Defiant Peaks (The Hadrumal Crisis) (59 page)

‘What did you discuss?’ Den Dalderin asked quickly.

‘Besides child-rearing and gowns and jewellery?’ Zurenne leaned forward, her face serious. ‘They wished to return the bones of some Halferan men enslaved by the corsairs. They hope to return more remains as the seasons turn, as evidence of their good faith towards Caladhria. They wish us to know that they do not hold us responsible for whatever Hadrumal’s wizards have done in Archipelagan waters any more than we should blame them for the corsairs’ crimes against us.’

Den Dalderin would have learned this already in the village tavern or on the road through the barony. Those funeral pyres had been the talk of the demesne and beyond.

‘What do they ask in return?’ Yadres leaned forward in like fashion, inviting her confidences.

‘Our goodwill, as I said.’ Zurenne looked at him, puzzled. ‘Our oath that we don’t blame them for the corsairs’ crimes.’

‘Quite so.’ Den Dalderin stood up and bowed low to Zurenne before acknowledging Reven and Kusint with a brief nod. ‘I hope that you will both prosper in the season to come.’

Reven opened the door to the archway through to the gatehouse. ‘Shall I fetch you your horse, Esquire?’

‘You are welcome to stay for cakes and cordial with the household this holiday morning.’ Let him try flirting with Ilysh, if that was his intention, so youthful and handsome in such fine clothes, with Reven and Kusint at his side. ‘If you leave by mid-morning, you will still make a good day’s journey—’ Zurenne broke off, innocently confused. ‘To where? Are you returning to Attar?’

‘No, I am heading north.’ Now there was the faintest challenge in Den Dalderin’s eye. ‘I am to deliver my uncle’s compliments to Baron Karpis, among others.’

Zurenne smiled. ‘Please offer his lady wife my best wishes for the season.’

And she would write to Lady Diress within the day, to learn what the detestable baron’s admirable wife might tell her about their visitor.

‘I will be sure to do that.’ Den Dalderin nodded at Reven. ‘Please do fetch my horse and I will be on my way.’

Zurenne remained seated at the two men left for the manor courtyard. ‘Tell Master Kheda to stay out of sight until he has gone,’ she told Kusint quickly. ‘Then I will wish to speak to him.’

‘Very good, my lady.’ Kusint’s face hardened slightly. ‘When will he be on his way, might I ask?’

‘Very soon,’ Zurenne assured the Forest-born captain.

She left the gatehouse for the courtyard and watched a groom bring Den Dalderin his horse. She noted the Tormalin spy noticing that she hadn’t stayed closeted with Kusint to discuss their recent conversation.

Going to stand by the manor’s shrine door, Zurenne waved to the young nobleman as he mounted and rode away. As soon as Den Dalderin was out of sight and unable to glance over his shoulder to see her fail to return to the great hall, she hurried back to the gatehouse and up the stairs leading to the guest apartments.

She knocked on the door to the largest bedchamber and Kheda promptly opened it.

‘Your guard captain told me about your inquisitive visitor.’ He grinned. ‘He said that you were the embodiment of a Caladhrian lady, oblivious to anything beyond her household’s concerns.’

Zurenne reflected how recently that would have been an entirely accurate description of her. ‘I don’t like to think of the Tormalin Emperor’s spymaster looking so closely at Halferan. I would far rather he looked elsewhere.’

She walked to the window overlooking the road to the bridge crossing the brook and leading to the village beyond. Yadres Den Dalderin hadn’t yet reached the fork where he must choose to return to the village or to head for the high road.

‘Where would you like to draw Tormalin eyes?’ Kheda enquired as she turned away from the window.

‘Do you think that there are other Archipelagan warlords who might wish to follow Khusro’s example and rid their treasure houses of magic? Do you think that such Aldabreshi would be prepared to deal with the lords of Antathele, Licanin or Tallat? All those baronies sent their swordsmen to attack the corsairs and their forbidden magic.’

Zurenne had been pondering this for some days now, concerned that Halferan would draw jealous Caladhrian eyes if the barony became the only apparent conduit for renewed trade with the Archipelago. She had no more wish for such scrutiny and the parliamentary debate which would surely follow, than she did for Imperial Tormalin attention.

Kheda nodded slowly. ‘Miris Esul might be persuaded to consider dealing with a Caladhrian baron of proven good character. He would have grave doubts about involving any of his wives in such perilous matters. Were he to lead, other warlords might well follow.’

‘Then would you go with Reven and a company of Halferan guardsmen, to take letters to these lords, asking if they would be willing to receive envoys from the Archipelago?’

Zurenne had already been considering how best to phrase such letters; allowing these noble lords to believe that they were doing Halferan a favour while hinting plainly at the benefits which their baronies would accrue from taking the lead in restoration of trade with the southern islands.

She would be happy to see these lords profit. Halferan owed Licanin more than she could possibly repay, and Antathele had proved an unexpectedly loyal ally while Lord Tallat deserved some recompense for being an unwitting pawn in Corrain and the Archmage’s schemes.

Would Yadres Den Dalderin get wind of this? Zurenne could only hope so. Surely he must be an efficient spy if he was serving the Emperor’s chief intelligencer.

