“I am here to claim my birthright,” Galloran said. “For years you and Dolan have managed Trensicourt in my absence. You have my gratitude for keeping Trensicourt independent. Now, for the good of the kingdom, I hope you will help make this a smooth transition.”
Copernum folded his hands. “Do you believe that your ascension to the throne will benefit Trensicourt?”
“Who else could properly fill the role?” Galloran asked. “No other sons of Dromidus remain. I am the undisputed heir.”
“If you are the rightful king, I don’t see why you need my permission.”
“Don’t play the fool with me, Copernum,” Galloran said. “We never knew each other well. As I recall, the former Marquess of Jansington was a distant cousin of yours. Lacking heirs, he bequeathed his title to you over his nephews. You and I only met briefly during the latter years of my father’s reign. Yet I have observed you from afar. You combine a scholarly background with a knack for deft political maneuvering. You and Dolan have nearly rid the nobility of all who openly speak against Felrook. Nobles who hope to appease the emperor will be reluctant to install me as their new monarch.”
“Would they be right to worry?” Copernum asked.
“I don’t intend to court the emperor,” Galloran said flatly. “I will not pay him tribute. I will not let him dictate policy. I will not ignore his aggressive expansion. I will not enter into lopsided compromises. Those kingdoms who have tried to appease Felrook have all fallen. A gentle approach toward the rising empire will inevitably bring an end to our sovereignty.”
“Have you considered that perhaps you are a decade too late?” Copernum asked. “Have you recognized that the only remaining option besides aligning ourselves with the emperor is obliteration?”
“I will never submit to Maldor,” Galloran stated.
“Interesting. I have been led to believe that you no longer require that blindfold.”
“I accepted eyes from Maldor,” Galloran admitted assertively. “He offered them years ago. I finally claimed them. But I made no pledge of fealty.”
“And yet some of his top spies now share your eyes,” Copernum chuckled. “How do you intend to resist an enemy who can watch your every move?”
“With a blindfold in place.”
“Then why accept the eyes?”
“For those moments when I need to see in order to kill.”
“Very dramatic,” Copernum approved glibly. “Tell me, why are you wearing the blindfold now?”
“Partly as a courtesy,” Galloran said. “I was unsure whether you would want the emperor to know we had conversed.”
“You told me not to play the fool,” Copernum said. “Let me be direct. The emperor is not my foe. I have kept Trensicourt intact by maintaining positive relations with Felrook. I have nothing to hide from Maldor. If the emperor cares to know, I would happily divulge all we discuss this night. I would not do so out of disloyalty toward Trensicourt. I would do it to protect Trensicourt. I would do it so that men who care about Trensicourt might be permitted to run this kingdom rather than callous imperial governors.”
Galloran began untying his blindfold. “By your description, are you not becoming an imperial governor yourself?” Galloran removed the blindfold, revealing one brown eye, the other blue. His gaze was hard.
Rachel did not appreciate the reminder that agents of Maldor were observing all that Galloran saw. She loved and trusted Galloran, but the thought made those mismatched eyes seem sinister. At least they weren’t focused on her.
Copernum looked mildly disconcerted by the stare. “Dolan does not take orders from Felrook. Neither do I. We make certain allowances to preserve the peace.”
“I know plenty about the allowances you have made,” Galloran said. “More than enough to label you a traitor and have you hanged.”
Copernum bristled, but he held his tongue for a moment. He took a bite from a fat wedge of cheese and chewed thoughtfully before responding. “I wondered how long it would take before this discussion turned unpleasant. You have not yet been crowned, sir. In fact, you have left your alleged right to the throne unclaimed for years. Currently, Dolan is custodian of this kingdom and holds the highest legal authority.”
“Are you insinuating I will have to take Trensicourt by force?” Galloran asked.
