“What’s it all about?” Sherilee finally asked.

  “Basically, just that Inger thinks we’re dead, and he wants to keep her thinking that. He’s going to do the same job for her that he did for the King, only his loyalty will be to the kingdom instead of a person. If he can get away with it.”

  “That’s all he says? In all that?”

  “He rambles, but it’s just fears and feelings and stuff. He sounds awful lonely. And if I didn’t know him better, a little afraid.” Kristen spared Sherilee news of the riots and deaths of so many friends.

  “So what do we do?” Sherilee asked. “Go Michael’s way, or Colonel Abaca’s? Do you really want Bragi to be King?”

  “I don’t know. I just don’t know. I don’t even want to think about it.”

  Slugbait came around again late that afternoon. “Lady,

  Mr. Dantice is back.” His eyes were a little buggy, as if he had seen a ghost. “He has somebody with him.”

  “Who?” Aral was always bringing someone around with investment opportunities. He wasn’t trying to take advantage, just trying to help. He felt a little guilty about running out of Kavelin.

  Slugbait smiled and shrugged.

  “Send them in.” She told Sherilee, “Maybe I ought to let him invest something just so he can soothe his conscience.”

  Sherilee shook her head., 1 don’t think so. Don’t forget how thick he was with that Mist. He’s still got the disease. She could be using him. Don’t get pulled into some scheme of hers.”

  Someone tapped on the door. “Hush. He’s here.” Kristen opened up. Her jaw dropped. “Dahl. Dahl. Dahl, we thought you were dead. We thought the Itaskians got you.”

  Haas shifted from foot to foot. “I got away.” He couldn’t seem to go any farther.

  Kristen pushed past Dantice, threw her arms around Haas’s neck. “Dahl. It’s really you.” She rested her head against his chest. “Come on in. Come on in. Please? I’m so glad to see you.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him inside.

  Tear in eye, Sherilee left them. Dantice shrugged, smiled, gently closed the door, and returned to his underworld friends.

  The rain had dispersed the rioters. The reappearance of troops had prevented further outbreaks. Rioting in Kavelin’s secondary cities amounted to little, though, with the exception of Damhorst, they were reluctant to pledge fealty to the new regime. The major problem in the capital became the Quarter. Thousands had been burned out of their homes. Winter wasn’t far away.

  Michael and General Liakopulos were the only old faces at Inger’s first formal briefing, but, to Michael’s surprise, the new faces were neither Nordmen extremists nor the Duke’s freebooters. Inger had made appointments outstanding for their neutrality. It might be calculated, to lull the populace till they could be disarmed, but even so Michael approved.

  “The agenda,” Inger said. “One, the missing treasury funds. Two, the lack of response to our call for pledges of fealty from the army.” She said that with her old mocking smile and sarcastic tone. Her brittle humor had returned. “Three, my cousin the Duke. Michael? The money?”

  “I haven’t had any luck finding it. Prataxis had it moved out while we were guessing about what the King was doing at Maisak. Everyone who knew anything left with the treasury. Where it went I don’t know.”

  “Think trying a little harder and remembering a little better might help?” Inger didn’t believe him and he knew it. She needed that money desperately. Her gestures toward the populace were expensive. Already she was taking loans from the Estates. “Very well. General?”

  “I’ve applied all the persuasion I can, Your Majesty. The men in the outlying posts were selected for dedication to the King’s ideals. They’re stalling till your direction becomes clear. They don’t want to pledge, then be embarrassed. There would be less difficulty were your cousin not so much in evidence. It’s the wait-and-see attitude you find everywhere. You can’t blame people, really.”

  “Maybe not. But meanwhile our neighbors are watching us. The Alteans may be benign, but Volstokin wouldn’t mind paying back the beating they took when they interceded in the civil war. Speaking of which. Everyone predicted civil war if I took over. It’s peaceful out there. What happened?”

  Liakopulos replied, “The estimations were predicated on the assumption that you would take power illegally.”

  “Michael?”

  “There is emotional resistance. Some army units, for instance, might rebel if there was an uprising here. What it is, nobody wants to start it. The rebel fever is out there, but it’s unfocused. I’d say, right now, the main reason for lack of resistance is absence of a charismatic leader. There is no pretender, no rallying point, just an undirected dissatisfaction.”

  “No pretender,” Inger mused. She turned to Gales. “Josiah, that brings us to my cousin.” Her expression soured.

  Gales’s crisis of conscience had been solved for him. He was now Inger’s creature heart and soul. She had accomplished the transition through the timeless expedient of seduction. He was now her agent in her cousin’s camp.

  Gales said, “Your Majesty, any restlessness in Kavelin is nothing to that in the Duke’s camp. He’s very bitter. He’s carrying on like you’ve robbed him of his birthright. It won’t be long before he and the sorcerer Norath hatch something. I expect they’ll turn to me when they do. His Lordship thinks I’m his agent still.”

