al Nakir recently. Yasmid routed Megelin. She could not follow up. Magden Norath is in Al Rhemish. He could become a tool of the Meddler again. Kavelin is chaotic and getting more so. If the Meddler was behind the raid here his intent might have been to inject you into that chaos to see the fur and blood fly.”
“You said you were thinking that way yourself.”
“I was. Because of my fondness for you and my fondness for Kavelin, which was my home for so long. And because it would be useful to me, as Empress, to have a stable, reliable, friendly monarch there.”
“You walked out.”
“I did. You’re no longer the Bragi Ragnarson who built Kavelin. You wouldn’t go back and make things right. You would work the Meddler’s mischief.”
Ragnarson started pacing. He said nothing. He did not trust himself to control his rage.
“As you will.” Mist moved to the exit. “Do try to use this time more fruitfully. This has to be a life sentence only if you insist.”
Ragnarson’s lips pulled back in a snarl.
...
Nepanthe, with Smyrena in her lap, leaned against her husband. “Why is Bragi that way?” The baby cooed and kicked. “What happened to him?”
Varthlokkur knew a broader question was being asked. Identical stubbornness, on his part, had caused the breach with Ragnarson. That rift underlay all the evil that had befallen Kavelin since. “‘And the Wicked flee where none do pursue.’”
“What?”
“A not quite apposite quotation from a forgotten book. As to the question, I don’t know why Bragi changed. There’s always a temptation to think such shifts are sparked externally.”
“Somebody cast a spell.”
“Possibly. But it’s also possible that massive bad cess just twisted his mind.”
Smyrena needed burping. Nepanthe moved the infant to her shoulder. She gave Varthlokkur a hard look as she did.
He said, “When you’re the one behaving badly you blame outside forces. Unless you’re emotionally invested in being too strong-willed to be influenced.”
“You’d then have an adventure justifying yourself.”
“You would.” The wizard leaned in for a better view of what Ragnarson would do now that he was alone.
Nepanthe said, “Ethrian had a good day. I think he’s starting to get better.”
“Excellent. Excellent.”
“I wish we could resurrect that Sahmaman. He really loved her.”
“I’m sure he did. Her behavior showed that she loved him, too. But we can’t ignore one iron truth. The real Sahmaman died thousands of years ago. We saw a memory given flesh by godlike power.”
“I know. I’m wishful-thinking. I just want Ethrian to heal.”
“I understand.” The wizard would not dismay her by saying that the boy would never escape his raging insanity.
†
CHAPTER FIVE
YEAR 1017 AFE:
SPRING THREATENING
T he Queen’s liaison with the commander of her bodyguard was an open secret. Everyone inside Castle Krief knew. Everyone gossiped and almost everyone pretended complete ignorance to outsiders. Unaware, Inger and Josiah Gales kept going through the motions of a strictly professional relationship.
Inger asked, “Is it time for Dane?”
Gales, never entirely committed to anyone, said, “He could give up and go home. Family interests have suffered. Money is running short. Desertions and ambushes have his force down to three hundred.”
“I admire your desire to keep faith with Dane. He doesn’t deserve you. Tell his soldiers they could come here. I’d like more Itaskians around me.”
...
Dane of Greyfells was not well. He was pallid in the extreme. Any movement caused pain. Gales had been cautioned against taking notice. He expressed strong gratitude when offered a chair beside the Duke, in front of the fire.
“This is so much better than Castle Krief. Inger won’t waste fuel on heating.” Countless economies were under way. The Crown had a very limited income.
“What news, Josiah? Is there any hope? If not, I should cut my losses. Go home with my
“You said you were thinking that way yourself.”
“I was. Because of my fondness for you and my fondness for Kavelin, which was my home for so long. And because it would be useful to me, as Empress, to have a stable, reliable, friendly monarch there.”
“You walked out.”
“I did. You’re no longer the Bragi Ragnarson who built Kavelin. You wouldn’t go back and make things right. You would work the Meddler’s mischief.”
Ragnarson started pacing. He said nothing. He did not trust himself to control his rage.
“As you will.” Mist moved to the exit. “Do try to use this time more fruitfully. This has to be a life sentence only if you insist.”
Ragnarson’s lips pulled back in a snarl.
...
Nepanthe, with Smyrena in her lap, leaned against her husband. “Why is Bragi that way?” The baby cooed and kicked. “What happened to him?”
Varthlokkur knew a broader question was being asked. Identical stubbornness, on his part, had caused the breach with Ragnarson. That rift underlay all the evil that had befallen Kavelin since. “‘And the Wicked flee where none do pursue.’”
“What?”
“A not quite apposite quotation from a forgotten book. As to the question, I don’t know why Bragi changed. There’s always a temptation to think such shifts are sparked externally.”
“Somebody cast a spell.”
“Possibly. But it’s also possible that massive bad cess just twisted his mind.”
Smyrena needed burping. Nepanthe moved the infant to her shoulder. She gave Varthlokkur a hard look as she did.
He said, “When you’re the one behaving badly you blame outside forces. Unless you’re emotionally invested in being too strong-willed to be influenced.”
“You’d then have an adventure justifying yourself.”
“You would.” The wizard leaned in for a better view of what Ragnarson would do now that he was alone.
Nepanthe said, “Ethrian had a good day. I think he’s starting to get better.”
“Excellent. Excellent.”
“I wish we could resurrect that Sahmaman. He really loved her.”
“I’m sure he did. Her behavior showed that she loved him, too. But we can’t ignore one iron truth. The real Sahmaman died thousands of years ago. We saw a memory given flesh by godlike power.”
“I know. I’m wishful-thinking. I just want Ethrian to heal.”
“I understand.” The wizard would not dismay her by saying that the boy would never escape his raging insanity.
†
CHAPTER FIVE
YEAR 1017 AFE:
SPRING THREATENING
T he Queen’s liaison with the commander of her bodyguard was an open secret. Everyone inside Castle Krief knew. Everyone gossiped and almost everyone pretended complete ignorance to outsiders. Unaware, Inger and Josiah Gales kept going through the motions of a strictly professional relationship.
Inger asked, “Is it time for Dane?”
Gales, never entirely committed to anyone, said, “He could give up and go home. Family interests have suffered. Money is running short. Desertions and ambushes have his force down to three hundred.”
“I admire your desire to keep faith with Dane. He doesn’t deserve you. Tell his soldiers they could come here. I’d like more Itaskians around me.”
...
Dane of Greyfells was not well. He was pallid in the extreme. Any movement caused pain. Gales had been cautioned against taking notice. He expressed strong gratitude when offered a chair beside the Duke, in front of the fire.
“This is so much better than Castle Krief. Inger won’t waste fuel on heating.” Countless economies were under way. The Crown had a very limited income.
“What news, Josiah? Is there any hope? If not, I should cut my losses. Go home with my
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