Copernum shrugged casually. “Do I think you could? Possibly. Martyrs tend to win the best reputations. As far as this kingdom is concerned, you have been dead for more than ten years. Your repute has grown accordingly. You have been aggrandized into a folk hero, more legend than man. Your agents have whispered rumors foretelling your return for months, and the rumors have taken hold. The city is waiting for you, watching for you, many not believing, but most hoping. I expect you could rally many to your cause.”
“Not enough?” Galloran asked.
“That depends. As of yet I have refrained from planting rumors of my own. Rumors that Galloran sold his eyes and his loyalty to the emperor to buy his freedom. Rumors that Galloran has been living in imperial luxury while the people of Trensicourt have toiled in doubt and fear. Rumors that Galloran lost his mind at Felrook, leaving him driven to fight Maldor at all cost, even if it means destroying the kingdom in a hopeless war. These and many other stories could be circulated. In Trensicourt nothing moves faster than rumors.”
“Why have you refrained?”
“I was not yet sure whether you were my adversary. We do not have to be enemies. It is likely that you could lead Trensicourt far more effectively than Dolan. Of course, if we become enemies, I will have to remind you that many of the best fighting men of Trensicourt are unswervingly loyal to their liege lords, the nobles. And the nobles are loyal to Dolan. And to me. Naturally, if we needed imperial aid to maintain control of Trensicourt, Felrook would gladly intervene.”
Galloran finally began to lose his temper. “If you bring imperial troops into Trensicourt, they will never leave.”
“We have never allowed an imperial host into the city for that precise reason,” Copernum hurriedly agreed. “We would only consider such rash action if our government were threatened.” He grinned like a shark.
Galloran gave a nod. One nostril twitched. His whole body looked tense, ready to snap. He almost managed to keep his tone conversational. “You have spoken plainly. Let me be equally clear. I have already been in communication with many of the lesser lords, as well as some key members of the upper aristocracy. You might be surprised how many of the blue bloods remain loyal to the crown. If you force my hand, tomorrow I will offer an ultimatum to the nobles of Trensicourt—side with their king or perish as traitors. I have no intention of waging open war to reclaim my kingdom. My foes will be eliminated, and we will see where their leaderless minions stand afterward. There are insufficient imperial troops to reach this region in time to hinder me. If you were foolish enough to try to summon them, even your most stalwart supporters would abandon you. A revolution won’t take months or weeks. It will require three days.”
“Well spoken,” Copernum conceded. “A skeptic might wonder how you propose to collectively assassinate the most powerful men in the kingdom.”
Galloran glanced at Rachel. With a jolt of panic she realized he was asking for a demonstration. Something to intimidate Copernum. The tension in the room was palpable, both sides trying to seem calm and in control, each side wondering how much the other was bluffing. The negotiation could go either way. A lot was riding on how she performed.
Rachel told herself that she had practiced these techniques for months. But what if she pushed too hard and the suggestion failed? What if she didn’t push hard enough? Copernum was a cunning man. What if he had studied how to resist Edomic suggestions? What if he was immune?
The moment was passing. Doing nothing would be the same as failure. Mustering her will and relying on her training, Rachel spoke a pointed Edomic suggestion. Copernum flopped to the floor, striking his cheek on the edge of the table on his way down. Relieved that the direct
ive had worked so well, she spoke again, and his body went rigid. Io crouched beside him and ran a forefinger across his throat.
Rachel briefly met eyes with Galloran. His glowing approval reflected her quiet elation, reinforcing the feeling of triumph. Then she thought about displacers watching her little display through those same eyes, and the emotion was tainted.
Copernum remained immobile for longer than normal. A full ten seconds elapsed before he arose, looking pale and shaken, a bruise starting to form on his cheek. “A compelling exhibition,” he sniffed, letting his worried gaze dance between Rachel and Galloran. He reclaimed his seat, brushed off his sleeves, and tried to regain his composure.
“I invite skeptics to doubt my capabilities,” Galloran said, his voice iron. “But any skeptic would have a poor knowledge of Trensicourt if he hoped to stand against the tide of humanity that will rise up to welcome their king home.”
“What do you expect from me?” Copernum demanded.
