Dragonsbane (Book 3) (30 page)

“The forest and the seas were allies, once. I hope we’ll soon be allies again. Consider my presence an act of faith,” the woman said. “The King wishes you to understand that there are lands that must be reclaimed — empty thrones that wait to be filled. The Sovereign Five squabbled over the mountains for years. You have a rare chance to extend your reach, Chaucer. The King would like for you to consider it.”

She spoke with all the deadly hush of lightning behind the clouds. A long moment passed before Chaucer replied: “I have absolutely no interest in a throne. A man who sits upon a throne is exposed to his people, but a man who sits behind a desk is protected. As chancellor, there are dozens of votes between me and any misfortune — and dozens of goats to shoulder the blame. A ruler has no such luxury. This business of new lands, however …” There was the tapping of papers being arranged; the clearing of a throat. “Are the rumors true, then? Has Titus really managed to carve a road through the mountains?”

“Yes,” the woman said. “The Earl believed he would be out of the King’s reach at the summit. But in trying to make his army’s path easier, he’s slit his own throat. Titus’s road runs directly to the gates of his castle. A well-stocked army will have no difficulty reaching it.

“The reign of the Sovereign Five has ended, chancellor,” the woman went on. “A new order has begun — one in which all who defy Midlan will be destroyed. You have a rare opportunity to earn the seas a little power over the other regions.” Her hands spread wide. “Don’t waste it.”

There was a creak as Chaucer shifted his weight. “It isn’t that simple. None of this will pass without a vote — and there are still plenty of councilmen against it. I’m afraid I’m little more than a mediator.”

“Reginald’s death left you in a dangerous position, chancellor,” the woman murmured. “You know this, and your people know it as well. You wouldn’t have offered Crevan your allegiance if you believed you had any other choice. There will be some resistance, I’m sure. But the King’s terms are not unreasonable, and there’s much to be gained. All you have to do is make sure the council sees it.”

There was a sound of fingernails raking across stubble. “And if it fails … what then?” Chaucer said after a moment. “The King won’t wait forever. What if I do everything in my power —?”

“You won’t have to do anything. The vote will pass.” Thelred could almost hear the smile in the woman’s voice as she added: “I’ll see to it.”

Chaucer’s harsh laugh grated against Thelred’s ears. Then came the rustling of parchment. “I’m going to keep these conditions close, if you don’t mind. It’s not that I don’t trust His Majesty’s word —”

“I’m a daughter of the seas, in case you’ve forgotten,” the woman murmured. “You don’t have to explain your reasoning to me.”

Chaucer laughed again, and the woman stood. Thelred was leaning to look through the top of the keyhole when a pair of strong hands grabbed him around the shoulders.

They swung him back — then hurled him through the door.

Chapter 27

On Good Terms

Splinters showered down Thelred’s neck as the latch gave way. His ears went numb against the sound of his head slamming into the door’s hardened flesh. He fell flat on his chest and gasped at the sudden emptiness in his lungs.

No sooner had he struck the ground than the hands came back. They flipped him over roughly, forcing him to stare at the ceiling. The tip of a sword bit the middle of his chest. Thelred followed the steady line of the blade up to its wielder …

Impossible.

The forest man stared back at him — the very same man he’d seen enter Chaucer’s office. He heard the noise of a second blade sliding from its sheath and saw the forest man’s reflection standing at the other end of the room.

“There’re two of you,” he said without thinking.

“Twins,” a woman replied.

She stood before of one of Chaucer’s gaudy chairs, hands clasped at her middle. Golden brown hair flowed past her shoulders. The soft lines of her face drew him to her crystal eyes … but her stare made him shiver.

He knew without a doubt that this must be Countess D’Mere.

“What’s the meaning of this, chancellor?” the Countess said, without ever taking her eyes off of Thelred.

Chaucer hardly glanced up from the parchment he’d been reading. “That’s nothing more than a common sea thief, Countess. We’ve tried our best to civilize them, but it’s difficult to train rats.”

The Countess’s icy gaze never faltered. “I see. Shall I handle it?”

Chaucer sighed heavily as he stood. “No, you’d better let me.”

Thelred knew the moment he met Chaucer’s eyes that he was in very serious trouble — mostly because the left one was still a bit swollen.

It had been nearly a month since the bee incident. When Chaucer had opened the voting chalice and that hive had come crashing in, he’d thought it been worth it — worth the trouble, worth having to endure Aerilyn’s squawking for three days after, worth the few stings he’d gotten himself to watch the councilmen hike up their girth and run for their lives.

It’d certainly been worth the wait to see just how horribly Chaucer’s head would swell: he wound up having to wrap his face in bandages and call the session short.

