Silverkin, page 10
“They are afraid of losing you. Send Thealos.”
She shook her head. “No. I won’t risk it.”
“You’re being stubborn. You realize that?” The look she gave him was full of ire. Sadly, he was used to it. The worst she could do was dismiss him—wouldn’t that be a blessing! “Then who will you send, Laisha? Whomever you choose will be esteemed as your potential consort. You have cousins in the families of Silverbanin, Silverlock, and Silvermore. Several others if you want to scrape the barrel—like the Silverthistles and the Silverwrens. Why not Quickfellow though? He’s been there. He knows the way.”
“He’ll cooperate with my decision, or I’ll turn the Council of Elders loose on him. Nordain would be very happy to be in my favor again.”
“So who will you send then? Silverbanin’s son is loyal to Keasorn. He’s in the army and doing quite well from what I’ve heard. His younger brother is a Warder, I think.”
“No,” Laisha said. “I’ll send someone old. Someone they won’t mistake as a marriage prospect. Like Fesit Silverlock himself.” She started pacing again. “I want the Silverkin brought to Avisahn, unused. Perhaps the Foretelling was warning us not to use it at all.”
“I don’t think that’s what it meant. Fesit Silverlock is an old man. He would hardly be up to a journey like that.”
She shook her head. “We need to draw Ballinaire out of Landmoor so that we can send in several quaeres of Crimson Wolfsmen to seize it. He’ll be well protected.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Laisha.”
“I don’t want to send anyone else! If Thealos takes it and uses it and saves the Shae, just think what it will do! I will not give up Avisahn so easily to an upstart.”
“He would be your consort, not the king. That is the way we’ve both planned it. You can still have your kingdom, Laisha. He will be furious when he finds out you are sending Silverlock instead of him.”
Laisha gave him a level look. “If he is truly only interested in the safety of the Shae, he will accept it. He must accept it or risk facing a charge of treason again.”
Abtalion rose. “It’s your decision.”
She was confident now. So confident. How could he blame her when he had instilled it in her? But her stubbornness had deep roots.
“We’ll meet in the gardens in the morning to discuss our tactics for the Sunedrion.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” He stopped at the table and touched a stud on the leather-bound book. Would the Foretelling happen regardless of what she chose? Was she testing that?
The thought made his bones cold.
Did the Mages of Safehome already know what was going to happen?
Chapter X
Thealos sat on a cushioned window seat in his room, deep in thought. Dawn had just painted the sky a blushing pink and highlighted dense thunderheads with orange caps. Rain trickled down the glass of the windowpanes despite the cheery colors, but it looked like the quick summer storm was already moving into the northern plains. He shifted his weight and folded his arms, watching the little squiggles of water streak down.
He thought about Jaerod.
Since returning from the Princess’ chambers, sleep had eluded him. Thoughts whirled and split and seethed in his mind. He was tired, cramped, and eager to be free again. Silverborne Palace was a gilded prison, but it was still a prison. Hunger to see his family gnawed at him every day. But the revelations from the archives in Avisahn were even more disturbing.
How much had Jaerod known?
Thealos was not ready to condemn the Sleepwalker as a liar, but there were issues needing to be reconciled. Abtalion had said that the renegades who called themselves the Mages of Safehome worshipped Shenalle, but that went against something that Jaerod had told him much earlier. Jaerod had said that he worshipped none of the Three. When Thealos mentioned the Sorian, Abtalion said nothing about them yet Jaerod insisted over and over that the Sorian were the reason Safehome existed. They were a power in the world to be challenged and brought down. Did Abtalion or Laisha know anything about them? He wished he had asked.
What about the Foretelling? Thealos had never believed his family name worthy enough to risk pursuing Laisha as a…a marriage prospect? Yet Abtalion intimated that it was already being considered by some. That thought alone sent tremors of fear and shock through him.
Marry Laisha Silverborne?
