Spearcaster spoke carefully. “It isn’t my place to speculate on what he may or may not have said to you.”
“What was his position?” Cobalt asked. “The one he deserted?”
“He was a guard for Drummer Headwind,” Spearcaster said. “But if he claims Goodman Headwind has been harmed, he lies.”
“Then why did this lieutenant desert his post?”
“I cannot speak of such matters.”
“Why not?” Cobalt demanded. “Where is my wife?”
Spearcaster blinked. “Your wife?”
“Where have you taken her?”
“Your Majesty, I know nothing of your wife.” Spearcaster narrowed his gaze at Kaj. “This man in no way represents Queen Vizarana, and if he claims we have news of your wife, he lies. I have come to discuss Drummer Headwind and to request safe passage for Sphere-General Fieldson, so he may join us as your envoy.”
Cobalt spoke tightly. “Take your queen a message.” He whirled around and strode to where the groom was holding Admiral’s reins. Cobalt swung onto his horse. To Spearcaster, he said, “She has until sunrise tomorrow to return my wife and Drummer. If they are not in this camp when the first rays of the sun touch the earth, then I will break your army, loot your country and burn Quaaz to the ground.”
He wheeled Admiral around and galloped away then, riding hard through his camp, knowing that if he paused, even for one moment, he would incinerate in the flames of his rage.
Cobalt didn’t know how far he went. He left his army behind and pounded south, with the Dawnfield army to the west and his own to the east. Finally he stopped, threw back his head, and shouted at the merciless sky. His anguish rolled across the land. But the shout couldn’t quench the storm within him or lessen his agony over Mel’s disappearance and the gruesome tales of her death.
Hooves rustled the grass behind him. Bringing around Admiral, he saw Matthew on Hawkspar, waiting a few paces back as if Cobalt were a wild beast that might attack. Cobalt said nothing.
Matthew rode over to him, slow and cautious. “You have no proof they did what Kaj claims.”
Cobalt was clenching the reins so hard his fingernails cut his skin. “Spearcaster was hiding something.”
“Yes, I had that impression. But torture and murder? It didn’t seem so.”
“They have one day to bring Mel and Drummer.”
“And if they don’t have them?”
“I attack.”
“It is a tricky proposition,” Matthew said. “Even if Kaj is lying, even if Mel and Drummer are fine, why would the queen give up her hostages? If you attack, they lose their value. She may have them killed.”
“I will see my wife.” The explosion was building again within Cobalt. He wheeled Admiral around and took off. But no matter how hard or how far he rode, it wouldn’t purge the demons of fear that haunted him.
Jade paced the long balcony. She and Drummer were staying in this citadel tower, guarded by the Harsdown envoy and Spearcaster’s men. She was meeting here with all her generals for the first time since before the wedding. Baz stood by the glass doors with his arms crossed and ignored his guards. They were loyal men who had refused his orders when he sought to stop the marriage. He was the only obvious prisoner on the balcony, but several soldiers were discreetly keeping watch on Slate and Firaz, who stood with Fieldson to her right. Only Spearcaster, who stood by the railing, had no guard. And Drummer. Her new husband leaned against the wall to the left and watched her pace.
“I will not be threatened,” Jade said. “Harsdown sent an envoy to speak with us.” She motioned angrily at Fieldson. “We have spoken to him. We agreed to negotiate according to terms he proposed. Is Cobalt so hungry to fight that he refuses the envoy he sent? No! I will not be coerced by this tyrant.”
“You would go to war instead?” Baz demanded.
“What choice do we have? He will never rest. Not until he conquers every country from the Blue Ocean to the Endless Desert.”
Baz stalked over to her, ignoring his guards. One of them reached to stop the general, but Jade shook her head.
“You had to marry your pretty minstrel,” Baz growled. “Now Ozar refuses us the support we need.”
Drummer stiffened, but he shook his head slightly at Jade. She wanted to lash out at Baz, but she said only, “Ozar will not stand by while Taka Mal falls.”
“Don’t know about that,” Firaz said. “He wanted your throne. Now that he can’t have the blasted chair, maybe he doesn’t care what happens to it.”
“You would have had me marry him?” Jade demanded.
