Stormcaster (Shattered Realms #3)(83)

“Yes,” Destin said, looking her straight in the eye, “he did. As the general intended.”

He waited while Marina connected the dots. She never needed an extended explanation.

“So. The king’s soldiers might desert en masse if they find out that young Captain Matelon is on the other side?” she said.

“It’s possible. It doesn’t help that Jarat has been slow about paying the troops. At least Gerard was smart enough to keep his armies happy.” It was time for the ask. “If we can remove the hostages from the equation, Jarat might see reason and negotiate with the thanes.”

Marina considered this. “Is there any way they would accept a truce that would allow him to keep his throne and his head?”

“I don’t know,” Destin said honestly. “It’s early yet, and he hasn’t committed any unforgivable sin. There’s still time for him to show that he’s more reasonable than his father. The thanes really don’t want another civil war. They want an end to the war they’ve been fighting for a quarter century. They want to keep some of their money, for a change.”

“So they can fight another war against the empress?” Marina raised an eyebrow.

“Nobody wants that one, either,” Destin said. “But in this case we may have no choice. Who knows? A show of strength from us might send the empress back across the Indio, and that would be the best outcome of all.”

“But you don’t believe that will happen,” Marina said.

Destin shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

“So you want me to help you free the hostages,” the queen said.

“Yes,” Destin said, meeting her gaze straight on.

“We’re talking about women and children,” Marina said. “They’re being kept in the most secure part of the dungeon. I’ve been trying to talk Jarat into moving them into better quarters for months. This is not how you treat people you may need on your side later on. If you try to break them out of the pits, there will be casualties, and that will defeat the purpose.”

“That’s why we have to get them out of the dungeons first. That’s where you come in.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve wielded a sword,” Marina said, flexing her hand. “We Tomlins are better with stilettos and poison.”

Is that how you did for the king?

“I have a plan that will not require swordplay.” I hope. “Next week, you’ll be welcoming nobles and emissaries from all over the empire to celebrate His Majesty’s coronation.”

Jarat’s coronation had been a hurried, secretive affair after the attack on the city and Gerard’s death. Now, four months in, he’d decided to host his first major social and diplomatic event, to demonstrate the power and stability of the empire despite the fractious lords. As regent and queen mother, Marina was King Jarat’s official hostess, since the king had not yet married.

“I’m not looking forward to that,” Marina said, rolling her eyes.

“No?” Destin pretended surprise. “Didn’t Jarat promise it would be the party of the year?”

“Compared to what?” Marina nudged a plate of pastries toward him. “Some of the down-realms’ representatives will be staying a month with their families. Why not stay and feast at the king’s expense? With so many of the estates under control of the rebels, our larders are nearly empty. That means we’ll probably be eating beans and barley cakes until the new crops come in. They’ll be feasting and dancing alone, because most of the court is either in rebellion or lying low at their country estates. So it will be on me to entertain them.” She laughed and poured more wine. “Forgive me. I’m not usually one for whining.”

“Could you invite the hostages to the reception? Wouldn’t that help fill up the ballroom?”

Marina stared at him. “Have you lost your mind? Why would His Majesty agree to that?”

“The lords of the down-realms will be taking Jarat’s measure,” Destin said. “Here’s a young, untried king whose thanes are in rebellion against him. What better way to demonstrate his power than to have the families of the rebellious thanes bending the knee at his coronation and dancing at his reception?”

“I know some of those ladies,” Marina said. “Trust me, they won’t be bending the knee to Jarat. It could get ugly.”

“It will be up to me to convince them to be on their best behavior. We also need to make sure that everyone, down to the babes in arms, attends. Nobody gets left behind.”

“They’ll need clothing—party dresses—and a good scrubbing,” Marina said. “It wouldn’t do a lot for Jarat’s reputation to have them showing up for the reception looking like they’ve been kept in a dungeon for months.”

She’s thinking about logistics, Destin thought. That’s a good sign. “If you tell me what is needed, I will do my best to procure it.”

“You’ll need the cooperation of that despicable Luc Granger,” Marina said, making a face. In addition to being the king’s drinking companion, Granger had been named the king’s bailiff. “Unless you kill him,” she said, brightening.

Destin raised both hands, palms out. “Eventually. But not now. Right now, I need to know if you’re in the game.” With that, he put a copper on the table between them.