Chapter Fifteen
22 Teretar
It’s been difficult to get back to research, and I think everyone is having trouble shaking the memory of the kathana. But we have to think about it or their deaths will have been pointless. Clearly, it did something, and Cederic went over the design of the kathana with me and assured me that it did, in fact, try to force a change on pouvrin. So the magic resisted that change violently, and I have to conclude that was the wrong approach.
We probably should have guessed that, since we’re certain the original magic didn’t look exactly like either type we have now, and we were essentially trying to alter Balaenic magic to be Castaviran, not that we thought of it that way. But we’ve run down our list and eliminated every possibility we came up with, which puts us back at the beginning. We still don’t know why will is different, but we’re afraid to try to alter it again. I don’t know. I feel mentally exhausted. Maybe I’ll think of something tomorrow.
Roda looked uncomfortable at the idea of moving into the consul’s palace, though I think some of that was that it was in a Castaviran city full of Castavirans whose language she could only say a few words of. But she saw the sense of it, and I think neither of us wanted to be very far from each other.
It’s so strange, not hating her anymore. Having her back. She and Cederic are sort of formal with each other, but that’s probably because Cederic is formal with everyone. I’ve caught her watching him with this speculative look, like she’s wondering what I see in him beyond him being extremely handsome, since I’m the least formal person she knows. But I think they like each other, or at least can see they have a shared affection for me.
I haven’t introduced Roda to Radryntor because I think she (Radryntor) would just be snobbish toward her. And it’s not as if they speak each other’s language. Things are very tense in the consul’s palace right now. Radryntor still eats with us, meaning Cederic and me and some of the local nobles and the Imperial Retinue (Dugan and Joena, whose praenomi I reluctantly use, Mattiak and the other generals, and Cederic’s aides plus Audryn), but she barely acknowledges me and is only superficially civil to Cederic. I wish she’d challenge us already and get it over with.
23 Teretar
Big storm blew in this morning, which kept us all indoors, and that was good, because I think we’ve come up with something. I don’t remember what got us on this track, but someone must have mentioned residual magic, because that got us all debating what we really ought to call it: foundational magic, source magic, original magic, and somewhere in there I started thinking about what it might look like. So we talked about that. The Castaviran mages were very eloquent on the subject, because it’s only recently their best thinkers have determined it really is where magic comes from rather than being left over when you work magic. And the Balaenic mages came in with their thoughts about whether residual, or foundational, or original magic might be part of pouvrin as well.
That’s what led me to say, “I wonder if we could do something to make it visible.”
I don’t know why that one sentence stopped the discussion cold. Jeddan said, “It’s where it all comes from. It has to have been around when the magics were still combined.”
“That doesn’t have to be true,” Audryn said. “Suppose it’s a symptom—” She stopped, and her eyes grew wide.
“A symptom of the divergence,” Terrael finished.
“Either way, it’s important,” Jeddan said. “If we could see it, we might be able to figure out why the magics aren’t combining.”
“Can we do that?” Jerussa said. “Is that even possible? I thought residual magic was almost a myth until recently.”
“So did I,” said Terrael, “but we know it’s there, and I’m sure we can work out a way to make it visible.”
Everyone started talking at once. It felt as if a shroud had been lifted, as if we’d been wandering in the dark and suddenly seen a gleam of light—distant, but unmistakable. “What do we need?” I asked Terrael.
“The Kilios, if he’s available,” Terrael said. “I can come up with the beginnings of something, but I know he knows more about residual magic than I do. It’s too bad we’re not in Colosse, because the mages at the Kenekis thanest have been studying it for years, but with everyone’s help we should be able to come up with a kathana that will do what we want.”
“I’ll ask Cederic,” I said, “but we should start now and not wait for him, because who knows when he’ll be free.”
I went to find Cederic, who was preparing to sit in judgment in Lethess that morning, and told him what we’d realized. “I will not be able to give you assistance until tomorrow,” he said, “but I will guarantee my presence then. No one has ever thought to do what you propose before.”
“Is that code for ‘it’s impossible’?” I said.
He shook his head. “I mean that such a possibility has been overlooked by many thinkers for many years,” he said, “and I am ashamed it never occurred to me.”
“It’s not as if you had time to study residual magic,” I said, “and besides, you can’t be expected to think of everything.”
He smiled. “I am grateful to have you here to remind me of that,” he said. “And I think you should come with me. The citizens of Lethess need to be reminded that their Empress-Consort is as capable of passing judgment as their Emperor. And before you object, I should point out that in the early stages of your research, most of the work is done with th’an, and you are not needed there.”