“Hell, no,” Firaz said.
Startled, she said, “No?”
“The Topaz Throne belongs in the House of Quaazera,” he said. “Besides, this treaty business with Aronsdale is a good idea.”
“If it is so brilliant,” Slate said sourly, “why are we facing a war with no allies?”
“Have we any news of Jason Windcrier?” Fieldson asked.
“Nothing,” Jade said, disheartened. She went to the railing and looked out at her army, which was camped in the Rocklands below the Sharp Knife Mountain where this citadel stood. The Chamberlight forces were beyond hers, an ocean of warriors churning at her doorstep. The Aronsdale forces were a gray cloud on the horizon. An enigma. They might have come to ensure Escar left Aronsdale alone. Or they might be ready to support Taka Mal. She just didn’t know.
“We haven’t managed to get a single spy out,” she said. “We think either Cobalt’s or Ozar’s men are catching them.”
Drummer spoke. “I should go to meet Cobalt.”
Firaz scowled at him. “You’re the blasted Topaz Consort. After all that excitement getting you married to Vizarana, we hardly want you dead two days later. Defeats the whole purpose of the thing.”
Jade would die before she put Drummer in danger. If she told him, though, he would insist on protecting her and her country. So instead she said the other truth she knew. “If we give in to Cobalt, we are showing weakness. He will see it. He also wants the Topaz Throne, and apparently he is willing to take it by force.”
“Mel won’t let him,” Drummer said. “She’s the water that cools his fire.”
“Yes, well, what is this manure about us returning her?” Firaz growled. “Can’t the man find his own wife?”
“Kaj has lied to him,” Spearcaster said.
“Why would he do this thing?” Jade asked.
“We investigated him,” Baz said. “It seems he had gambling debts.” He gave a snort. “Someone has mysteriously paid them.”
“Treason for money?” Jade said. “I cannot believe it.”
Slate spoke in as gentle a manner as his gruff voice would allow. “Men have betrayed their sovereign for less.”
Jade clenched her fist. “We must find out who paid him.”
“We will,” Spearcaster said. “But whatever troubles the king goes beyond Kaj’s lies. Cobalt doesn’t strike me as a man who is easily tricked.”
“He isn’t,” Fieldson said. “But when it comes to his wife, he has no shades of gray. He would level the Jagged Teeth Mountains if that was what it took to find her.” Strain deepened the lines on his face. “As would any of the rest of us who watched her grow up from a child of sunlight to a woman.”
Jade wondered who was this Mel Dawnfield that she inspired such intense emotions. “I offer my hopes that she will be found, well and alive.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Fieldson’s voice crackled with tension. “Cobalt needs to know that.”
Jade looked around at her advisors. “We will send an envoy at dawn to tell him and swear we know nothing of his wife. General Fieldson, half the men in your envoy are from the Dawnfield armies. If we can get Cobalt to talk we should say we’re ready to commence negotiations with him and King Jarid.” Who just happened, conveniently, to be available.
“We’ll try to arrange the meeting here,” Slate said. “In the citadel.”
“A good idea.” Ja
de turned to Drummer. “If we do, you’ll attend the negotiations, yes? It will put to rest Cobalt’s suspicions that we harmed you.”
His blue eyes, which had filled with such passion when he held her last night, were like ice this morning. “I wouldn’t miss them for anything.”
Fieldson came forward. “I should go with Spearcaster. I was one of the people in the Harsdown meeting when we decided to send an envoy here. I can remind Cobalt of our discussions. And he may be more willing to believe me about his wife.”
Jade regarded the gray-haired warrior from Harsdown. He was older than her generals, even Spearcaster. As fit and hale as he seemed, she feared for his safety as she would for a grandfather. She liked him even if he was the enemy. He was restrained compared to her fiery Taka Mal commanders, but just as formidable.
“King Cobalt didn’t grant you safe passage,” she told him.
“I don’t think I’ll be in danger,” Fieldson said.
“Send Drummer,” Baz muttered.
Jade scowled at her cousin. “Stop it.”