  Inger nodded. “I imagine you haven’t seen a tenth of Dane’s fury. He had hopes of making Kavelin a base from which he could establish a western empire. I’ve been a severe disappointment. Tell me more about Norath. He worries me.”

  “I can’t, Your Majesty. No one sees him. He stays sequestered. What’s he doing here? What’s his relationship with your cousin? Colonel Trebilcock and I have discussed this repeatedly without reaching any conclusions.”

  “Michael?”

  “I sent queries to Al Rhemish. There’s been no response. I doubt we’ll learn much anyway. Norath was Megelin’s chief adviser. Suddenly, he’s here. That may be all we’ll ever know.”

  “My cousin has the answer. Perhaps I can pry it out.... What’s that?”

  Someone was tapping at the door. The guard there opened it. “Messenger for Colonel Trebilcock,” he said.

  “Go ahead, Michael. Maybe they found the money.” Sarcastic smile.

  Michael went, curious and a bit nervous. He had been out of touch with his people since yesterday. What had happened? He listened to several minutes of urgent whispers. He returned to the meeting, interrupted continued speculation about Magden Norath. “Your Majesty, there is a rebel movement after all.”

  “Michael?”

  “Can’t really give you anything hard right now. I’m told messages are pouring in. Credence Abaca apparently launched a nationwide offensive at dawn, cadred by Marena Dimura troops. Several smaller garrisons have declared for him. So have the city fathers of Sedlmayr. So far Credence has limited his attacks to your friends of the Estates. The odd thing is, he claims to be Marshall, acting on behalf of King Bragi the Second.” That had shaken Michael when he had heard it. He had expected Kristen to remain in hiding.

  Inger turned pale. “Kristen’s brat? I thought...” She stopped before it became apparent she possessed guilty knowledge. “How strong are they? Why didn’t you warn us this was coming?”

  “I told you, there’s nothing hard yet. I didn’t warn you because I didn’t know. I haven’t been able to penetrate the Marena Dimura community. They won’t have anything to do with outsiders. Number-wise, Credence can’t have much, though. The Marena Dimura aren’t numerous, nor are they well-armed. He’s trying a coup. It’ll fall apart in a few days.”

  “General?”

  “I’d agree, Your Majesty.”

  “You and Michael go deal with it. Now. I’ll expect a report before I turn in.”

  “As you wish, Your Majesty,” Liakopulos said.

  “He pulled a slick one,” Michael observed as he and Liako
pulos stalked through the castle halls.

  “You should have seen it coming. It was too quiet.”

  “Maybe. Still, it should peak today and fall apart before the end of the week.”

  Michael guessed wrong. Sundown brought the second phase of Abaca’s campaign. It left the nation staggered. He employed the Harish on loan from Yasmid. Michael had all but forgotten them. Half the religious fanatics struck in the vicinity of Vorgreberg. Three teams of three hurled themselves at Greyfells and Norath. Norath’s sorcery saved him and the Duke, but both were gravely wounded. Most of their captains were slain. Josiah Gales missed death by sheer luck.

  The Estates suffered even more grievously. Abaca’s planning had been meticulous, and aimed at the heart of the opposition. He was using men who did not care if they came out alive. Their strike crippled Inger’s ability to respond to the rebellion.

  Almost immediately, the surviving cadre battalions of the South Bows and Sedlmayr Light regiments declared for Bragi II.

  Michael and Liakopulos flanked Inger at a table on which a map of Kavelin lay. Their voices were soft, and concerned. “Count out Delhagen, Holtschlaw, Uhlmansiek, and Orthwein,” Michael said. “Damn. Four provinces gone already. And half a dozen more suspect.”

  “General, what about the other regiments?”

  “The Damhorsters will stick. The Vorgrebergers and Queen’s Own are safe. And, of course, the Guard is sound.”

  “What about the Breidenbachers and Borderers? And the garrison in the Gap?”

  “The Borderers are too dispersed to go either way. Split them according to the sentiment of the area where they’re stationed. Maisak is temporizing. I haven’t heard anything from the Breidenbachers.”

  “Do something. If they go.... look at the damned map. The whole east would be against us. Some of their units are within a few miles of Vorgreberg.”

  “You forgot the Midlands Light,” Michael said. The Midlands Light hadn’t taken part in the summer exercises. None of its men had gone east with. Ragnarson. It remained at full strength.

  “Let’s not talk about them,” Inger said. “About them we should pray. If they go, we’re dead.”

  “Don’t give up on them,” Liakopulos said. “They’re mostly Wesson, but Credence never had much influence with them.”

  “Find out,” Inger ordered. “Find out fast. If they stick, start using them. Use them fast.”

  The End

 


 

  Glen Cook, An Ill Fate Marshalling

 


 

 
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