What man in all of Avisahn wouldn’t want to do that? Yet faced with the prospect etched into a five century-old tome, Thealos’ stomach lurched. He was the son of a barter. Granted, he knew a little court etiquette, but living under public scrutiny for the rest of his life was not a notion he found appealing. Would she even want him? Or would she choose him, after endless coaxing, because she was pressured into it? What sort of marriage would that make? He bit his lip as the anxiety bubbled up inside him again. The thought of marrying someone who did not love him made him feel…
Yet a marriage like theirs would change everything. It would change the entire history of the Shae. The royal houses would be mended at last, thousands of years after being broken.
Broken?
A thought stung him. Something Jaerod had said—to break is to be broken.
Was it time to heal what the Sleepwalkers—the Ravinir—had broken? There was some logic to that.
All along the way to the Shoreland, Jaerod had put Thealos in the position of leader. Thealos had been the focus for the mission to Landmoor. Was all of that a subtle preparation for what was to come?
Movement reflected on the window glass alerted him that someone was in the room.
Thealos spun around in time to see a little girl slowly shutting a wall-panel, leaving a little latch sticking out to keep it from shutting all the way.
“Lucyanna?” Thealos scooted off the window seat and stared at her.
The girl put her finger to her mouth and gave him an angry look to keep quiet.
She peered around the chamber and then walked towards him. Her footfalls made no sound at all—not even her dress swished. He waited for her to come closer.
When she stood near, looking up at his face, she opened her hand, revealing a small polished stone with a strange rune marking it. It had a faint smell, a hint of blossom, marking it as Silvan magic.
“This is the Whisper Stone,” she said, glancing at the main door. “No one will be able to hear us.”
“What are you doing here? How did you get in here?” He craned his neck and looked at the wall section.
“It’s full of tunnels,” she said. “I know most of them. My sister is down in the garden with her advisor right now. I…I wanted to speak with you. To warn you.”
Thealos sat back down on the edge of the window seat, bringing his eyes more on the same level with hers. She had different eyes…mud-colored with a little tinge of green.
“You’re a brown-eyed Shae, aren’t you?” he asked before he could stop himself.
Her expression clouded with anger. “My eyes are green.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve…I’ve never seen that color before. They’re…pretty.”
“They’re ugly and I hate them,” she said. The stormy look was softened a little as she started to blush furiously.
“I’m sorry I said…you’re very pretty, you know. You remind me of my little sister.”
The compliment broke a corner off the edge of her anger.
“No, I’m sorry. It’s just that everyone teases me about my eyes.” She hooked some blonde hair behind her ear and looked down at the floor. “I’m…I wanted to warn you.” Her voice was very quiet. She bit her lip and fidgeted. “My sister is really nice, and I don’t want you to be angry with her when you find out. Don’t be angry with her, Thealos, please.”
“Angry for what? What has she done?” His stomach clenched.
Lucyanna looked flustered, as if she wanted to tell him but wrestled with whether she should.
Thealos leaned towards her. “I won’t tell anyone that you told me.”
A look of relief splashed over her young face and she sighed, grinning faintly. “She’s going to send someone else after the Silverkin. She’s being stubborn, even Abtalion says so, but…”
Thealos closed his eyes. “What?”
“Don’t be angry, please! The chancellor is going to try and talk her out of it. She’s just upset, Thealos. She’s afraid they’ll make her marry…and she’s afraid that she won’t be able to choose…”
“No, it’s all right,” Thealos said, reaching out and gripping her shoulder. “It’s all right, Lucyanna. I understand. I’m not…I’m not angry.” He wanted to throw up. “It’s all right. You did the right thing telling me.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “You’re a brave girl. Did she say who she was going to send?”
Lucyanne nodded and chewed on the corner of her lip. “Silverlock. The old one.”
“The old one? Oh, but that makes sense too. I see what she’s doing.” He shook his head. “She doesn’t know me well enough yet. She doesn’t trust me yet. She will though.” He squeezed her shoulder and it brought a little smile to her stricken face. “She will.”