“I—all right,” I said. “But I don’t know how useful I’ll be in court. I don’t know much about law.”
“I am learning as I go,” he said. “I have learned something of Balaenic law, thanks to Lady Amelessar’s guidance, and much of what I do in these courts is observe and make plans to integrate our two legal systems, which thankfully are not so different. Most of our duties involve listening carefully, and making decisions that are as fair and just as our limited understandings can manage. You are both fair-minded and compassionate, and those are desirable qualities in a judge.”
So I sat in Granea’s courtroom and listened to complainants, and observed her and Cederic, and made a few comments of my own. Cederic’s right that Castaviran law is similar to Balaenic. I only had to correct him once or twice in the matter of passing sentence (not punitive sentencing, we didn’t hear any criminal suits, more like judgments on property ownership and things like that).
Then we had lunch with Granea, who wanted to know how things were progressing and expressed sympathy for our losses. I glossed over our latest research path, since the details are complicated even for mages, and we talked about the court and what happens when there are serious criminal charges that have to be tried. I hate the idea of being responsible for the life or death of someone.
It makes me think of what will happen when we win (see how optimistic I’m becoming?) and how we’ll have to try a lot of people for treason, probably starting with Garran Clendessar. It seems strange to consider his actions treasonous, since from his perspective he’s the lawful King, but if we are calling ourselves the rulers of this Empire, his resisting us really is treason. I’m still not happy with the idea.
I went back to the mages in the afternoon and wound up supervising pouvrin, everyone working them very slowly and looking for traces of residual magic. And we found it! Hard to see, because pouvrin seem to be more efficient at using it than th’an, but it’s definitely there. That made everyone cheerful. We need to remember this isn’t an impossible task, that we can figure this out, and when I do that I can even forget for whole minutes at a time that magic is fading and that means we have a deadline, even if we don’t know what it is.
Damn. I just fell into despair again.
No, I refuse to let this discourage me. We’ll figure it out eventually. I’m hanging on to that.
24 Teretar
Well, it happened. Radryntor finally defied Cederic and forced his hand. We’re back in the camp now, Cederic not wanting to make things worse by taking up residence in Lethess, and there’s been a lot of talk about what to do next.
That happened around noon, with an argument that started over lunch. Before that—Cederic joined me in discussion with the mages, in which we worked out pieces to a kathana that ought to show “residual” (still no good word for it) magic. Jeddan’s taking the lead, with his greater experience with the see-inside pouvra, but I really can’t remember much of the details because what happened later swept it all out of my mind.
It went like this: We were at lunch, which was as good as it ever is in the consul’s palace, and I was thinking about pouvrin and anticipating getting back to research, when I heard Radryntor say, “Is there some reason you’ve allowed that Balaenic city to continue to defy me, your Majesty?”
“I am unaware of this defiance, Lady Radryntor,” Cederic said, calmly even though Radryntor’s voice had a shrill edge to it. “To what are you referring?”
“We’ve instructed the Balaenics to submit to inspection when their wagons pass our city limits along the coast road,” Radryntor said. “We can’t afford to have them upsetting the balance of trade.”
“I see,” Cederic said. “I take it they refuse.”
“They’ve come to blows with our inspectors several times now,” Radryntor said. “I thought you instructed them not to attack our people.”
“I think you may be under some misapprehension,” Cederic said. “I have instructed both cities to avoid conflict. And I believe I have told you while you are of course free to levy tariffs on trade within your boundaries, you have no authority to prevent the Balaenic merchants from passing through Pfulerre on their way to trade elsewhere.”
“We can’t guarantee they won’t lie to us about their destination,” she said. “It’s my responsibility to protect this city’s economy.”
“As it is the Emperor’s responsibility to protect the welfare of this Empire’s citizens, Balaenic and Castaviran,” Cederic said.
Radryntor narrowed her eyes at him. “By putting the welfare of Balaenic over Castaviran?” she said.
“I have always been even-handed in my treatment of both,” Cederic said, “and I look forward to the day when we no longer draw a distinction between either.”
“Balaen will never recognize you as its ruler,” Radryntor said, snarling now, “and you’re a fool if you think it will do you any good to crawl to them for their approval. It’s a slap in the face to all good Castavirans. We expect our Emperor to respect us.”
