Enchanter (Book 7) (65 page)

Our first stop was the office of Domains, Lands & Estates,in the dusty basement catacombs of the palace.  There Lady Arnet and her staff oversaw the vast records of the Duchy – and now the Kingdom – and kept track of who owned what and (more importantly) how much in tribute and military service they owed. 

But the ancient gray-haired woman was more than that – she was also one of the heads of the unofficial royal intelligence service, the Family.  She had overseen Duchess Grendine’s rise to power, developed the cadre of beautiful female assassins the Family used to make extrajudicial policy decisions, and helped analyze the politics of the moment to select which enemies of the Family needed attention.

I left Ruderal in the waiting area and used my rank to bully my way into her dusty office, where her macabre collection of decorative thimbles reminded me of just how dangerous the woman was.

“Ah! Baron Minalan,” she said, pleasantly, apparently undisturbed by my thwarting of her assistant’s efforts to make me wait.  “To what do I owe this visit?”

“A little business,” I said, handing her the sheaf of parchment.  “One of my vassals was attacked by a neighbor, and was forced to go to war with him.  As it turns out, he conquered the entire domain, and would like that recognized.”

“Oh really?” she asked, mildly “A which rustic mountain domain did he conquer?”

“Rolone,” I answered.  I was gratified at her expression.  It is said that Lady Arnet knows every domain and estate in Castal by heart, and a goodly number of those in Remere, Alshar, and Merwyn.  Rolone wasn’t particularly well-known, outside of the Bontal Vales, but she knew precisely where it was.  She probably knew off the top of her head how much tribute the domain paid and how many lances and hearths it held. 

“That . . . is no small domain, she said, clearing her throat and examining the scrolls, after breaking their seals.  “This . . . Lord Lorcus was only ennobled and given his estate a few weeks ago, I recall.”

“And was attacked unprovoked by agents of Rolone immediately after,” I fibbed.  “He fulfilled his responsibilities as lord of the domain by authoring a reprisal.”  She continued scanning the document.

“And took five castles?  In
two weeks?”
she asked, shocked.

“He’s a
very
good vassal,” I shrugged.  “But he took them in a scrupulously legal fashion.  With very little loss of life.”

“And the domain lord – former domain lord – has been made aware that he was at war with this . . . Amel Wood?”

“As he began the hostilities, one cannot imagine that he was unaware that they existed,” I pointed out.  “But Lord Lorcus has dispatched a herald with the proper documents to Sire Cullien’s— sorry, Sir Cullien’s encampment in the northern Sashtali confederation.”

“Ah, so the lord was already engaged in war when he began this skirmish,” she nodded.  “Well, these do seem in order.  Even witness statements attesting to the conquest from Sir Cullien’s former vassals and retainers.  Very well done, Excellency.  I do enjoy it when the parchment is in order when someone walks through my door.  You have the filing fee?”

I waved my hand and opened a pocket in one of my rings.  A leather sack with three hundred ounces of silver appeared and thudded to her desk with a clink.  I love doing that.

Lady Arnet was startled, but she did not let it faze her.  She wrote out two copies of the Kingdom’s recognition of Lorcus’ conquest and a receipt for the fee, and it was official.  She handed me my copy after sanding the file copy, adding it to the stack concerning Rolone.

“Now that that is done, is there anything else?”

“Just a friendly inquiry,” I said, coming to my real business with the old assassin.  “Family business.”

She barely acknowledged it.  “I see.  What would you like to know?”

“I’ve recently received some attention from one of the Sisters,” I said, referring to how the Family’s assassins named themselves in code.  “As I know she is highly placed in the Family, I need to know if her efforts are directed from Mother, or if she is working to her own purposes.”

“Baroness Isily,” she sighed.  “I was always concerned about Mother’s decision to wed her to that . . . that lecherous old goat.  I never liked Dunselen,” she admitted.  “Never.  I knew too much about him.  A decent administrator, but hardly someone I’d want one of my girls to marry.”