Drummer joined them. “He’s right, much as I hate to admit it.” When Baz turned the full force of his irate gaze on the minstrel, Drummer raised his hands, palms outward. He didn’t look too concerned, though. Jade suspected he had plenty of experience pacifying irate authorities.
“You can’t go into the Chamberlight camp,” Firaz said. “Let Fieldson and Spearcaster set it up. I will go with them.”
Jade almost groaned. Firaz was a brilliant commander, but he had never been known for diplomacy. More than likely he would end up inflaming Cobalt.
“I thank you for your wise and magnanimous offer,” she told him. “But I am greatly in need of your invaluable services here.”
Firaz gave a curmudgeonly laugh. “You insult me so nicely. All right. I won’t go muck up your negotiations.”
Although Jade managed a smile, she felt anything but light. Maybe Cobalt had never intended to negotiate. The envoy could have been meant as no more than a distraction. Tomorrow he might seek to end her reign—but she would die before she surrendered her throne.
23
Onyx Pact
Drummer slipped into Vim’s night-dark stall, his feet rustling in the hay, and the Jazidian neighed.
“Didn’t know if you would want to see me again,” Drummer said in a low voice. He offered Vim a piece of apple, and the horse munched away.
It took a while to saddle the horse, but he managed. He pulled up the hood of his jacket, then walked Vim across the yard outside the stable, their way lit by pale moonlight. A few workers were around, and a light-bringer came forward with a lamp swinging on his pole. Drummer held up his hand, declining the assistance.
Within moments, he was cantering through the town of Sun’s Breadth that surrounded the citadel. He shared the cobbled lanes with scattered pedestrians on night business, even with a few other riders. Enough people were about that his passing elicited little notice. He approached the gate in the city wall amidst the bustle of arguing shop owners and their helpers, and the tower guards let him through as part of that group.
Outside, the merchants went about setting up a market near the city walls, for tomorrow. With the army in the Rocklands, and soldiers going up and down the mountain, businesses in the town were thriving. The merchants kept their impromptu market close to the wall, however, so they could quickly retreat into the protected town if hostilities erupted among the armies.
Alone, Drummer took Vim down the mountain. The well-worn path would come out in the Rocklands along the Saint Verdant River, the line of green he had struggled to reach during his first escape attempt. Tonight, he would succeed. This time he would ride right past the Taka Mal army. He knew many details about them. In fact, he had heard nothing else for the past few days. He could evade most of their sentries and posts. For those he couldn’t, he knew the passwords and expected behavior, and he even had the same type of horse used by Taka Mal officers. He didn’t expect anyone to stop him. But beyond that? Ozar’s men were patrolling the border; to reach Cobalt’s army, Drummer had to get past them.
He understood why Jade and her advisors didn’t want him going with the envoy at dawn. Their plans were logical. Knowing Cobalt through Mel, however, Drummer understood him in a different light. Cobalt needed to see Drummer to believe he was all right. More importantly, he needed to see Mel, or have tangible proof of her situation. If Drummer could verify Jade had no connection to Mel’s disappearance, he felt certain Cobalt would listen. But that was a leap of faith neither Jade nor her commanders were willing to make, especially given how few times Drummer had actually met the Midnight King. He understood that. But they were wrong. If he could reach Cobalt, he had a chance to stop this madness.
Unfortunately, he had to get through the Jazid lines first. Ozar’s men might capture him. He had a plan for that, too. A good plan—if it worked. If he didn’t lose his nerve. If he could convince Jade to go along with him at the necessary time. If, if if.
Cobalt or Ozar: Either way, Drummer would soon face one of the most formidable warlords among the settled lands.
The atajazid had yet to sleep, though midnight had come and passed. Ozar paced in his tent. He still heard the words of the messenger from Taka Mal who had come today: Cobalt threatens to attack at sunrise. The business with Kaj had not gone as well as Ozar hoped, for Cobalt had given Vizarana time to produce his wife. It would have worked better had Kaj delivered the queen’s body, but she lay buried under tons of rubble. Although it would take time to dig out the remains of the people killed in that collapse, Ozar would have it done when this was all settled, not for the Chamberlight queen, but to honor Shade, who had been Ozar’s confidant, loyal servant, and friend.