Cederic was totally impassive now. “As I demand respect from the people I govern,” he said, “beginning with those to whom I have delegated some measure of rule. You set the example, Lady Radryntor. I doubt the Pfulerrians will respect their Emperor if their consul feels entitled to refer to him as a fool.”
“You lack support throughout Castavir,” Radryntor said, “and that will continue so long as you insist on treating these foreigners as equals.”
“Do you suggest you withdraw that support?” Cederic said. I was sitting next to him, so I could see him curl his fist around the handle of his fork. An unlikely weapon, but I think he was just trying to maintain control.
“I suggest you should adhere to the oaths you swore to this people, if you want to maintain their trust,” Radryntor said.
Cederic stood up, slowly, and released his grip on the fork. “Daenen Radryntor,” he said in a level voice, “do you believe you should be Empress?”
That startled her. “Of course not,” she said.
“Then I wonder at your willingness to challenge me, the Emperor to whom you swore oath of fealty,” he said. “You are clinging to an impossible fantasy of Castavir as was. That country is no more. This is the reality, Daenen Radryntor, two countries locked together, overlapping and abutting one another, and I have decided what our united future will be. Your support is welcome. It is not essential. Choose to follow where I lead, or I will replace you as consul, because I will not allow someone so clearly hostile to my rule to continue in any position of power.”
He shoved his chair back and left the room, with the rest of us following as quickly as we could without looking as if we were fleeing. I got one last look at Radryntor as we left; her mouth was hanging open as if she’d just been savaged by a dog she’d thought was harmless.
Cederic led the way out of the consul’s palace without stopping. “Are we leaving?” I said. “Because I left some of my favorite clothes back there. And the mages are all having lunch.”
“I will send soldiers to collect our things and summon the rest of our people,” he said. “I should have challenged her days ago, but I hoped she would see sense.”
“At least it’s over,” I said. “No, wait—is it over? Because it’s not time to head west yet.”
“She has no military force to fight us,” he said. “And she knows I cannot replace her, not because I have no power but because I have no other candidate for the position. We will see what she does in the coming days. It is possible she will change her mind. But if she decides to cut off support to the military…”
“That could be a real problem, since the Pfulerrian citizens don’t have the power to stand up to our Army,” I finished, “and the Army has to eat.”
“I will make plans with General Tarallan, and we will wait and see,” Cederic said. “Will you see our tent erected so we will have a place to sleep when I finally come to bed sometime after midnight?”
“Do I have to be happy about the bed?” I said.
He shook his head. “If I could think of a graceful way to bring our bed from the palace, I would arrange it,” he said. Then he put his arms around me, and said, “Someday we will have a permanent home, and we will look back on the camp bed with fondness.”
“That’s never going to happen,” I said. He kissed me and we went our separate ways.
So I never did get back to the mages, because I had to find Roda and explain what had happened, and find someone to put up our tent, which meant finding a place for the tent…basically it was a lot of work, and now I’m tired enough I’m reluctant to put this away to find Cederic and drag him out of whatever meeting he’s in. But we’re not going to fall into that trap again.
25 Teretar
We’re teaching all the Balaenic mages the see-inside pouvra. I say “we” but it’s really me, because Jeddan is working with Terrael on the kathana. It was hard work, but boring.
Someone’s here to summon me to the command tent. I’m writing this because the soldier is clearly impatient to be elsewhere and I’m in just bad enough a mood I feel like annoying him. Though I’m curious about the summons.
25 Teretar, no idea when
I look back on the last thing I wrote and can’t believe I was so cavalier about it all. Not that I had any idea what (who) was waiting in the command tent, but it’s so—I can’t find a word to end that sentence.
I followed the impatient soldier—he really wanted to be somewhere else, and I could tell he was thinking something like “the Empress-Consort knows the way, why do I have to walk with her?” He was young enough it just amused me, that and I still don’t have a sense of my own importance that would let me be angry at his disrespect. When we came within sight of the command tent, he saluted and was gone as quickly as he could manage without being rude. I grinned and let the soldiers at the door hold the flap for me.
Cederic was there, and Mattiak, and a couple of soldiers flanking a man I never thought I’d see again: Caelan Crossar.
He looked awful. His hair was disheveled and his beard had grown out enough to be shaggy, and his clothes were filthy. He had a cut above his left eye that was almost healed but would certainly leave a scar. He looked like someone who’d slept rough for several weeks. Despite all that, he looked calm, even though the soldiers looked as if they thought he might be a threat and were ready to counter it.
