Flamecaster (Shattered Realms #1)(89)

Meanwhile, the king scanned the empress’s message quickly, then thrust it at Destin. “She knows. The bloody empress knows we’ve found the girl. She wants to make the exchange as soon as possible.”

“But . . . that doesn’t make sense,” Destin muttered. “How could she possibly know?”

“She’s a bloody sorceress,” the king snarled. “A witch. Maybe she sacrificed a virgin or a goat. How would I know?”

“She’s a witch?” Fosnaught looked betrayed. “Commander Strangward never mentioned that.”

Destin read, tracing the script with a finger. “‘I understand that you now have the magemarked girl in your possession. I have sent Commander Strangward with an array of gifts, including a powerful weapon that will ignite terror in the hearts of your adversaries. This will be evidence of my good faith.’” He looked up. “What’s all this about a weapon? Did you see it, Fosnaught?”

The cleric shook his head. “It’s still on board his ship.”

“She promised us an army of mages,” General Karn said, snatching the parchment from his son’s hand and reading it over himself. “What makes her think that we would be satisfied with a weapon?”

“It takes time and resources to move an army,” Destin said. “The empress might have been unwilling to undertake it without knowing for sure that the girl is the one she is seeking.”

“What would you know about armies?” General Karn growled.

The general never misses an opportunity to take a shot at his son and heir, Lila thought. I wonder why.

Destin met his father’s sneer unflinchingly. “Given that the empress learned of the girl’s presence here so quickly, I think we have to assume that she has agents right here in the capital.”

“Agents that you should have ferreted out before now.”

“Lord Strangward is eager to meet as soon as is conveniently possible,” Fosnaught said, as if eager to reclaim the stage. “He says that any time after dinner would suit him.”

“Tonight?” Montaigne snorted. “He shows up here unannounced and demands an immediate audience with the king of the Realm?”

The cleric’s mouth twisted, as if he tasted something sour. “He appears to be . . . unschooled in court manners, Your Majesty. From his appearance, I would have guessed him to be a horse savage. Or a pirate.”

“He’ll just have to wait,” the king said. “Tell Strangward we’ll meet with him tomorrow in the Small Hall.”

Fosnaught cleared his throat. “Tomorrow is the Feast of Saint Malthus.”

“The day after tomorrow, then,” Montaigne amended.

“Lord Strangward would prefer that we meet on board his ship, so that he can display the weapon, which is down in the hold.”

“If he thinks that I am foolish enough to get on board a ship with a pirate, he is sadly mistaken,” the king said. “I don’t mean to be carried off to the Northern Islands and held for ransom.”

“Your Majesty,” Destin said. “Could we perhaps meet in your pavilion at dockside? That would be close to the ship, and yet would allow us to meet on our home ground.”

“I see no reason to meet this barbarian halfway,” Montaigne said. “He should be happy that I am meeting with him at all.”

His liege men looked at one another, as if each hoped that one of the others would speak up. They want this deal to go forward, Lila thought, whatever it is.

Strangward might be unschooled in courtly ways, but the king has no practice at diplomacy, either. He’s used to getting what he wants by force.

“Your Grace,” General Karn said. “We need that army, we need the funds, and if the empress is offering a fearsome weapon, we need that, too, especially now.”

“It is your failures that have put us into this position, Karn,” Montaigne said. “Don’t forget that.”

“It could rekindle enthusiasm for the war in the Thane Council,” Botetort said. “We have nothing to lose and much to gain by hearing what the barbarian has to say.”

“It’s a wise leader who keeps his eyes on the ultimate goal—uniting the Seven Realms under Ardenine rule, and in the grace of the true church,” Fosnaught said. “We know that you are the kind of strategic thinker who takes the long view, even if it involves dealing with . . . witches. At least until we get what we need from her.”

The king looked from one to the other, a muscle working in his jaw. “Spare me the flattery, gentlemen,” he said. “Very well. We will meet in the Small Hall. Fosnaught, tell Pettyman to arrange for housing for Strangward and his crew outside the—”

“He prefers to stay on board his ship, Your Majesty,” Fosnaught said. “He does not want to inconvenience you or impose on your hospitality.”

“Is that so?” the king said. “If true, that would be a first. Lieutenant Karn, tell Pettyman to arrange for new quarters for the girl, inside the keep, but on one of the upper floors, in the tower.”

“It’s already in process, Your Majesty,” Destin said.

Montaigne swung toward Ash, who still seemed to be studying the contents of the bag, though Lila suspected he was listening closely. “How’s the girl’s health?”