Stormcaster (Shattered Realms #3)(62)

“But . . . that won’t bring Harper or Mother back,” Robert said.

Their father squeezed Robert’s shoulder. “We are men, Robert,” he said. “Sometimes men have to make hard decisions.”

Robert twisted away from Matelon’s hand. “If the hostages were freed, wouldn’t King Jarat be more likely to negotiate?”

“No doubt,” their father said, with a hoarse laugh. “Jarat has an army, but armies need feeding whether they are fighting or not. He has no money and no territory north of the capital. If the savages in Bruinswallow and We’enhaven sense weakness on his part, they’ll be pressing in at the borders. Right now, I’d rather be us than him.”

“Well, I don’t want to be us!” Robert shouted. “I don’t want to be us at all. If the king won’t let our families go, we need to free them ourselves.” And he stomped up the stairs, leaving Hal and his father staring at each other across the table.

“It’s hard to be young,” Matelon said, shaking his head.

“It’s hard, period,” Hal said, pushing his last bite of meat around on his plate. He considered asking for permission to go to the capital to see if he could find out where the hostages were being kept. He still had friends in the Ardenine army that he would trust with his life. But he suspected that Matelon would be reluctant to approve any enterprise that might result in putting one more hostage in Jarat’s keep.

If he asked permission and his father said no, then he definitely couldn’t go.

Better to ask forgiveness than to ask permission, Hal thought.

Matelon cocked his head. “Robert has always been headstrong, but you’ve always been the steady one,” he said. “Enchanted or not, your time in the north has changed you.”

Hal nodded. That, at least, was something they could agree on.

“I know that you’re disappointed that we can’t open another front right now, but we have to choose our battles. As you’ve seen, it’s hard enough to persuade the thanes to finish the war we’re in. I’ll tell you right now, there will be no support for coming to the aid of the witch queen.”

Hal pushed his plate away and drained his cup, knowing there was no point in continuing to argue. “I understand, sir.”

In the past, that would have ended it, but his father continued to study Hal, as if seeing something he hadn’t seen before. “I have agents in the north. I promise I’ll get in touch with them and see what we can find out. In the meantime, we need to take advantage of this opportunity to end the civil war. That will make us strong enough to resist outside forces.”

Lord Matelon paused, and when Hal said nothing, continued. “We’ve been able to persuade a number of soldiers from the regular army to come over to our side. Once word gets out that you’re with us, more will come. I would like to consolidate all of our soldiers under your command. I’ll make that case when we meet with the others tomorrow.”

Hal nodded. “What about mages? Have any of them come over?”

Matelon rubbed his chin. “Not many, and most of those are collared, so it’s hard to predict what they might do in a battle situation. It’s hard to argue with a collar.”

“How are we doing for ordnance?”

“I’ve been building a stockpile, but our allies have not been particularly forthcoming.” Matelon grimaced. “Each man wants to hold on to what’s his. It’s not just the war with Jarat that they’re concerned about, it’s after. But there’s someone I want you to meet. She’s been sourcing weapons for the crown for a year or two, and she thinks she can help us with magical ordnance.”

“She’s been working for the crown?” Hal raised an eyebrow. “Do you trust her?”

His father laughed hoarsely. “She’s a practical sort,” he said. “Our money spends as well as any, and right now we’re the ones who are buying.” He looked toward the door. “There she is now.”

The girl who’d just entered shook rainwater from her dark curls and looked around the room. When she spotted them at their corner table, she shed her cloak and draped it over her arm, signaled to the barkeep, then crossed the room to them. “Lord Matelon,” she said. “Good to see you.”

“Barrowhill,” Hal’s father said. “We were just talking about you. Please join us.”

Years of his mother’s training kicked in. Hal stood, bowed, and pulled out a chair for her. Barrowhill slowly turned her head and looked him up and down as if he were a creature she’d not seen before. Then plucked at her skirts as if they were the fanciest of ball gowns and lowered herself into the chair, ruining the effect by squirming a bit to get settled. The server plunked a pint of bingo down in front of her.

A pint? Hal thought. That would put any teamster on his back in short order.

She raised her glass in a toast. “I see that the rumors are true, Captain. Welcome back from the dead. Tell me what it’s like on the other side.”

Hours later, when Hal went upstairs, he knocked at Robert’s door, hoping to settle him a little. There was no answer. He knocked again. His brother was usually a light sleeper. Finally, he pushed the door open.

The bed was empty. Robert was gone.





25


POINT AND COUNTERPOINT