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The Steel Queen (The Silk & Steel Saga Book 1) Page 22


  Startled by the statement as much as the voice, the prince began to turn.

  A hand came from behind, resting firmly on his shoulder. “Don’t turn around, my prince. Just sip your brandy and speak quietly and no one else will notice.” The hand retreated back into the darkness.

  Danly waited, keen with interest.

  After a while, the deep voice whispered, “Do you miss your father?”

  A dangerous question, yet Danly chose to answer. “They say my father’s face looks out at me from the mirror every morning but I would not know.” A long held bitterness crept into his voice. “They say that my royal mother devoured her mate once the spare heir was born. With the birth of a second son there was no more use for the father, so now the Widow Spider rules alone, the undisputed queen.” With a drunken laugh, he added, “They say in the barracks that it was the prince consort who died of birthing pains not the queen.” It was dangerous talk, but somehow Danly didn’t care. Perhaps it was the brandy or perhaps it was the boredom, either way, the Dark Lord could take his royal mother for all he cared.

  The deep voice whispered, “Many would see a king return to the Rose Throne. It is unnatural for men to be ruled by a mere woman.”

  “It is my royal mother who is unnatural. There’s no woman in her, only queen.” Danly swirled the brandy, oblivion in a glass. “She was never enough of a woman to be a mother to me.” He hardened his voice. “Women are not meant to rule. The gods made women for one reason and one reason only, to pleasure men.” His voice turned bitter. “My lord father failed to teach the queen that one lesson. It is a lesson that has not been lost on the son.”

  Fire crackled in the hearth, the scent of pine filling the room. Just when Danly began to think he was alone, the voice said, “There are many men of the kingdom who chaff under the yoke of a woman. If these men knew that a rightful king was ready to lead, they would rise up and put an end to the Spider Queen.”

  Snorting into his brandy, Danly said, “A rightful heir! You speak of my brother then! Crown Prince Stewart the Good! My dear brother is nothing more than an insipid lap dog for my mother, happy to trot along and play with swords. My royal older brother has no head for politics or the crown, perhaps that’s why the queen favors him so, knowing he will never be a threat.” With a cruel chuckle he added, “I’d bet all the golds in my purse that my dear royal brother has not even tupped a woman. Stewart would never dare dip his royal wick without first gaining permission from the queen. Is that the type of ‘rightful heir’ you seek?”

  This time the voice was quick to respond. “No, my lord prince. Lanverness needs a strong ruler, a real man, a true king. Many have watched you grow and seen your worth. You have the strength to act and to take what you want. We seek to pass over the weak firstborn son in favor of the stronger second prince.”

  Like a spark to dry tinder, the words lit a bonfire in his soul. Danly yearned to grasp the destiny denied him. Only an insipid older brother and an unnatural mother stood in his way. But he also knew how dangerous the game could be, a tantalizing game, a game of great risks and greater consequences…a game the gambler in him could not resist. But there was no need to throw caution to the wind. In a shrewd voice, the prince said, “And who are these men who would support the rightful heir to the throne?”

  Whispers from the darkness replied, “It is not yet time for us to be revealed. We are still gathering strength. Be assured, majesty, brave men will fight and die for your cause.”

  Danly sneered. “How brave can they be if they will not even creep out of the shadows?”

  A pregnant silence filled the darkness.

  Danly thought he’d scared the man away, but the voice whispered, “When our conversation is done, I will leave the room, passing in front of the fireplace. You will see my face and recognize it, but you will say nothing. You will think about how you have treated me in the past and you will make sure to continue in the same manner. Do you understand?”

  A smile slid across the prince’s face, the stakes of the game were getting interesting. “I understand. But if I cannot approach you, how will I contact you?”

  “Are you familiar with the coat of arms of your father’s house?”