“I do,” she whispered.
“Because you felt the Silverkin calling you too, Lucyanna. I remember.” He twisted a few strands of her golden hair. “You are so like my sister,” he said softly. “I miss her very much.”
Lucyanna gave him a sheepish smile. “I never knew my brother. He died.”
An awkward silence fell between them.
“Let me be your brother then. If I can.” He smiled. “Can you come back and see me tomorrow morning too?”
She nodded enthusiastically.
“What’s that stone again? Show me.”
Lucyanna held open her palm. It was a little green stone with a Silvan symbol etched into it. “That’s why I came. Here, you can have the others too.” She shoved a small pouch into his hands. “There are five Stones. Each one disguises something. I think…I think they were taken from a Sleepwalker. You are the one who needs to go to Landmoor, Thealos. I know it. If she won’t let you go, you need a way to get out of the palace.”
Her little hand squeezed the pouch into his. “I’ll help you.”
* * *
Thealos watched the assembly while leaning against one of the marble pillars encircling the huge chamber. He had been to sessions of the Sunedrion before as they were forums that the public could attend. Standing on a balcony that overlooked the broad chamber, he looked up at the light streaming in from the upper windows of the dome and the remnants of the storm clouds that had gathered during the night. The marble pillar and the carpeted floor thrummed with the bustling motion of the hundreds of Shae gathered below, filling the seats. A thousand smells, a cacophony of coughs, throats clearing, and then silence as Laisha Silverborne stepped into view down on the floor below, wearing a regal gown made of a dark violet satin.
“Members of the Sunedrion—good afternoon,” she said. “The Sunedrion is full today, as it should be on such a day as this when we have heard the drums of war beating from Dos-Aralon. Their king sent his chancellor to speak with us this very morning. He awaits our reply.”
She bowed her head, drew a breath, and looked up in the balcony where she seemed to see Thealos. “We received a message recently from Thealos Quickfellow, a young man from the faith of Vannier that many of you are aware of.” There was a brief murmur in the room. “He has returned from the Shoreland with news that expands on that of the human chancellor. The Bandit Rebellion has already taken the city of Landmoor. The king of Dos-Aralon does not know this. But that fortress is on land that rightfully belongs to the Shae, for it holds the ruins of one of the Watchposts of our fathers. Ballinaire himself commands the forces at Landmoor, and we’ve come to understand that he is using Forbidden magic to bolster his insurrection.”
Giving Thealos another quick glance, she continued. “Thealos Quickfellow also brought us news concerning an ancient artifact of Silvan magic buried in the crevices beneath Landmoor. It is called the Silverkin Crystal. It is magic that can defeat Ballinaire—if wielded by the proper hand.” She faced the Sunedrion, raking them all with her eyes. “As the acting ruler of Avisahn, I seek the approval of the Sunedrion in sending forces to Landmoor to reclaim this artifact and that fortress for the Shae.”
A stunned hush smothered the murmuring council. A trickle of sweat glided down Thealos’ ribs. He mustered his courage, squeezing his hands behind his back and continued to stare at Laisha. She would name another to go to Landmoor instead of him. He tried to keep the disappointment from his face.
“It is my hope to seize the city in the name of the Shae and restore the abandoned Watchpost of Jenterhome to our rule.” Her eyes traveled over their many faces. “It is my wish that you support my decision and lend your confidence to this endeavor. Thank you.”
Laisha calmly returned to the head chair and sat down. Abtalion, sitting nearby, looked thoughtful. It was quiet for the span of three shallow breaths before the entire council began talking at once.
“Your Highness, the guild leaders of Axewood lend their total support...”
“Has your Highness lost her wits...?”
“Remember the Purge Wars? Remember the cost in lives...?”
“This is absurd! We’ll be fighting Dos-Aralon and the Bandits both!”