Regardless, Vizarana had trouble. Unless she convinced Cobalt that she had nothing to do with his wife’s death, he would invade Taka Mal. It would be a crime for him to take the Topaz Throne. Ozar faced a difficult choice: Join with Vizarana or face Cobalt on his own.
The Jazid army was nearly five thousand strong and he could add another thousand in a year’s time. They were well trained. Fighting in the desert and the Jagged Teeth Mountains would be easy for them and new to the Chamberlight army. They could, conceivably, defeat Cobalt. But if Cobalt took Taka Mal, he would gain what remained of their forces. Chances were he would massacre them, if he believed they had tortured his wife to death, but no certainties existed in that. Although Ozar had a chance to defeat the Chamberlight king, Cobalt could end up with the Onyx Throne, and that would truly be a perversion of nature.
Ozar knew if he supported Vizarana, they had a good chance of defeating Cobalt. Jazid could reabsorb Shazire, perhaps even the Misted Cliffs. It was a worthy goal, and he would take satisfaction in vanquishing this conqueror. And who knew, maybe Drummer Headwind would do everyone a favor and die in the fighting. Then Ozar wouldn’t have to have him assassinated.
Damn Vizarana. He couldn’t fathom why she had married that boy. Drummer was no match for her. She would walk all over him. She had been a fool, and she deserved to pay a price for her betrayal.
A rustle came from the entrance of his tent. “Sire?”
Ozar recognized the voice: General Dusk, his top advisor since Shade’s death. But no one could replace Shade. The late scribe had looked after Ozar in the atajazid’s childhood, a confidant when Ozar’s parents gave him no outlet for his dreams or nightmares. Shade had followed him with loyalty, always at his side. Now he was dead. Ozar didn’t know why the tower had collapsed. The queen had died, too, but it was paltry revenge, for she had to die anyway. He had no one to exact vengeance on except her husband.
“Sire, shall I return later?” Dusk asked.
“No.” Ozar mentally shook himself. Then he went to the entrance and pulled aside the flap. “What is it?”
Dusk stood outside in his rough-hewn sleep clothes. “My apologies for the disturbance. You have a visitor.”
“So late?” Ozar frowned at him. “Who is it?
”
Dusk cleared his throat. “Drummer Headwind Quaazera.”
Ozar stared at him for a good five seconds. Then he murmured, “Well, well. Bring him in.”
Dusk bowed with the deference of a general for his commander rather than the subservience expected from the lesser officers. It was appropriate for his station, but it felt strange to Ozar. Shade’s reverence had always had a pointed quality that kept Ozar alert. He had been the only one who could respond to the atajazid in that manner; Ozar would accept it from no one else.
Ozar walked across the tent to a table, his manner deceptively casual, his shirt open at the neck. The flap rustled and he heard footsteps. Ozar knew it looked as if he were presenting his back to the people coming inside, but he was preternaturally aware of them and able to judge whether or not they posed him a risk, at least in the physical sense. He turned to see Dusk standing by the entrance, his hand on the hilt of his sword. The other man wasn’t as tall. He wore a jacket lined with rich Kazlatarian fur, with the hood pulled up to hide his face. Ozar knew him anyway.
“You may wait outside,” Ozar told Dusk.
The general bowed. “Yes, Sire.”
As Dusk withdrew, Drummer pulled down his hood. He looked like an expensive item Vizarana had bought, with that exotic hair and his rich clothes, which she had undoubtedly given him. No common entertainer could afford such lavish garments, not only the jacket, but also the suede trousers and boots. That she might dally with such a toy, Ozar understood. He didn’t approve of women having that freedom, but Vizarana was no child and she had ruled Taka Mal for nearly a decade. But why the flaming sun had she married him? Ozar didn’t believe for one moment Drummer had the blessing of the Dragon-Sun. This whole business stunk to the mountains.
Drummer spoke wryly. “Judging from your expression, I take it you find me offensive.”
“Oh, you’re fine.” Ozar waved his hand in dismissal. “It’s your new title I find offensive.” He went to a table and poured wine from a copper flask into a pair of tin cups. He didn’t believe in taking luxury items to the battlefield, whether they be goldware, crystal flasks, or expensive consorts.