up?”

“Not one suggestion spoken today is actually viable.” Her brother
backed her up with a no-nonsense tone that dared someone to argue with him. “We
need to think of something else.”

“There is nothing else,” Ross flared, his temper finally
snapping. “Zorich is right, we don’t have the resources to front some noble method
that will keep Iysh from our doorstep. We need to fight dirty just to survive,
and sacrifice people, because there’s
no other way
.”

“There is,” Troi argued even as both Bragdons said, “There
must be!”

“Well, then by all means, say it!” Zorich challenged,
slapping at the table before pointing a stern finger at all of them. “Because I
don’t see you offering any solutions, just tearing at ours!”

Broden sighed as they disintegrated into fighting. This was
not at all what the point of the council was, but at the same time he was not
too surprised at the outcome. None of them had any experience with a war
council before after all. No one knew what to do so frustrations were running
high and tempers were climbing with every word exchanged.

The arguments were in pockets, with two or three shouting at
each other, or sometimes leaning over the table to pound on it and shake angry
fingers. The volume in the room grew to an almost ear-piercing level as people
tried to make themselves heard over everyone else. It agitated Broden. After
becoming the Sherriff of Estole’s partner he was used to riots and scenes like
this and he knew that there was a certain inevitable ending to arguments like
these.

They always ended in violence.

Broden was torn between trying to get his wizard and
daughter clear of the mess before it got to the point of punches being thrown
or trying to settle people down himself. How, he was not sure, as he was fairly
certain Edvard would frown on him shooting people.

Actually, judging by that look on his face, mayhap not.
Edvard looked tempted to grab up Riana’s bow—it was within snatching
distance—and shoot a few people himself.

Ashlynn kicked her chair back, nearly flinging it against
the wall, and jerked up to her feet. Broden automatically moved with her, one
wary eye on his wizard. Uh-oh. He recognized that expression. Mayhem was about
to descend. The question was, what she planned to do.

With a flick of the fingers, her mouth started moving in a
spell. He recognized it almost instantly as it was a favorite of hers to use
when the crowd became out of control. Broden dove for the only place that was
safe to be—her back. Then he put a hand over his head and braced himself for
impact.

A deluge of water abruptly poured from the ceiling as
Ashlynn unleashed a storm indoors, drenching every occupant in the room except
herself and her archer. The only other person that managed to escape this
drenching was Gerrard, who apparently had caught her movements and had quickly
thrown up a shield around himself. Ash and Riana were not as lucky, being
entangled in an argument that faced the other direction, and they were as
soaked as everyone else.

There was dead silence except for coughing and wet, squishy
sounds as people tried to wipe water from their eyes. Ashlynn, satisfied,
turned the spell back off and glared at the lot of them. “Are we children? Do
we need to communicate at the top of our voices? You are supposed to be the
best and brightest of Estole. Act like it.”

Despite the fact that Tierone was just as drenched as
everyone else, he chuckled. “Well. I certainly feel put in my place. Thank you,
sister dearest.”

She smirked at him. “My pleasure. Shall I do it again?”

“I don’t think we’re in any danger of duels breaking out, so
no.”

Pouting, she wrinkled her nose at him. “Spoilsport.”

“This meeting is adjourned for today,” Edvard plucked at his
clothing, “so we can change into something dry.” This last bit he said while
aiming a dirty look at Ashlynn.

She lifted her chin to a lofty angle, ignoring him and
everyone else in the room, not a trace of apology on her lips.

“We’ll reconvene in a few days from now,” Edvard continued,
still looking at his sister sourly. “In the meantime, please do some research
and ponder this question. We want better ideas at the next meeting. Dismissed!”

Someone cleared their throat at the door to the dining room.
They had been trying to enjoy a late lunch, as it had been one of those days
where things seemed to enjoy going wrong all once, but Broden wasn’t surprised
that people had tracked them down to the castle this quickly. Resigned, he
looked up and around to find Marissa Allen standing there with a very uncertain
look to her face. “Marissa.”