“So why did Mother do that?”

Lady Arnet studied me, clearly deciding just how much to tell me.  “Just because Dunselen is a wart on the scrotum of masculinity,” she said, with distaste, “doesn’t mean he cannot serve a useful purpose.  After Isily’s sterling service in the establishment of the kingdom,” she said, obliquely referencing her work magically assassinating Duke Lenguin after the Battle of Timberwatch, “she was granted certain degree of freedom and autonomy, as well as a special portfolio.”

“Being Mother’s eyes and ears on the Arcane Orders,” I supplied.

“Ignoring such a potent force in Kingdom politics would be unwise, would it not?  But that was the extent of her mission, to my knowledge.  Her union with Dunselen was meant to secure her access to you and your inner circle, on the supposition that you were close.  And to give her an estate, title, and position.  Nothing more.”

“Me and Dunselen?” I asked, aghast.  “Close?  For an intelligence service, you people really have a hard time getting your facts straight.  I loathe the man,” I admitted.

“Then why go out of your way to protect him?” she countered.  “When he started on his ambitious campaign of conquest, and you were warned to reign him in, why did you not take action?”

“I did take action,” I replied, evenly.  “But I had to protect the interests of my profession, as well.  As distasteful as Dunselen is, he did not violate any ethical canons or laws of the Order.  Punishing him for being a wart would have been gratifying, but it would have seemed arbitrary to some of my most powerful magelords.”

“I can understand that,” she said, reasonably.  “And I cannot fault your administration.  The rules must be followed, even when they work against policy.  But as you took no action, Mother decided to turn a problem into an opportunity.  The alternative was to have him added to my collection,” she said, nodding toward her array of thimbles.  Each one represented an assassination she had ordered.

“Well, I’m happy you did not set the precedent,” I sighed.  “He is, as you suggest, our mutual problem.  But in taking this opportunity, I think perhaps Mother miscalculated.  Baroness Isily has her own aims in this marriage,” I warned.  “She is building an independent power base.”

“What high noble doesn’t?” she shrugged.  “That’s domain politics, something which the Family only concerns itself with if it becomes an issue of governance.  As long as she obeys the law swears fealty, pays her tribute, and doesn’t rebel against the crown she is free to do as she wishes.  The rules must be followed.  She may well have her own aims – she is a deep one, that girl.  A real schemer,” she said, with a mixture of concern and matronly pride. 

“When those plots are directed at me, I have to take notice,” I said, quietly.

That got her attention.  “She’s taken action against you?”

“Subtly, but yes,” I agreed. 

“You wizards and your plots,” she said, shaking her head.  “I swear to Kulin you see shadows under the noonday sun and insist night is falling.”

“I have more than enough reason to suspect her,” I continued, dismissing her dismissal.  “I just wanted to inform you, as a professional courtesy, of my concerns.  And make certain that her actions were not at the direction of the Family.  Because that would put an entirely different perspective on our conversation.”

She stared at me, feeling challenged.  “She is acting on her own.  But for the sake of argument, what do you really think you could do against the Family if we did decide to add you to the collection?” she asked.  I could tell she was amused by the idea. 

I tapped the stack of parchment concerning Rolone’s conquest.  “Twenty men took five castles in two weeks.  Warmagi,” I reminded her. 

“They were favored by Ifnia,” she smirked.

“They were restrained by caution and my orders,” I countered.  “I asked them, as a favor, to take their time and spare as much life and property damage as possible.  Had I not intervened, it would have taken half the time, led to hundreds of casualties, and the destruction of five reasonably expensive castles.”

“One domain,” she shrugged.  “There are thousands.”

“The point is that we are no longer mere spellmongers and footwizards, my lady.  The point is that we have risen to power, and that power grows in sophistication with each passing year.  I fully appreciate the forces which the Family can bring to bear against me . . . but I think you fail to appreciate just how powerful we are.”

