Chapter Twenty-four

Curtell, Braedon

All color drained from the emperor’s face as he read the message, a hand coming up to cover his mouth as if he feared he might cry out at the tidings from Aneira.

“Ean save us all!” he breathed. He looked up at Dusaan for a moment, horror in his small green eyes. “They’re animals, High Chancellor! We’ve allied ourselves with brutes and demons!”

Dusaan would have liked to rip the parchment from the man’s fat fingers so that he might read it himself. But there was nothing for him to do but wait while the emperor read the message a second time and fretted like a spoiled child.

“Perhaps if Your Eminence allowed me to read the message…” he suggested when he could stand it no longer.

“What?” Harel said looking up. “Oh, yes. Of course.”

He held out the scroll to Dusaan. After the chancellor took it from him he slumped back in his chair and closed his eyes. One would have thought the very act of reading the message had overwhelmed him.

Dusaan read of the poisoning and Grigor’s execution without reaction. The deaths of the two dukes didn’t trouble him, nor did the loss of three Qirsi ministers. By serving Eandi nobles, they had betrayed their people. Their lives meant as little to him as the lives of the Eandi. That is, until he realized that one of the dead Qirsi was the first minister of Bistari, one of those who served him. He had lost too many of his underlings recently-he could ill afford to lose another.

“Demons and fire,” he muttered.

Harel nodded. “I know.”

At least the queen had survived, and her daughter as well. Had Gngor succeeded in killing off all the leaders of House Solkara, it would have so weakened the Supremacy that civil war might have become inevitable. As it was, the selection of the girl as Carden’s successor, and Numar of Renbrere as regent, promised to bring some stability to the kingdom. He couldn’t know if Pronjed had any involvement in these events, but somehow, through skill or plain dumb luck, the archminister had managed to keep Aneira from descending into civil war. A good thing; with so many Qirsi dying, Dusaan would have hated to have to kill another.

He handed the scroll back to the emperor, keeping his expression grim.

“Do we really wish to ally ourselves with such people, High Chancellor?”

“These tidings are disturbing, Your Eminence. They are proof once more of why Braedon is destined to rule all the Forelands. Such depravity and wickedness on the part of the six can only lead to their decline and our glory.”

“Indeed,” the emperor said, brightening. “Well said, High Chancellor.”

“Awful as these events may seem, however,” Dusaan went on, keeping his tone light, “they should not change our plans substantially.”

“No?”

“House Solkara still rules, and though Lord Renbrere may need some time to earn the trust of his dukes and the army, particularly after his brother’s crime, I have no doubt that he will welcome any overtures from the empire.”

Harel sat forward once more, obviously interested in what Dusaan was telling him. “What of this girl, and Carden’s wife?”

“They are nothing, Your Eminence. Numar rules Aneira, if not in name, then in fact. We need only win his trust to assure our success.”

“Then the invasion can go on as we planned.”

“In time, yes. Numar will not be ready for several turns. We thought half a year when we heard of Carden’s death, and that still seems right to me. Six or seven turns, perhaps a few more. But we need not wait much longer than that.”

The emperor nodded, but even as he did, his gaze fell to the scroll once more.

“Poisoning is a terrible thing,” he said, his voice low. “It’s a coward’s way.” He started to say something else, then stopped himself, glancing uncomfortably at the chancellor.

Dusaan knew what he was thinking. “Poison is the weapon of a Qirsi. The saying dated back to the early years of the empire, when memories of the Qirsi Wars and Carthach’s betrayal were still fresh, and even men who coveted Qirsi magic for their courts spoke of the sorcerer race with contempt.

“Dusaan,” the emperor said, sounding almost shy, as if what he was about to say frightened him, “have you heard the rumors of a Qirsi conspiracy?”

He had been expecting this for some time now and so had no trouble keeping his composure. In truth, he had thought the fat fool would raise these questions long ago, and he had wondered if answering them would make him uneasy. As it turned out, he had to struggle to keep from laughing at the man.

“Yes, Your Eminence, I’ve heard them.”

“Do you give them much credence?”

“I think it would be imprudent to do otherwise, Your Eminence. Don’t you?”

“Are you alarmed by what you’ve heard?”

Such blind, foolish trust. It was as if the emperor never even considered the possibility that Dusaan could be involved, much less the movement’s leader.

“Alarmed?” The chancellor shook his head. “No. But I think it’s fair to say that I’m listening carefully to all that I hear of this conspiracy, lest there come a time when rumor gives way to reality.”

“Yes, of course,” the emperor said, nodding so vigorously that the flesh under his chin shook. “No doubt that’s very wise.”

Dusaan narrowed his eyes. “Are you wondering if the poisoning was the work of these Qirsi?”

“It had crossed my mind. After all, it was poison…”

And Ean forbid that an Eandi would be cowardly enough to put oleander in the queen’s wine. “Yes, Your Eminence, it was.”

“Not that all Qirsi would do such a thing,” the emperor added. “Not that you would. But it does give one pause.”

“Of course. If you’d like, I’ll ask the other chancellors and ministers what they’ve heard of this conspiracy and whether they think it may be responsible for recent events in Aneira.”

“Yes, Dusaan, that would be fine.”

The Weaver made a half turn toward the door, as if to go, hoping that would be the end of their conversation. But the emperor didn’t dismiss him.

“Have you noticed, High Chancellor, that most of the killings attributed to the conspiracy have taken place elsewhere? The empire has largely been spared. It’s almost as if the weakness of the six invites such tragedies, while our strength keeps us safe.”

Again, he had to keep from laughing. Braedon had been spared because Dusaan chose to spare it. The last thing he wanted was for the emperor to grow suspicious of his Qirsi before Dusaan had the chance to turn the empire’s army and fleet to his purposes. Eventually, he would command enough Qirsi warriors that he would no longer need the emperor’s soldiers, but that time had not yet come.

“I hadn’t noticed, Your Eminence. But now that you bring it to my attention it seems clear that you’re correct. These Qirsi may believe they can weaken the other kingdoms, but they would not dare make an enemy of the empire.”

Harel smiled, looking far too satisfied with himself. “Quite right, High Chancellor. But still, I feel the time has come to take some precautions.”

“What kind of precautions?” Dusaan asked, his stomach tightening.

“Well,” the emperor began, suddenly sounding a bit less sure, “I think we should stop bringing new ministers and chancellors into the palace. I’ve enough Qirsi advising me now.”

The Weaver felt himself relax. “That seems wise, Your Eminence.”

“I also think we should watch those Qirsi who already serve me a bit more closely. There may be some among them who wish to betray the empire.”

“Again, a most prudent decision.”

“And finally, I feel that I must make more decisions without consulting any Qirsi at all.” He glanced quickly at the chancellor, then looked down again, toying absently with the Imperial Scepter. “Even you, Dusaan. I realize that I’ve come to rely on you a great deal. Perhaps too much.”