“Broden, Sheriff, um…” a sense of distaste wrinkled the
woman’s nose up even as she relayed, “Gwydion Argent is here.”

Who? The name did not ring any bells with Broden. It
apparently did with Ashlynn, however, as she let out a wordless growl of
absolute disgust. “Him? Why is he here?”

“To speak with the king.” Marissa’s tone said this was not
her idea, she was not happy about it either, and please do not shoot the
messenger.

Acting as if it truly pained her, Ashlynn put her feet under
her and stood. “Where did you stash him?”

“The front parlor, Sheriff. I wasn’t sure what else to do
with him. He refused to stay put in the guardhouse.”

Ashlynn rolled her eyes, obviously praying for patience. “He
probably felt it beneath him. The front parlor works just fine. Go back to
work, Marissa, we’ll handle this.”

Odd, why did the mental picture of a shallow grave dug in
the dead of night spring to mind? “You really do no’ like this man.”

“Not like? That has to be the worst understatement I’ve
heard all year.” Ashlynn grabbed a roll and slice of ham before stalking for
the door. She munched on both and explained in between bites, “Gwydion Argent
is a minor baron in Iysh, not landed, although the way that family carries
themselves so pompously around would make you think they’re kissing cousins to
Zelman himself. His grandfather was a knight that did some noble deed and was
given a title because of it. They’re quite proud of it. It’s a pity that his
descendants don’t have the sense to come in out of the rain.”

The more she said, the less sense it all made. “Why would a
man like him be in Estole?”

“That is a very good question,” she admitted darkly before
tearing savagely into her roll. “I don’t have an answer. Their very existence
hangs on their connection with the royal family. I don’t think they’d survive
without that support. So why endanger that by coming here?”

“A spy, perhaps?” It was the only explanation that Broden
could think of.

“He’d be the worst spy in history to send here. Edvard hates
him. He won’t get any information by coming, not more than your average spy can
glean just by walking through our streets.” She shook her head, mind turning
over the problem at different angles. “No, this makes less and less sense.”

They arrived at Edvard’s study. As the door was wide open,
Ashlynn simply stepped through and called out a greeting, “Edvard. Drop
everything. You won’t believe who’s here.”

Edvard apparently was also having a late lunch as he had a
plate off to one side of his desk, a roll in his mouth, a report in his free
hand. At her entrance, he pulled the roll back out and asked, “Who?”

“Gwydion Argent.”

The response was instantaneous. “Who?!” Edvard repeated
incredulously, face wrinkling up with distaste.

“Gwydion Argent,” Ashlynn repeated forthrightly although she
had a sour pucker to her mouth.

“Here. In my castle.”

“Front parlor, to be exact,” Broden supplied. This reaction
on the siblings’ part was interesting. They really did not like this man.

“Take him back out and shoot him,” Edvard requested. He did
not sound like he was jesting.

“Oh, may I?” Ashlynn drawled, bouncing on her toes like a
giddy girl. “Please? You won’t have to get me anything for All-Winter.”

“Be serious, the two of ye,” Broden commanded, for once
feeling his true age. Normally he felt like an older brother because the two
were so level-headed, but today he really did feel like their father. “At least
hear the man out. I want to hear why he be here.”

“I’m rather curious on that point as well,” Ashlynn
admitted. “But if he’s too annoying, can we still shoot him?”

“Nothing prevents us from doing that,” Edvard promised her.
He actually sounded eager, as if it was a foregone conclusion that this man
would be annoying and they would get the perfect excuse to shoot him anyway.
Stealing one more bite from his plate, he led them out of the study, a skip in
his stride.

Edvard did not even try to hide his evil glee as he stepped
into the front parlor. “Argent.”

A man with lank dark hair turned around, facing them. He was
not homely or handsome but somewhere in between, as if he could be charming if
not for the pompous tilt of his chin and the puffed out chest. He was in
assumedly the latest fashion, somewhat the worse for traveling dust clinging to
him, and looked as if he would like nothing more than a lie-down. Still, he
greeted them with a courteous bow.