“We are well aware of your recent advances,” she informed me.  “Do you think we leave Sevendor un-watched?”  In fact I knew the identities of all three of the Family’s spies in my domain.  And I knew how to keep sensitive information out of their view.  I tolerated them because I knew they could prove useful, at some point.  Besides, it’s nice to know the names of your potential assassins ahead of time.  It keeps things from becoming awkward.

“I have spared everyone a grand demonstration of that power because I do not want to upset the current precarious political situation.  I still support the Royal Family and the regime, despite my recent issues with Prince Tavard.  Appreciate that, if you will, in context of what I am saying: should the Family come against me, then that loyalty and that dedication to the success of the Kingdom will falter.  And that could have long-term consequences a lady of your insight, intelligence, and experience should be able to appreciate.”

“We do not want war with magefolk,” she assured me. 

“Then do not tempt one,” I agreed, pleasantly.  “For the kingdom, the duchy, and all you have worked for your entire life would fall before your eyes before a year has passed.”  She didn’t want to show that the idea worried her, but I assumed that her long dedication to her position of quiet service could only be motivated by her devotion to the ideal of centralized power. 

“I see your point, Spellmonger,” she said, her lips drawn tight.  “We understand what powerful friends you are.  We don’t want to spoil that.  If you feel the need to take action against Isily, for her own machinations, then the Family will allow it without reprisal.  Within reasonable limits,” she cautioned.

“Understood, my lady,” I said with a bow.  “Now if you excuse me, I would like to try to arrange an audience with the Princess, before I go.  A courtesy call,” I explained.  “But I am gratified that we understand each other.  Indeed, the entire point of my visit was to ensure that there would not be any misunderstandings about my motivations.  I trust you will relay that to Mother?”

“Of course, Excellency,” she said, with a short bow that revealed more of the thimble collection behind her.  From what I recalled, there were seven new thimbles there.  Two were in silver, one in gold.  “The Office of Domains, Lands & Estates exists only to serve.”

Chapter Thirty

Princess Rardine

It took another hour of shaking down the castellans until I was able to get them to approach Princess Rardine’s attendants with a request for a private audience.  I finally was given word that Her Highness would entertain my request in the late afternoon in the tulip garden.

That sounded preferable to the Queen’s favorite haunt the Rose Garden; that was where I’d discovered her alternate role as the duchy’s spymaster . . . and was assigned my own personal assassin in the guise of a manservant. I’m not particularly fond of roses as a result.

The tulip garden was actually in the outer bailey, and like most of the placenames at Wilderhall it was undescriptive of its true function.  Though the out-of-the-way corner of the vast bailey was, in fact, filled with tulips in bloom, the meticulously-tended formal garden contained a small cottage-like structure with wide windows and decorative awnings.  Just the place for ladies to sit in repose in the coolness of shade during the hot summer months.

The Princess was alone, save for four maids who were also likely assassins, and four bored-looking armed, armored guards stationed at the entrances of both garden and cot.  All eight of her attendants were leaving her alone, allowing her to read a book and sip wine.  I gave my name to the young woman who approached me, and she led me passed the guards.  I told Ruderal to wait outside for me.  I doubted the lad could get in much trouble in a tulip garden.

“Ah, the Spellmonger!” Rardine said with a tone of enthusiasm I wasn’t certain was genuine or mocking.  “What brings you to Wilderhall?”

“A little business, Highness,” I said with a casual bow, as the pretty assassin left.  I took a seat unbidden across from the neat little room, and removed my hat out of respect.  “But I did want to stop by and pay my respects.  I was curious how your recent travels to Remere fared?”

She snorted derisively.  “You mean Mother’s attempt to marry me off quickly, before my brother starts seeing me as a threat to his reign?”

I paused.  “Yes, that one.”

“It was bloody awful, if you must know,” she said, expressively.  “I met dozens of potential suitors.  None were adequate in both rank and form.  Old counts, or young barons, or even common merchants . . . I interviewed plenty of prospects, but I found them all wanting.”