“I don’t want my kingdom in an uproar,” Galloran said. “I want my kingdom united. I am willing to concede that, however misguided your dealings with Felrook have been, you may have had the best interest of Trensicourt at heart. My kingdom remains independent, at least in name, and for this I am grateful. If you, Dolan, and the nobles you influence welcome the return of your king and support a quick, smooth transition, you will retain your titles and holdings. You will enjoy a full pardon for any past misdeeds, and need only look to your future behavior with any fear of reprisal.”
“That is your offer?” Copernum asked.
“In essence.”
“Am I to believe that I will remain chancellor?”
“Another presently has claim to that office,” Galloran said.
“Lord Jason abandoned his post,” Copernum reminded gently.
“Lord Jason never resigned,” Galloran corrected. “He has been on errands with me. You will continue to serve as chancellor until Lord Jason returns. Once Jason rejoins us, you would be welcome to challenge him for the position. Your other titles and holdings will remain as they stand.”
Copernum leaned forward. “You will confirm our titles and holdings in writing? You will document an unconditional immunity regarding any perceived injustices of the past?”
“Indeed. In return I will require full cooperation. Not just assistance arranging my prompt coronation, but also support of my strategies going forward.”
Copernum narrowed his eyes and nodded slightly. “As a future collaborator, might I be entitled to a preview of your intentions?”
“It is no mystery,” Galloran said. “I will stand firmly against Felrook. More firmly than Trensicourt has ever stood.”
Copernum glanced around the room. “Are those present meant to imply you have support from the Amar Kabal, the drinlings, and the children of Certius?”
“Trensicourt will not stand alone against Felrook,” Galloran replied. “Time is precious, Copernum. You have tonight to confer with your cohorts. I expect an unambiguous response on the morrow. Anything less will be deemed an act of treason against your rightful king, punishable as such.”
Copernum bowed his head in thought. “The emperor will be sorely displeased.”
Galloran straightened in his chair. “I vow to do much more than displease him.”
Copernum looked up. “I applaud your nerve. If I seem less than ecstatic, please understand, my reluctance does not grow out of a love for the emperor. A tenuous peace has been cultivated with Felrook for years, which has enabled us to prosper while other kingdoms crumble.”
“What you call peace the emperor calls postponement,” Galloran said. “Aside from the Seven Vales, we are the best-defended sovereignty in all of Lyrian. He would rather wait to crush Trensicourt until he can focus all his clout on the task. That day is not far off. It will come after Kadara falls. We must take action before we become the last kingdom of men to topple.”
Copernum folded his hands on the table. “I comprehend your terms. How shall I deliver the reply?”
“I will station representatives at the covered bridge over Cobble Creek. Your response should arrive by noon, carried by no more than two riders. Thereafter, we will confer accordingly.”
Copernum rose. “I expect all will be as you hope, my prince. You seem as capable and committed as your reputation warrants, undiminished by your past hardships. By way of explanation for my adversarial conduct tonight, there was concern that Felrook could have left you unbalanced. Rightful heir or not, Dolan and I had no intention of handing Trensicourt over to a madman or to a broken exile who had clearly been corrupted by the emperor. These times demand a watchful eye and a steady hand. You have more than allayed my concerns. I look forward to serving with you once we take care of the formalities.” He bowed deeply, removing his hat and pausing for a beat with his head down.
Galloran stood, as did the others around the table. “If all proceeds as you describe, I look forward to our partnership leading Trensicourt into a brighter future.”
Copernum nodded at the others in turn, his gaze lingering longest on Rachel. She found a wary respect in his eyes.
Kerick led Copernum’s horse from the stall. The chancellor put on his cloak, adjusted his hood, and mounted up. He bid them farewell and departed into the rainy night.
Rachel finally relaxed as Copernum passed out of sight. If the choice were hers, she hoped never to see him again.
Galloran replaced his blindfold. The incessant patter of rainfall had receded into white noise during the meeting, but it gained renewed prominence in the silence. An unseen horse in one of the stalls stamped and whinnied.