“Knolton. Fallbright. And I do not believe I have the
pleasure of becoming acquainted with this gentleman.”

“Broden Ravenscroft, my partner,” Ashlynn supplied. “Argent.
Why are you here?”

“It is an…indelicate situation I find myself in. After much
consideration, I deemed that you were the only person who could offer me aid.”

Broden recognized the look on Edvard’s face. He was about to
cut the man off in mid-stride. To prevent that, he hastily said, “Sit, man.
Tell us yer tale.”

Argent considered him from head to toe in a lengthy study.
“I beg your pardon, but from where do you hail?”

“Cloud’s Rest.”

“Cloud’s Rest. Oh my.” Argent gave a delicate shudder even
as he took a seat.

Broden frowned. He was beginning to understand why they
disliked this man so intensely. Ashlynn had not liked his response at all and
looked ready to start digging that shallow grave right then and there. Broden
pulled her into the seat next to his before she could go looking for a shovel.

Edvard plopped into a chair facing Argent like a child that
was told by his parents to sit still and be quiet. “Cut to the chase, Argent.”

“I have come to the decision that you should lead a complete
rebellion against Iysh.” Argent fluffed out the lace on his cuffs, focusing
there instead of meeting anyone’s eyes. “I wish for you to become the new king
of Iysh.”

If someone had dropped a pin on a cushion, it would have
been heard, the silence was that intense and absolute. Broden’s eyebrows
climbed into his hairline. The siblings nearly fell out of their chairs and
speech seemed to be beyond them.

A wry, humorless smile flitted over Argent’s face. “It’s
quite the thing for me to say that, isn’t it?”

Edvard’s childish behavior fell away and he fell into his
natural state, that of a man that could calculate and weigh and think ten years
ahead. He steepled his hands in front of his nose, hiding most of his face,
eyes an unreadable mask. “Yes. It is quite the thing. You jeopardize your whole
life by me taking power. What’s in it for you?”

“My whole life.” Argent aged ten years in that moment and
looked much wiser than the dandy he was dressed as. “Perhaps I should go back
to the beginning and explain what has brought me to this point?”

“Please,” Ashlynn choked out.

“Very well,” he acquiesced. Taking a breath, he formed his
words before speaking. “As you are both aware, my position at court is one
based upon my grandfather’s deeds in his youth and the recognition he gained
from it. We have always done our best to live up to the standards at court and to
not serve as an embarrassment to anyone. We’ve made good political marriages,
founded connections, and overall done well enough for ourselves. Or so I
thought until two months ago. It was at that time that Zelman instituted a new
law into the Bindings.”

All three of them sat up. This was something they hadn’t
heard about from their spies yet, and it was a rare event indeed to happen. The
last time the Bindings had been changed was well over two decades ago.

“The law states, and I paraphrase this, that the children of
a second or third marriage will be recognized as legitimate offspring of a
family but are not allowed to inherit. They are to be treated as one would a
branch family or a cousin and cannot receive anything of title or property from
their parents unless there are no other surviving siblings.”

That seemed a very, very strange thing for Zelman to insert
into the Bindings. Why would he limit family inheritance that way?

“Prince Hendrix,” Edvard breathed in realization. “He’s
deliberately doing this to make sure that Prince Hendrix cannot inherit the
throne. He’s taking him out of the running entirely.”

Ashlynn swore aloud. “That’s it. That must be it. Why else
would he do this?”

“That was the conclusion that the court reached as well,”
Argent concurred. “We’ve always known that there was no love lost between the
king and his youngest child. Prince Hendrix has been more or less banished from
court for the past several years, sent off on one task or another, never to be
seen for more than a month at a time. But this…we never anticipated the king
would do this. We aren’t even sure why he bothered to maneuver things in this
way as there’s very little support for Prince Hendrix in the court. It is
Prince Maddox that everyone expects to win.”

That was who everyone in Estole figured would win as well.
Broden felt it, in this moment, that what Zelman had done was a game changer.
How, he wasn’t quite sure, but this new law of the Bindings might very well be
the foothold that Edvard was waiting for.

