Warlord (41 page)
Authors: Jennifer Fallon
Lernen was instantly suspicious. “What do you want?”
“I’m not actually interested in becoming High Prince any time soon so get rid of that damned armour, would you? As a favour to me.”
“It was a gift.”
“It was given to you by your enemies to make you vulnerable, Uncle. A target. Don’t fall into their trap. For my sake, if not your own,” he added.
Lernen threw his hands up helplessly. “How can I dispose of it without offending the High Arrion? If I don’t wear it in battle, she’ll know. Even if I don’t finish up with an arrow through me, that slimy son of hers will report it straight back to her and then she’ll start yelling at me … and asking me why and … well, I just don’t like it when she yells at me.”
“You could give it away,” Damin suggested, not bothering to point out that Alija wasn’t here to yell at anybody. Lernen was probably right about Cyrus reporting it back to his mother, though.
“To whom?”
“How about someone who does something very brave? Alija can’t fault you for rewarding great valour with something so precious.”
“Do we have anybody who’s done something brave?”
“I’m sure we will have soon, Uncle Lernen. We’re going to war, after all.”
Lernen smiled. “You find someone to give it to, Damin, and it will be his.”
“Thank you, Uncle.”
“Thank
you,
nephew. I’m lucky to have people like you and your mother looking out for me.”
you,
nephew. I’m lucky to have people like you and your mother looking out for me.”
You’re lucky to have people like me and my mother to do your thinking for you,
Damin corrected silently, but he was too polite to say such a thing out loud. Instead he bowed and opened the door for the High Prince so they could have some lunch before continuing their council of war.
Damin corrected silently, but he was too polite to say such a thing out loud. Instead he bowed and opened the door for the High Prince so they could have some lunch before continuing their council of war.
A
lija took her time getting ready when Tressa informed her Galon Miar was waiting downstairs to see her. It was important, she felt, to appear at her best. And her most controlled. Nobody would ever learn of the depth of her grief for her
court’esa.
Not only was it unseemly to feel so deeply for a slave, her grief exposed a weakness she had no wish to reveal. So Alija took her time and made herself beautiful, the cosmetics and her robes of office surrounding her like a shield designed to protect her from her own vulnerability.
lija took her time getting ready when Tressa informed her Galon Miar was waiting downstairs to see her. It was important, she felt, to appear at her best. And her most controlled. Nobody would ever learn of the depth of her grief for her
court’esa.
Not only was it unseemly to feel so deeply for a slave, her grief exposed a weakness she had no wish to reveal. So Alija took her time and made herself beautiful, the cosmetics and her robes of office surrounding her like a shield designed to protect her from her own vulnerability.
She’d not seen the assassin since before Tarkyn Lye’s murder. The coincidence was not lost on Alija and she wondered as she descended the stairs if Galon had stayed away because he knew something that would incriminate the Assassins’ Guild and was afraid to share it with her. That Marla Wolfblade had hired the guild to murder Tarkyn Lye was a foregone conclusion. There was no way the princess was going to sully her own delicate little hands with the blood of a slave. Given his rank in the Assassins’ Guild, the chances that Galon knew the identity of the assassin were high. He might also know who commissioned the job. He certainly had the resources to find out.
And as proof of his loyalty to her, Alija had every intention of
making
him find out.
making
him find out.
“Alija,” he said, as she entered the hall, smiling at her warmly. “You’re looking particularly lovely this afternoon.”
He didn’t seem uncertain, or the slightest bit nervous. Perhaps he didn’t know anything about Tarkyn’s murder, after all. There was no need to let him know how much his absence had worried her, though. She lifted her chin, eyeing him with disdain. “How thoughtful of you, Galon, to squeeze me into your busy social calendar.”
“Don’t be like that,” he said, crossing the room to her. He took her hands in his and kissed her—significantly, on each cheek rather than the mouth. She didn’t have time to wonder what that meant. While he held her hands she quickly scanned his thoughts. As usual, there was nothing untoward she could detect, but it was never easy to tell with Galon. He was one of those rare assassins who had mastered the mental discipline required to construct a mind shield. Although she couldn’t actually feel it, she knew it was there because there was information in his mind she had never been able to find, things he should have known about the Assassins’ Guild that simply weren’t there. The only thing she did know for certain was that even the best assassin couldn’t just hide his most recent thoughts away. It took hours, sometimes days of concentrated meditation to consciously create a mind shield, and assassins usually left the city to do it. The guild had some hidden retreat not far out of Naribra, Alija knew, which was where most of the advanced training for assassins took place. Galon hadn’t had time to get to Naribra and back since she’d seen him last.