But now, as that still-swollen eye glared down at him, Thelred realized that it was Chaucer’s turn to do the stinging. He was about to find out if it’d all truly been worth it.

Chaucer’s boots dragged as he stepped around to the front of his desk. He spent a long moment folding up the piece of parchment he’d been reading. His fingers slid along each crease with deliberate slowness, pinching them tightly at their ends. When he’d finally shoved the parchment inside his coat pocket, he
tsk
ed and shook his head.

“Tell me, thief … why were your little rat ears planted against my door?”

Why were
you
allying with our enemies
?
The words leapt to the tip of Thelred’s tongue just as the sword at his chest dug in. He grit his teeth. “I wasn’t listening. I was just —”

“Thelred!”

Aerilyn swept in, her eyes already wet with tears. She threw herself upon Chaucer and gasped: “Please don’t hurt him, chancellor. He isn’t well —”

“Aerilyn?”

She spun as if she’d just taken an arrow to the back. “Countess D’Mere! What a surprise. I didn’t expect to — oops.” She went to drop into a quick curtsy and tripped instead — barely managing to catch herself on Chaucer’s coat. “Oh my, I’m so terribly sorry!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Stand up, girl,” Chaucer grouched as he propped her onto her feet.

Thelred realized that the only thing that might save them now was the fact that Aerilyn and the Countess seemed to know each other. He hoped they were on good terms … though judging by the look on the Countess’s face, they weren’t.

Her hands curled into claws at her sides. She stared at the bump beneath Aerilyn’s dress with her lips sealed shut. The skin around her eyes had paled … yet the arches of her cheeks burned a furious red.

“What happened to you?”

Four words. Four simple words, and the room filled with ice.

Chaucer — that complete and total idiot — chose that very moment to let out a laugh. “This is what becomes of a pirate’s whore,” he said, waving a hand at Aerilyn’s belly.

The Countess’s eyes snapped up to him. “Indeed.”

Two syllables — two thrusts of a knife. Thelred could hear each flick of her tongue twisting in and out. But Chaucer went on laughing, deaf to the danger.

Aerilyn placed her hands over her stomach protectively. “My husband and I are expecting our first child, Countess.”

“Husband?” she hissed.

“Yes, Countess. I’ve got a few months left to go. I expect I’ll get quite a bit more swollen before then — but we’re ever so excited. Please, Countess,” tears sprang into her eyes as she looked down at Thelred, “please don’t hurt him.”

There weren’t enough swears in the Kingdom. Had he known every mage-word and half the desert tongues, Thelred didn’t think he would’ve ever been able to express his profound …
displeasure
with Aerilyn.

The whole icy edge of the Countess’s gaze swept across him. “Your husband is a pirate?”

Her stare made the backs of Thelred’s eyes ache, but he tried to meet it. He knew full well that Aerilyn was bargaining for their lives — whether she realized it or not was another matter.

“Yes, Countess — well, at least he used to be a pirate. Now he runs a merchanting business out of the Endless Plains.”

Chaucer snorted. “He
stole
the whole business, more like. The giants refuse to deal with anybody else.”

Slowly, the Countess’s lips slid out of their harsh line and bent into a purse. “He runs the whole plains, does he?” When Aerilyn nodded, her fists unclenched. “Your father would be pleased to hear that.”

“I’d like to think so, Countess,” she said quietly.

A long moment passed and Thelred could hardly stand to look. He glared at the ceiling and tried not to breathe too deeply. After a moment, the Countess waved to her guard and the sword lifted from his chest.

“You may leave.”

Thelred couldn’t believe it.

Apparently Chaucer couldn’t believe it either, because he sputtered and said: “Wait a moment — there’s still the question as to why that thief was listening at my door.”

All eyes turned to Thelred. And as he had nowhere else to look, Thelred turned to Aerilyn.

Limp
, she mouthed.

“I … was headed to my chamber when my leg began to ache. I stopped for a moment to catch my breath, and your guard must’ve thought I was up to something.”

Aerilyn raised her brows, silently urging him on.

So as much as he hated it, Thelred forced himself to groan. “It’s sore every other day, but that blasted damp heat makes everything worse. I’m sorry if I’ve caused you any trouble.”

He made a great show of wincing as he pulled himself to his feet. Aerilyn stepped up and draped one of his arms across her shoulders. “I’m sure he’ll feel better in time for the session,” she said as she helped him towards the door.

“I do hope you’re right.” When Thelred turned, he saw the Countess watching him through a smooth mask. “You ought to go upstairs. Lie down for a while and give that leg a rest.”

The words burned his tongue like venom, but he forced himself to spit them out: “Yes, Countess.”