  A simmering anger woke in the prince. His claim to the Rose Throne, and even his surname, flowed from his royal mother’s blood. In order to marry the future queen, his father had been forced to forsake his name and the noble heraldry that went with it. The coat-of-arms for house Terrel could only be found in the musty scrolls of the palace library, as if the queen had erased all traces of her dead husband. “I am well aware of my father’s coat of arms, a red unicorn rampant on a field of green.”

  “There are others who have not forgotten. Your loyal supporters have taken the red horn of the unicorn as our symbol. If you wish to contact us, you need only draw a red horn on the rear wall near the rose bushes in the Commoners’ Garden. Draw that symbol with red chalk and one of us will approach you before the day is done. But only use the symbol if you have great need. Be patient, my prince, while we build our numbers.”

  “And what am I to do in the meantime?”

  “The queen makes enemies when she ignores the powerful men in her court. Make careful note of those enemies, for they will soon become your allies.” A hand gripped his shoulder, full of assurance. “I look forward to the day when I can acknowledge you in public. Till then, remember that you must never approach me. Treat me the same way as you did before we had this conversation, before you took your first step towards your rightful crown.”

  A rustling sound came from the darkness behind him. Danly held his breath as a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, stepping into the light of the fireplace. The prince sat stunned. With this man as his ally, there was every chance he would one day wear the Rose Crown. Playing his part, Danly remained in the chair slowly sipping his brandy, while the fires of ambition burned in his heart.

  35

  Liandra

  A mound of scrolls covered the small reading table next to the stuffed armchair. Queen Liandra sat immersed in the financial accounts of the kingdom. She could have asked her treasurer to give her a summary of the accounts but she found it beneficial to review the numbers herself. Wealth was in the details. To most people, numbers were an arcane mystery, but not to the queen. Clear as a seer’s scrying bowl, she read the future in the numbers, finding new ways to multiply her golds. Wealth was the true strength of Lanverness, and the queen refused to see a single copper squandered.

  A knock on the door broke the silence of her solar. Ignoring the interruption, the queen continued reading. The guards had firm orders about whom to admit and whom to turn away. Hearing the door open, she knew that it could only be one of a handful of people. Glancing up from the scroll, she was not surprised to see Lord Highgate, the Master Archivist. Dressed in his usual austere robes of black, her spymaster looked more like an undertaker than the chief counselor to the richest court in the land. Despite his grim appearance, the queen would have staffed her entire court with dour men provided they had half the intellect of the Master Archivist.

  “Majesty, I am sorry to interrupt but I have several things to bring to your attention.”

  Setting aside the scroll, she offered him a nod of approval.

  “The jewelers commissioned to make your necklace using the royal rubies have completed their work. They await your approval.”

  Intrigued, the queen replied, “Please tell us the names of the jewelers and then show them in. We are most interested to see the outcome of their work.”

  “The senior artisan is Master Saddler, the goldsmith, a short heavyset man with gray hair. The other is Master Geld, the gem cutter.”

  Liandra gave a wave of approval and the master opened the door. The two jewelers bowed their way across the floor, gawking at every detail of the royal solar.

  Addressing the two men, the queen said, “Masters Saddler and Geld, we are eager to see the results of your art.”

 
; Flushed with praise, the jewelers bowed low. Master Saddler carried a pillow draped in silk. “We were honored with your royal commission. We hope you will be pleased with our work.” With a flourish, he removed the silk cloth, unveiling the necklace.

  The queen had a keen eye for jewelry; the piece was exquisite. Designed to cleverly capitalize on the variance of color in the dark rubies, the stones were set in a golden sunburst, with the darkest rubies close to the neck and lighter rubies radiating out towards the points of the sunburst, creating a blaze of reflected light. The queen turned her gaze to the jewelers. “What is your assessment of the royal rubies?”

  Master Saddler had the look of man expecting to be rich. “As per the instructions from the palace, we let word leak to our wealthiest patrons that we were working with a new gem in a special commission for the queen. After glimpsing the work in progress, our shops were flooded with orders. There is no doubt that the royal ruby will be a great success.”