“Come to order!” Abtalion thundered, coming to his feet. His voice seemed like it came out of the clouds, not from the tall, subdued chancellor. That alone seemed to cow everyone in the chamber. He spoke softly as he continued. “This is the Sunedrion, not a schoolyard. We will not call for a vote until we have answered all of your questions. I understand that this is sudden, but a decision must be reached tonight. We must have an answer to give to the King of Dos-Aralon. I echo the Princess’ words, and encourage us to be unified in this. Now according to Deep Law, the senior Council member will be allowed to speak first. Noblerin Nortinyoung?”
A stooped Shae labored to his feet, gripping a cane made of beech wood, and spoke from where he stood. His face gazed up at the light streaming in high over their heads to the top of the dome. “I have three comments to make,” he said in a quivering voice. His hair was short, white as snow. “Surely your Highness is aware that only a unanimous vote of the Sunedrion can start a war. Surely your Highness remembers that unanimous consent has not been given since the Purge Wars, nigh on seven Silvan Years ago. The graves of our dead are still fresh, and I mourn the loss of five of my great-grandchildren.”
Thealos’ vantage point was perfect. He could see both the aged council member and Laisha.
Laisha sat straight. “There were many graves dug during that war, Noblerin Nortinyoung, and many new trees growing today. I spent part of the morning in the shade of the oak marking the resting place of my brother. I feel the stab of loss as deeply as anyone.”
“Let me finish, your Highness,” the aged Shae continued, still looking up at the top of the dome. “My second point is that Deep Law requires the deliberation of war for at least eight moon cycles before coming to a decision. That is eight moon cycles, not eight hours.”
“We commend your knowledge of the Deep Law,” Abtalion said, brushing his hands, “but it is also written that the King—or Queen—may muster soldiers if we are threatened. Surely, Noblerin Nortinyoung, you would not expect us to wait eight moons if Dos-Aralon started crossing the bridge with soldiers this evening?”
Thealos grinned and hid it behind his hand. Abtalion and Laisha did not look at each other, but he knew that they had already rehearsed to debate the controversy.
“My third point is that two or three witnesses must be called to reinforce any statement. Up to this point, I have not heard from any who brought this information. That is all I have to say.” He sat down.
Chancellor Abtalion joined his hands near his mouth. He looked at Laisha, gave her a curt nod, and leaned forward. “We have the danger of the Bandit Rebellion from the chancellor of Dos-Aralon. We have the information by Thealos Quickfellow. The records of Avisahn confirm the story. The Law has been met.”
“That barely satisfies me,” a council member objected. “When are a Human, a Kilshae, and a book considered competent witnesses?”
Heat surged up Thealos’ neck into his cheeks.
“You are partly correct,” Laisha said. “The witness of a human is rarely sufficient to lift our arm in war. But Thealos Quickfellow is not attainted, and therefore neither is his testimony.”
“Let him speak then!” several shouted.
Laisha held up her hand. “It is my desire that we act quickly. The Forbidden magic that is being used down in the Shoreland is the same magic that destroyed the Empire of Sol-don-Orai. Even you, Noblerin Nortinyoung, would remember that. I know the threats and I know the risks. I am asking that…”
Bells began chiming through the city of Avisahn. The brash echoes jarred the stillness of the midafternoon sky. The bells in the city never rang save under the direst circumstances.
Thealos watched in shock as Crimson Wolfsmen and Warders stormed into the hall of the Sunedrion and formed a ring around Laisha. She looked bewildered as they escorted her through the nearest doorway. He saw her mouth moving but could not hear her over the cries of panic erupting in the room.
Not even Abtalion could calm them.
“Come!” A hand clamped over Thealos’ arm. It was one of his Wolfsman custodians. He seemed to be hearing something in the air that Thealos couldn’t. A rush of sweet-smelling magic filled the air.
“Quickly!”
Several other Wolfsmen appeared, forming a protecting ring around Thealos and hurrying him forward to run.
“What is happening?”
“Just run, lad!”
* * *
The palace brimmed with soldiers from the Silvan army. Warders stood at each entrance, nodding to every person who tried to pass them.