“Where have you been?” she demanded, still holding his hands. If she couldn’t read his every thought, she could certainly tell when he was lying.
Galon smiled. “Plotting your demise with your nemesis.”
Alija snatched her hands away, taking a step back from him. He wasn’t lying.
“You’ve been plotting with Marla Wolfblade?”
“She really does have a set against you, doesn’t she?” Galon seemed to find the idea quite amusing.
“I hope you’re joking.”
“You know I’m not.”
“Then you’d better explain yourself, Galon Miar.”
“Marla thinks she’s found a way to bring you down. Using me.”
His candour didn’t surprise her. Galon knew Alija could tell if he was lying, so there was no point in trying to deceive her. His willingness to play along with Marla’s schemes disturbed her a little, though.
“You mean her absurd plot to expose my sons as slave’s bastards? I’d not lose too much sleep over that, if I were you. She’s bluffing.”
“No, I believe her latest plan involves convincing you to send an assassin to the front to arrange for both Damin Wolfblade and Narvell Hawksword to be killed in a battle.”
She smiled. “Don’t think I haven’t fantasised about such a thing. But that’s almost as ridiculous as her plan to expose my sons. And hardly reason to involve you. You’re too well known to send on such a mission. She must know I would never be so blatant. Or so easily manipulated.”
“I think she’s a little desperate.”
Alija doubted that. The woman who had waltzed in here clutching Tarkyn’s bloodied slave collar was anything but desperate. More likely she was lost without Elezaar’s guidance as these increasingly absurd plots to destroy her seemed to indicate.
“Marla’s getting anxious,” he explained, confirming at least one of her suspicions. “The army we’ve been able to raise is woefully outnumbered by the Fardohnyans and—thanks to you—it’s under the command of an incompetent fool. What really has her frightened is the possibility that Hablet will actually win, and if he does, there’s no place in this world for the Wolfblades.”
“A thought which is almost enough to make me like Hablet.”
“That’s what Marla fears most. If Hablet wins this war, he won’t stay in Greenharbour long. After he’s killed every member of Marla’s family he can find, he’ll appoint a governor to rule the country, head back to Talabar and simply bleed Hythria dry. And he’ll need someone who knows Hythria well to do the bloodletting.”
Alija stared at him in shock. “And she thinks I would collaborate with a Fardohnyan in this?”
“She thinks you’d do anything to see your son on the throne.”
“If Hablet wins,” Alija pointed out, “there won’t actually be a throne.”
“Not for a while,” Galon agreed. “But we’ll recover from the plague eventually, and from an invasion. At some point in the future, there’ll be a High Prince of Hythria again.”
“But if her line is obliterated by Hablet, it won’t be a Wolfblade,” Alija concluded. She studied him curiously. “I find it remarkable that she confided all this in you.”
“I have an honest face.”
Alija wasn’t amused by his flippancy. “Don’t waste my time, Galon. What did you have to do to gain this remarkable intelligence from Princess Marla? Sleep with her?”
“No,” he assured her. Then he added with a grin, “Although not for lack of trying on my part.”
“You find her attractive?”
“You know I do.”
She walked around the desk to put some distance between them. It wouldn’t do to let him know how much his admiration for Marla’s great beauty irritated her. “So … what … she invited you to tea and just blurted out all her plans to you?”
“She thinks she can trust me.”
“Really? Now why would that be?”
“She had someone read my mind.”
Alija’s head jerked up. “Who?”
The assassin shrugged. “You probably don’t know him. He’s a thief. A man named Wrayan Lightfinger.”
Alija gripped the edge of the table in shock. “You’ve actually spoken to Wrayan?”
“You
do
know him? Fancy that. Cocky sort of chap, isn’t he? Calls himself the greatest thief in all of Hythria.”
do
know him? Fancy that. Cocky sort of chap, isn’t he? Calls himself the greatest thief in all of Hythria.”
“Wrayan actually read your mind?” she gasped. “And you let him?”
He shrugged, apparently unconcerned. “The mind shield assassins learn to create was designed to stop the Harshini, Alija. You don’t seriously think some distant descendant of their race would be able to crack what a full Harshini couldn’t, do you? You have nothing to fear. Trust me, Lightfinger took nothing from my mind I didn’t willingly let him have.”
This was too much to take in, all at once. She sank down in her chair. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s quite simple. Marla Wolfblade made contact with me because she knows about our relationship. She’s trying to subvert me to her cause. She’s out to destroy you and she’s prepared to use anything or any
body
to do it.”
body
to do it.”
“Why didn’t you just tell her to go to hell?”
“That wouldn’t have helped you much. This way, I’ll know her plans and I can keep you apprised of them.”