  The queen smiled. “We are most pleased to hear of the public’s interest and we are delighted by the elegance of our new necklace.” She lifted the necklace, turning it in the light. “We predict the artistry of the necklace combined with the natural beauty of the royal rubies will spark a new fashion trend in Lanverness. In recognition of your excellent work, we grant you the right to display the symbol of royal patronage above the doors to your shops for a period of one year. You may go with our thanks.”

  The two jewelers flushed with pleasure. The right to display the symbol of royal patronage meant their shop’s business would double within a year. The queen smiled. The jewelers had been amply paid for their efforts without drawing a single gold from the royal purse. Liandra examined her new necklace, delighting in the play of light across the dark stones.

  The Master Archivist hovered by her chair. “It would have been a great waste to simply close the mine.”

  Arching an eyebrow, the queen replied, “Yes, we cannot afford to waste the natural wealth of Lanverness.” Setting the necklace aside, she studied her spymaster. “You said that you had several things to bring to our attention?”

  “Yes, your majesty.” Reaching into the deep pockets of his black robe, the master produced a scroll sealed with blue wax. “This arrived at the western gates of the castle.”

  The queen inspected the scroll, surprised to see the symbol of the Kiralynn monks in the unbroken wax seal. Her gaze snapped to her spymaster. “Do we know how this was delivered?”

  “The guard has no recollection of the person who delivered it. Despite the generous use of golds, we still do not know who their agents are in the Rose Court.”

  The queen weighed the scroll, wondering if she held a portent of good news or bad. Either way, messages from the monks were not to be taken lightly. “The monks are too mysterious by half.” Their messages often seemed irrelevant or obscure on first reading but hindsight nearly always proved them to be of great import. There was something uncanny about the monks’ ability to predict the events of Erdhe, despite the fact that they lived as recluses in their remote mountain monastery…or so they would have people think. The queen suspected the monks maintained a web of spies and messengers that would put the agents of the Rose Court to shame. Her own spymaster had yet to discover the monks’ agents in Pellanor. Their best hope was to trace the delivery of one of the mysterious scrolls, but once again her people had failed. Still, she would rather have the message than not. The queen was willing to consider information from any quarter, including the mysterious monks.

  Breaking the seal, she unrolled the scroll. The Master Archivist waited as she read. Finished, Liandra sat back in the chair to ponder the message. Once again the monks had managed to surprise her. She studied her spymaster, knowing he burned to read the scroll yet he maintained a placid visage. The master rarely showed any emotion. It was one of the many qualities she liked about the man.

  She let the scroll roll closed on her lap. “Another unusual message. We shall keep this to ourselves. Bring us the sealing wax.”

  A flicker of annoyance passed across the master’s face but he hid it well. Playing the servant, he strode to the desk, returning with a stick of emerald green sealing wax and a lit candle. Heating the stick in the flame, he expertly dripped wax across the edge of the rolled scroll, sealing it shut. The queen used the gold signet ring on her left hand to imprint the wax, trusting the Royal Seal to ensure the confidentiality of the scroll. She handed the scroll to her spymaster. “We entrust this to your keeping. We will share its contents with you when events make the scroll relevant. Keep it safe while we will wait to see how the future unfolds.”

  The scroll disappeared into the pocket of the master’s black robe. “As you wish.”

  Pondering the monk’s message, the queen said, “Is there anything else you wish to discuss with us?”

  “Yes, majesty, one small thing.”

  Her attention snapped to her spymaster. “And that would be?”

  He fingered his thin gray mustache, his face thoughtful. “The prince has requested your permission to attend the council sessions. He claims a desire to learn more about the governing of Lanverness.”