Edvard leaned forward, eyes intense. “Argent. Correct me if
I’m wrong but I seem to recall that you are the child of a second marriage.”

Broden hissed in a breath.

“You have a good memory,” Argent praised with a bitter
smile. “Indeed I am. My father has a daughter from his first marriage but we
are many years apart and I cannot say that we are close. She has no concern for
me or the state that this new law has put me in. The way that Zelman changed
the Bindings means that even though she is a daughter she has more of a right
of inheritance than I do. I can carry the name of Argent with me but nothing
else.”

Which was what drove the man all the way here, into the
enemy camp. Broden felt the missing pieces click together and huffed out a
breath of amazement.

“Edvard, I implore you, make use of Zelman’s
miscalculation.” Argent looked desperate, as well he should. “It’s not just me
that has been landed in this intolerable situation. He’s alienated many other
young lords and ladies that are now without a viable future. You are from a
very old house, a well-respected one, and if you reached out a hand to them now
you would undoubtedly gain much in the way of support. The way that you
overturned the Bindings entirely was a revelation to us. We now see exactly why
you would do so. Please, use this chance. I offer you my services, of course.”

Broden sank back against the chair, rubbing at his chin and
studying Argent. If this was a trap, it was baited with magnificent honey. On
the other hand, would they ever have this kind of opportunity handed to them
again? It would be risky in the extreme and yet Broden was highly inclined to
take the chance anyway.

Edvard was still doing his impersonation of a statue and not
giving away his own thoughts or feelings on the matter. At least not yet.
“Argent, you gave me vital information that I did not know about. For that you
have my thanks. May I ask why this isn’t public knowledge?”

“I don’t think it really affects anyone outside of the
court. At least, not much. It’s the higher nobility that has so many
regulations and laws regarding inheritance after all.”

Broden thought it would still have some effect but it could
be that the majority of Iysh could not understand the legal language enough to
realize what the new law meant.

Edvard dipped his head in acknowledgement but not
necessarily agreement. “I see. You have given me much to think about. I wish to
confer with my council before deciding what to do. Until then, you are welcome
to remain as my guest until I can give you an answer.”

There were unshed tears in Argent’s eyes. “I find more
kindness presented to me among my enemies than among my friends. My thanks,
King of Estole. I will accept your invitation.”

“Excellent. Remain here for a moment more. I’ll have
refreshments sent to you while a room is prepared.” Edvard stood and the room
stood with him. “You are naturally invited to dinner. I will see you there.”

Words seemed to be lost to Argent and he gave a bow but said
nothing else.

They left the room and closed the door behind them before
Ashlynn let out a taut breath. “Wow. I did not see that coming.”

“Nor did I,” Edvard admitted, “although we should have
expected that Zelman would do
something
to prevent Hendrix from becoming
king. Even if it is a remote possibility he would do everything in his power to
stop it.”

“This is too extreme, though,” Ashlynn objected. “He’s
alienated a good portion of his court doing this.”

“Yes,” Edvard agreed, briskly rubbing his hands together.
“Yes, he did. Let’s take advantage and strike while the iron is hot. Ashlynn,
run down Miss Haley for me and ask her to take care of Argent. Call for Ash,
Riana, and Gerrard too. I’ll call for an emergency meeting from the council.”

“I will,” she promised. Spinning on a heel, she went toward
the back of the castle, where Miss Haley was undoubtedly in the kitchen and
overseeing the preparations of dinner.

Broden could still feel the remnants of shock reverberating
in Ashlynn’s skull. He felt them himself. This was an insane move on Zelman’s
part. How much did he detest his youngest son to do something this stupid?
“Still of the mind to shoot the man, lass?”

“I think Zelman did it for me. He’s a much more humble man
now than before. Being disinherited in one stroke like that has been good for
him.” She stopped at the corner and said to him softly, “Broden. I have this
feeling that what Zelman did is going to give us exactly the advantage we
need.”