“All clear,” called a voice from above, startling Rachel. She looked up and saw Nedwin dangling from a rafter, the length of his body reducing the drop to less than eight feet. He let go and landed on the floor in a crouch.
“I didn’t know you were up there,” Rachel said.
“That was the idea,” Nedwin replied, crossing to Galloran. “My task was to monitor our guests. I took up my position just after the meeting began.”
“We never agreed to your entering the stable,” Galloran said.
“I had to hear,” Nedwin said. “I stayed quiet. You didn’t want Copernum to see me. He never saw me.”
“I didn’t want you to see him,” Galloran responded. “That could not have been easy.”
Nedwin forced a smile. There was no warmth in it. Rachel could understand. Copernum had held Nedwin prisoner and tortured him for years. Copernum had also harmed Nedwin’s family, stealing away his elder brother’s title by defeating him in a battle of wits. “I’ll tell you what was easy—the negotiation. Much too easy.”
“Happy to install me as king so he can betray me later?” Galloran asked.
“Sounded that way,” Kerick said. “After issuing all those pardons, you’ll be surrounded by enemies. The majority of your ruling class will be spying for Felrook.”
“Agreed,” Galloran said. “Fortunately, I don’t intend to wage this war with secrets. Nor do I intend to remain in Trensicourt for long. I need Trensicourt for manpower. My faith is in the prophecy. Once I am crowned, all my effort will go into mobilizing for war.”
“To that end you need control of the kingdom,” Nedwin said. “Quickly and without bloodshed.”
“To leave evil men unpunished and in positions of power is a grievous cost,” Galloran said heavily. “The injustice sickens me. Yet I see no alternative. Not given our time frame and our goals.”
“Rotten apples stay spoiled,” Nedwin said. “Copernum and his allies will hang themselves with future crimes.”
“Let’s hope those crimes aren’t the end of us,” Bartley added.
“The viscount has a point,” Galloran said. “We can’t be too careful over the coming weeks. Including tonight. Our location and numbers have been observed by the most dangerous man in the current government. A surprise attack is possible. Stormy or not, we should make haste to our next temporary residence.” r />
Rachel sighed softly. It would be nice to stay here, warm and dry, at least for the night. But she supposed that if staying elsewhere might prevent them from being slaughtered in their sleep, she probably shouldn’t complain.
CHAPTER 5
A PRIVATE MEETING
A cold rain sheeted down relentlessly, pattering against the roof of the old storage shed and making the puddles outside appear to boil. Seated on a wooden cask, Rachel drew her cloak closer about herself to help against the chill. Across the yard three lanterns hanging under the eaves of the stable brightened the rainy night.
Beside her sat Galloran, blindfold in place, his sheathed sword resting across his knees. At her other hand crouched Bartley of Wershon. Yesterday the husky viscount had been full of blustering bravado. Today he was much more subdued, rubbing his lips regularly as he stared soberly outside.
Rachel noticed her fingers trembling. Was it the cold or her nerves? She tightened her hands into fists. Weeks of travel and anticipation had led to this night. Much time and effort could be saved if the meeting went well.
“They’re late,” Bartley whispered.
Rachel had only seen the viscount briefly on the day when Jason had faced Chancellor Copernum in a battle of wits. But she knew that he had helped Jason. And according to Brin and Nicholas, he had quietly proven very useful ever since Jason had departed Trensicourt months ago. At present he had really stuck his neck out, offering his estate as the location of the upcoming meeting.
“Tardiness is probably a good sign,” Galloran said. “If this were an ambush, they would have taken care to be prompt.”
“Instead they elect to insult us?” Bartley asked softly.
“The weather is harsh tonight,” Galloran replied calmly.
Tark suddenly ducked into the storeroom, water streaming from his cloak. “I saw the signal. Three quick flashes, evenly spaced.”
“Then our guests approach as requested,” Galloran replied. “No evidence of foul play.”