  For the second time this afternoon the queen was surprised. Her eldest son always eschewed a seat on the council, preferring the way of the sword to politics. Still, it was never too late for her royal son to learn the finer points of ruling a kingdom. After all, the Rose Crown would one day be his to wear. Perhaps the choice of a daughter-in-law would not be as critical as she thought. “We are pleased that Crown Prince Stewart is finally taking an interest in the governance of the kingdom. We would be happy to have him contribute to our council sessions.”

  “Forgive me for not being clear, but it is your other son, Prince Danly, who has made the request.”

  She studied her councilor through hooded eyes. Coming from her younger son, the request was even more unlikely, and more suspicious. Prince Danly’s interests were limited to spending golds, bedding women, and gambling. “How did this request come to your attention?”

  “This morning, after the council meeting, General Helfner approached me on behalf of the prince.”

  “And you did not think it odd?”

  “I found it to be extremely odd, that is why I am bringing it to your majesty’s attention.”

  “Someone plays a very strange game of politics.” The queen was not pleased. “We could see the general sponsoring Prince Stewart, but never Prince Danly.” Suspicions ran rife in her mind, plots within plots. “We never considered the general to be a political man but perhaps we were wrong. What do you suggest, Lord Highgate?”

  “The request raises too many questions. One of my shadowmen should be assigned to watch the general. We need to learn what type of relationship exists between the general and the prince. Once we understand the motive then the actions will become clear.”

  The queen fingered the string of pearls around her neck, considering her loyal men. “You have our permission to watch the general but it must be done with great discretion. We do not wish to sow mistrust amongst our counselors.”

  “And Prince Danly?”

  A touch of anger rode the queen’s voice. “It is past time we had a long conversation with each of our royal sons.” She gave the master a sharp look. “Arrange a private dinner in my sitting room with Prince Stewart for tomorrow night and a second dinner with Prince Danly for the end of the week. In the interim, if your shadowmen learn anything from watching the general, we would hear of it immediately. Are we understood?”

  “Yes, your majesty. And if the prince or the general inquire as to the status of their request?”

  “Their request is under consideration by the queen.” She dismissed him with a wave. “Now leave us, for we have much to ponder.”

  Bowing, the master slipped from the room like a dark shadow.

  Alone in her solar, Liandra turned her mind to the complexities of her court. A political gauntlet had clearly been thrown down. The question was,
by whom? Was the general’s request a blunder or a shrewd feint within a feint? Politics was a lot like swordplay; the real danger was not the blade in front of you but the one that came out of the darkness to stab from behind. As a veteran of the game, the queen knew the hand that struck from behind was usually that of a colleague, a close friend, or even a loved one. The throne was a lonely place…but it was also a position of great power. Liandra preferred to use her power to serve the people of Lanverness, but if needs be, she would not hesitate to exert the full force of the throne to keep the crown upon her head. It was time for the ‘Spider Queen’ to spin a few webs of her own. She wondered who would be caught this time.

  36

  Katherine

  Rain pattered against her face, drawing Kath back to consciousness. Her head was muzzy and her throat parched. She opened her mouth, desperate to drink. A few swallows of rainwater helped to clear her mind. Cold and wet, she leaned against the tree trunk, struggling to understand. And then she saw the mare, lying dead in a pool of blood. A sob escaped her. Shivering against the damp, she wiped a tear from her eye; it was all too true. She was alone, on foot, and hunted by servants of the Dark Lord, servants she knew would never rest until they caught her. Without the mare, Kath did not give herself much of a chance but despite the odds, she refused to give up.

  She reached for her boot, drawing the dagger from its sheath. Running her finger across the smith’s mark, she smiled. Giving up was not the way of the Octagon. She may be the quarry in this chase, but she was also a warrior. If nothing else, she’d teach the servants of the Dark Lord a lesson about steel before she passed on to the next life.

  A pale sun peered through a cloud-shrouded sky, already halfway to the noon position. Most of the morning was already lost. Kath had no way of telling how long it would take the captain and his men to find their way around the gorge, but she had no doubt that they would find a way. If she was going to escape, she had no time to waste.