With Aerilyn helping him, they limped down the hall and into the ballroom. A few chairs were gathered in a corner of the chamber. Aerilyn sat him down and propped his leg up before she settled in beside him. One of the servants must’ve seen the sweat drenching Thelred’s tunic: he brought them both a goblet of water before returning his duties.

“Listen to me carefully,” Aerilyn said the moment he was gone, “I need you to tell me everything you heard exactly as you heard it.”

Thelred didn’t see what good talking about it was going to do. But he’d dealt with Aerilyn long enough to know that she’d just squawk at him until she got her way. So he told her everything he could remember.

When he was finished, she looked slightly disappointed. “That’s it? That’s all they said?”

“What? Were you expecting it to be
worse
?” Thelred hissed. “Chaucer’s signed on with the King!”

Aerilyn waved a hand. “That was bound to happen eventually. We can’t exactly bargain our way out of trouble, now that the Duke’s dead. So Chaucer knows it’s either war
or surrender.”

“I’d choose war!”

“Then it’s a very good thing you aren’t chancellor,” Aerilyn retorted.

Thelred couldn’t look at her. He was far too furious. He took a steady drink of water, wishing it were something a little stronger. When he turned back, he saw Aerilyn had a leaf of parchment clutched in her hands.

It was the very same leaf he’d seen Chaucer stuff into his coat. “You snatched that when you tried to curtsy, didn’t you?” Thelred guessed.

She smirked. “I’m a little uneven at the moment. That doesn’t mean I’ve suddenly gotten clumsy.”

“Where did you learn —?”

“Lysander teaches me all sorts of things,” she said impatiently. “Now be quiet while I read.”

Thelred looked her over. “But where did you hide it?”

She made an indignant sound. “You aren’t allowed to ask a lady about her hiding places! Honestly, Thelred — I don’t think your manners could be any more ghastly.”

While she read, Thelred hunched forward and tried to block her from view. They’d been sitting for no more than a few minutes when one of the forest twins appeared across the room.

He stood, bold as a southern wind, and watched them without blinking.

“One of the Countess’s dogs is following us,” Thelred growled.

“I’m not surprised. She’s got an awful lot riding on this vote.” Aerilyn sighed and leaned back. “They’ve already drafted a treaty. This,” she waved the parchment, “is a detailed list of all the things the King expects to get from the seas — not the least of which is an invasion of the mountains.” 

So
that
was what they’d been talking about, the claiming of new lands and the stretching of reach. Crevan had lost his grip on Titus … and he was planning to use the people of the seas to get it back.

“That isn’t a treaty — it’s a trap,” Thelred growled. “If they haven’t starved to death, they’ll be beaten to scabs at the summit. Any man not lucky enough to die in battle will freeze to the mountainside trying to climb back down. It’s madness.”

“Especially since there’s already an army
in
the mountains,” Aerilyn muttered, her eyes on the twin.

Thelred had forgotten about that. He had to stuff a fist against his mouth to keep from swearing aloud. “We have to do something … what if I have the men steal the voting chalice?”

“Then they’ll just put their votes in a bowl, or something. The chalice makes no difference.”

“Well, then we’ll tamper with the votes.”

“How? Unless I’m very much mistaken, you and I have gone to all the same meetings,” Aerilyn snipped. “There’s no secret room anymore — after Colderoy got elected, the council decided it wouldn’t risk another tampering. The chalice sits straight at the front of the ballroom and Chaucer never lets it out of his sight. And, since that nasty incident with the bees, he makes certain to keep it well
beneath
the balcony,” she added with a glare. “Fiddling with the votes isn’t going to be an option.”

Thelred glared back. “Fine. Then why don’t you think of something?”

She watched the servants bustle about for a moment, her lips twisted in a frown. Then she gasped so suddenly that it made Thelred jump. “Yes, there it is! See here.” Aerilyn pointed to a line on the conditions list. “
All forces shall be supplied with weaponry and armor in the fashion of Midlan
.”

Thelred thought about it. “Crevan’s going to send them marching up the mountains dressed like a lot of scabs from Midlan … why would he do that?”

“I haven’t got a clue. But that isn’t really what’s important, is it? We can’t stop the vote, but I think …” she smiled as she glanced over the list, “I think I might’ve figured out a way to buy us a little time. The last thing we need is for our friends in the mountains to get caught between Titus and Crevan.”

For once, Thelred agreed. “What do you need me to do?”

“Just sit somewhere and stay out of trouble.”

Thelred didn’t like the idea of slumping around and leaving everything in Aerilyn’s hands. But if she was going to be running around the castle all day, he knew he couldn’t keep up. “I’ll just go upstairs, then —”

“No!” She grabbed his shoulder tightly. “Um, I mean, it would probably be best if you stayed around people at all times. Never be alone, not even for a moment.”