“Take my hand,” she commanded.
Galon did as she asked, reaching across the desk, unconcerned that she might doubt him or that she had the means to tell if he was being untruthful.
“Have you slept with Marla?”
“No.”
It was the truth, Alija discovered with relief. “Did you really allow Wrayan Lightfinger to read your mind?”
Galon didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”
Also the truth. “Did he break through your shield?”
“No, he didn’t break it.”
Again, Galon spoke truthfully. Relieved beyond measure, she let his hand drop.
He sank down into the chair opposite the desk. “Does this mean you believe me? That you trust me?”
“I believe you, Galon. I’m not at all sure I trust you. What exactly are you supposed to do, to lure me into this trap of Marla Wolfblade’s?”
“I’m supposed to subtly let it slip I can put you in touch with someone who can get a message through to Hablet, telling him you’re willing to do a deal about the administration of Hythria after he’s won the battle, and that to prove your good intentions, you’ll arrange to have the Wolfblade line destroyed so there is no focus for opposition against his rule.”
“How?”
He smiled. “Thieves and assassins know no borders, you know.”
Alija shook her head. Such a plan seemed pointless and unworkable. “What makes her think Hablet would have any interest in dealing with me? I’m High Arrion of the Sorcerers’ Collective. He despises the Collective just on principle.”
Galon leaned back in his chair. “Princess Marla was of the opinion that if you let it be known it was
you
who manipulated Lernen Wolfblade into taking command of Hythria’s army, it will more than adequately prove your change of allegiance to King Hablet.”
you
who manipulated Lernen Wolfblade into taking command of Hythria’s army, it will more than adequately prove your change of allegiance to King Hablet.”
Alija couldn’t help but smile. “I imagine she would see things that way. And when I make contact, Marla exposes me as a Fardohnyan traitor, is that the plan?”
“I believe so.”
She shook her head in wonder. “Her gall appears to be boundless.”
“I don’t know,” Galon remarked, sounding suspiciously admiring of Marla’s schemes. “It’s a pretty slick arrangement, actually. Or it would be, if I wasn’t playing for the wrong side.”
“Don’t you mean the
right
side?”
right
side?”
“Depends on where you’re standing, I suppose.”
Alija frowned, but knew he was baiting her, so she didn’t react. “This contact of Marla’s … is he really a Fardohnyan agent? He would almost have to be if she seriously thought I would fall for this absurdity.”
“I couldn’t say. Despite what it looks like, Alija, I wasn’t actually given every little detail of the plan. All I know is I was supposed to come here, pretend everything is fine, and then convince you that your best hope of ever seeing your son ruling Hythria someday is to do a deal with Hablet
before
he’s won the war, rather than after, when he’s in no mood to deal with anybody.”
before
he’s won the war, rather than after, when he’s in no mood to deal with anybody.”
Alija rose to her feet and paced the floor thoughtfully, wondering if there was a way she could turn this around; if there was a way to trap Marla in her own schemes.
“Given her connections,” she mused, “it’s not hard to imagine Marla has extensive contacts in Fardohnya, either through the Tirstone brothers, or Luciena Taranger. I suppose it wouldn’t be that hard for her to arrange to get a message to Hablet. But would she really risk exposing herself like that, just to get at me?”
“You’d know that better than I, Alija.”
The High Arrion nodded grimly. “Then the answer is probably yes. Tell her I’ll meet him.”
Galon looked at her in genuine surprise.
“What?”
“What?”
“Tell Marla I’ll meet with this Fardohnyan agent she’s lined up. Tell her you succeeded in convincing me my only hope of seeing an end to her line is to ally myself with Hablet. How does the old saying go? The enemy of my enemy is my friend?”
“You can’t be serious!” he exclaimed. “She’s trying to trap you into proving you’re in league with Hablet. That’s high treason.”
“I know that.”
“So you’re going to foil her plans by meeting with a Fardohnyan agent? There’s a
grand
idea.”
grand
idea.”
She smiled confidently. “I’m going to turn the tables on her, Galon.”
“How?”
Alija was surprised someone as astute as Galon Miar couldn’t see what she was driving at. “In order for this plan to proceed, Marla, or one of her stepchildren—and I’m assuming it will be Rodja Tirstone—will have to make contact with this Fardohnyan agent first. And he will have to be genuine. She knows I can read his mind. Any hint he’s not what he claims, and her scheme will be exposed. All
I
need to do is prove Marla is conducting business with our enemies and the entire Wolfblade family will fall.”
I
need to do is prove Marla is conducting business with our enemies and the entire Wolfblade family will fall.”
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