“What is he doing here?” I said. Not my politest moment, but I was startled. It was hard reconciling this scruffy man with the powerful Chamber Lord who’d looked at me as if I were a tool.
“He has refused to speak until you were present,” Cederic said.
“Well, I’m here,” I said. Then I looked more closely at him, at the unnatural paleness of his skin and the almost imperceptible tic in his eye, and said, “I think we should all sit down.”
Crossar accepted the seat offered him graciously and with a hint of relief. He looked worn out, not that I cared much about his comfort. I don’t think my wariness was unjustified even if I didn’t know at the time what news he brought. I figured he was clever enough that this might all be a trap, that he had some way of suborning the Balaenic Army and making them turn on us, or that he might try to kill Cederic, or something. I know I’m overly suspicious, but it’s saved my life so many times I don’t feel apologetic.
Once we were all settled, Crossar said, “Thank you for your welcome,” in an ironic tone of voice that irritated me, as if we’d all come here at his sufferance.
“To my knowledge, you have done nothing in opposition to us,” Cederic said. “I choose to give you the benefit of the doubt.”
“Not that that’s going to extend very far,” I said, “because I personally don’t trust you to do anything except what benefits you.”
“I won’t deny I’m here out of self-interest,” Crossar said. “My life was in danger so long as I stayed in Venetry. I was two steps ahead of the hangman’s noose when I left.”
“Tell us what the usurper King and the former Empress have done,” Cederic said. “We know little more than that they are married and that the Chamber has been disbanded.”
Crossar clasped his hands together in his lap. “‘Disbanded’ is a polite word for it,” he said. “At first the new Queen didn’t interfere with the operation of the government, though she was made part of our Chamber meetings. Her presence made it impossible to challenge her to the King—that was definitely her intent. We had no way of getting him alone to convince him that he was acting against Balaen’s interests. She has him completely enthralled, to the point that he laughs off her moments of insanity or finds ways to justify them.”
“So you’ve seen her madness?” Mattiak said.
Crossar nodded. “Seen it, and been horrified by it. But she is just sane enough to hold onto her power. After a time, she was actively participating in our meetings. Then she was drafting laws. Jarlak Batekessar finally challenged her openly—he’s never been one to mince words. The King dismissed him from the meeting immediately, had him removed by the soldiers. The next day he was discovered dead at the bottom of a flight of stairs with a broken neck. The kind of broken neck, my sources told me, that could not have resulted from such a fall.
“The day after that, the King declared that rather than replace Batekessar, he would disband the Chamber in favor of a new organizational system that would allow both our countries equal representation. Then, no doubt influenced by his lovely bride, he ordered us confined to our manors so we would not be in a position to raise up public sentiment against him. I chose not to stay and wait for whatever accident the Queen might choose for me.”
“What about the others?” I said.
“I haven’t heard anything. Lenssar is such a toady he might actually survive by fawning over his King and Queen. I suspect Jakssar will find a way to escape as I did,” Crossar said.
“Why come here? Why not take shelter with one of the Lords Governor?” Cederic said. “You might have raised an opposition force that way.”
“The Lords Governor in the west have for the most part bent the knee to the new regime,” Crossar said. “Your—that is, the Castaviran Army—is powerful and none of the lords have forces that can stand up to its might. Those in the east…every one of them except Arron Domenessar is indecisive. They don’t have the will to defy the King alone, they can’t agree on a leader who will bring them together, and they are afraid of giving Arron power. Arron, of course, wants to be King. I knew him well when he first came to power and I’m certain he’s been trying to bring those indecisive lords under his banner. You are in danger of being overwhelmed by him. He wants the Balaenic Army. In particular, he wants Mattiak Tarallan at the head of his forces. If he can’t have that, he’ll destroy you.”
“Our forces are equal to his, Caelan,” Mattiak said. “He’s going to find it hard to overcome us.”
“Even if he fails to destroy you, he’ll inflict damages so great there’s no way you will be able to face down the Castaviran Army,” Crossar said. “You have no choice but to give him what he wants.”
“That will not happen,” Cederic said. “Our forces are sworn to protect Balaen and Castavir, not to allow one to dominate the other. If he persists, we will fight, we will decimate one another, and the Castaviran Army will find it easy to destroy us both. Domenessar needs to be convinced to ally with us.”
“And how do you intend to do that?” Crossar said.
“He is a reasonable man,” Cederic began, and Crossar laughed, a nasty sound that made me furious.