‘Then will you carry word to these warlords,’ she asked Kheda, ‘offering to help rid them of lurking magic?’

She didn’t imagine Den Dalderin would follow Kheda into the Archipelago but that didn’t matter as long as the Tormalin spy was occupied dogging his trail around Caladhria until Corrain returned to Halferan and whatever he had been doing for the Archmage could be concealed behind some further veil of half-truth and misdirection.

‘I would be willing to do all this and more in hopes of ending this hostility.’ Kheda pursed his lips. ‘Have you discussed your scheme with Madam Jilseth?’

The magewoman? Zurenne hadn’t seen her since her brief visit a handful of days ago, and they had barely exchanged ten words. Jilseth had come to tell Kheda that another Aldabreshin domain was threatening the wizard isle, incredible though that might seem. She had asked if he had any means to send messages or receive replies from any other domains beyond Khusro. Kheda had said that he would exchange courier doves with the Khusro wives, to inform them and see what he could learn, but there was little more that he could do. Jilseth had left in a seething fury which Zurenne had found profoundly unnerving.

‘I will tell the Archmage himself this very afternoon,’ Zurenne said resolutely.

‘Very well.’ Kheda went to open his travelling bag.

He took out an Aldabreshin compass, no larger than the palm of his hand. The round brass base was engraved with arcing lines and mysterious symbols, overlaid with a further intricate plate pierced and shaped into interlocking circles and arcs studded with tiny gems.

‘The Ruby will stand in the arc of wealth at the start of the new year and beyond, offering forty days of its influence to counter the Emerald in the arc of death.’ Kheda pushed the brass bar revolving around the central pivot with a thoughtful finger. ‘Let me consider which will be the most auspicious days for these warlords to send their envoys to the noble barons, and when the heavens would be most favourable for them to submit their treasures for scrutiny once they have arrived on the mainland.’

‘Let me know by the end of the day and I will advise our allies accordingly in my letters.’ Zurenne’s spirits rose, emboldened by Kheda’s ready co-operation. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I will return to my people and their celebrations.’

She went down the stairs to the guardroom and opened the door. ‘Captain Kusint, tell Reven to pick a troop and make ready to travel tomorrow—’

Zurenne halted on the threshold, surprised to see Ilysh and Hosh sat at the table. Kusint stood between them, contemplating a spread of runes. She realised that those bones were laid out for some Forest foretelling, not merely cast in a game of chance.

‘What did the Tormalin spy want?’ Ilysh asked quickly. ‘What were you talking to Master Kheda about?’

‘We can discuss that in due course.’ Zurenne had already realised that she would have to include Ilysh in her plans. Letters to Licanin, Antathele and Tallat would have to go out under the barony’s seal and over the acknowledged Lady Halferan’s signature.

Well, since she commanded the yeomanry and tenantry’s true loyalty, Ilysh would need to learn far more of the intricacies of life than more sheltered Caladhrian noble maidens.

So much for the future. Zurenne had more immediate concerns. ‘What are you doing?’

Ilysh bit her lip. ‘Hosh has been telling us what Corrain is doing.’

As the young man looked at Zurenne, she was struck anew by the marvel of his healed face. Then she saw the depth of apprehension in his eyes.

‘The captain has gone north to find the
sheltya
, those who use aetheric magic in the mountains,’ Hosh explained. ‘The Archmage hopes that they will have some Artifice to counter the Soluran adepts who threaten Hadrumal.’

‘Soluran adepts?’ Zurenne didn’t understand. ‘I thought it was some other Aldabreshi who were plotting against the wizard isle?’

Hosh looked guiltily at her. ‘The captain helped to uncover a Soluran conspiracy while we were in Col.’

‘I see.’ Zurenne found that didn’t come as a surprise particularly; any more than the news that Corrain was now somehow hip-deep in whatever had followed. If ripples of unease had reached as far as Tormalin to stir the Imperial spymaster to send out his minions, why shouldn’t the consequences of the corsair island’s destruction have reached beyond the Great Forest?

‘I asked Kusint to see if the runes offered any guidance as to whether or not he will succeed,’ Ilysh explained.

‘Do you see any such indication?’ Zurenne looked at the Forest youth.

He shook his head slowly. ‘Forgive me but I cannot tell.’

‘May I sit?’ Zurenne took the empty chair as Hosh scrambled to his feet. Since Ilysh seemed perfectly capable of keeping herself informed, she might as well follow her daughter’s lead.

‘You had better tell me what’s happened in Col, most particularly what has convinced Baron Corrain to make such a journey. When did the Archmage last have word from him? Is he travelling with Madam Jilseth or some other mage?’

Hosh looked even more anxious. ‘He’s with a Mountain woman. She used to be one of these
sheltya
but she was exiled. She still has her Artifice though. But Madam Jilseth says that she cannot find the captain through her scrying and none of the adepts in Col can make the Mountain woman hear them.’

He gazed at the rune bones lying mute and motionless on the table. ‘That’s why I hoped Kusint might have some way of telling us how he’s faring.’

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-
O
NE

The Upper White River, Northern Ensaimin

4th of For-Spring

‘H
OW MUCH FURTHER
have we got to go? You said that these
sheltya
were bound to meet us if we travelled north of Wrede. That was ten days ago.’