“If you just came here to mock us, you can get out now,” I said. “You’re so clearly capable of managing on your own. You’ve got no power, Crossar, no influence, nothing but a superior attitude and a really nasty personal odor. Get out. Go to Domenessar, if you’re so convinced he’s going to win. See if your charming personality matters to his plans.”
“You may be capable of winning the Castavirans to your cause,” Crossar said, exactly as if I hadn’t insulted him, “and that might be enough. But you need those armies, and to get those armies, you need Balaenic support. Or do you deny that, Emperor of nothing and nowhere?”
I opened my mouth to shout at him again, but Cederic made a gesture that shut me up (damn it, I really need to learn not to respond to that) and said, “That is the prelude to making me an offer. What is it you want, Caelan Crossar?”
“I’d heard you were intelligent, even though that accent makes you sound like a lazy fool,” Crossar said, smiling. “I can give you the Balaenic Lords Governor and the rest of the Balaenic Army.”
“In exchange for what?” Cederic said.
“Find out what he knows first,” I said.
“As if I’m fool enough to give away anything before I have his oath,” Crossar said to me. “I want Venetry,” he told Cederic. “And I don’t want any weak Lord Governorship. I don’t know how you’re going to divide up the country if you win, but unless you’re a fool you’ll put viceroys over the Lords Governors and the Castaviran—consuls, is it? This country is too big and too populous to have fifty little lordlings trying to govern their fiefs. You’ll make me viceroy in Venetry, and I’ll give you what you need to win this war.”
I grabbed Cederic’s arm. “Could we discuss this in private?” I said in a low voice, though I’m not sure why because Crossar was sitting right there and could hear me clearly.
Cederic glanced at Mattiak. “General Tarallan, would you escort Caelan Crossar to a place where he can clean himself up, and send someone to find him a change of clothing?” he said. Mattiak nodded, and he stood, followed shortly by Crossar, who made it look as if he were doing us a favor. As if he were the one in control. Much as I love and respect Cederic, I was afraid for him.
So once Crossar and Mattiak were gone, taking the soldiers with them, and I judged they were far enough away to be out of earshot, I said, still in a low voice because I’m paranoid, “Cederic, we can’t do that. We can’t give him Venetry.”
“I was unaware you were so attached to the city,” he said.
“Don’t make jokes,” I said. “Is he right about the way we’ll redistrict the country? Because he has a good point. We can’t have a million different people reporting to us all the time.”
“He is right,” Cederic said, “and whatever else his flaws may be, stupidity is not one of them. I have already considered the question of what to do with the largest city in our new country. Making it the center of, perhaps, one of four or five ‘kingdoms’ is sensible given both its size and its geographic location.”
“Which makes whoever rules it incredibly powerful,” I said. “Crossar’s dangerous, Cederic. He’s smart and he’s power-hungry. If we give him this, he’ll find a way to use it against us. We’ll end up fighting another war, probably when we’re too busy bringing this country together to have any defense against it.”
“You are correct that Caelan Crossar desires power,” Cederic said, “but I find it interesting that he has never moved against Garran Clendessar. As Chamber Lord of Defense, he has, or had, control of the Balaenic Army; he is General Tarallan’s friend, as far as a man like him has friends; and he is far more intelligent than Balaen’s King. He might have made himself King twenty years ago. I think if he were interested in moving against whoever wins this war, he would not have asked us for the direct power he would receive by ruling Venetry’s new district.”
“Unless he’s trying to trick us into lowering our guard,” I said. “I don’t trust him.”
“Neither do I,” Cederic said, “at least not in the way I trust, for example, Granea Amelessar. But I do trust him to act in his own best interests, and so long as I know what those interests are, I can predict how he will behave toward us.”
“What if whatever it is he knows is worthless?” I said. “Suppose you promise him all that and he’s lying?”
“Then he will receive nothing,” Cederic said. “I would never make a promise like this without stipulating his information must deliver on what he claims. He is the one taking a risk, Sesskia, because he cannot know whether I am honorable enough to fulfil my promise. I might easily take his information and then have him killed, as far as he knows anything of me.”
I sighed, and said, “I don’t like this.”
“To be honest, neither do I,” Cederic said, “but—” He drew me closer and lowered his voice. “I have no plan for swaying Arron Domenessar to our side,” he said. “He is stubborn and greedy and there is no benefit to him in joining us. We will return to Barrekel and take the Black and Brown Armies by force, if we cannot convince their leaders our cause is just. General Tarallan feels certain he can sway at least one of them, but no matter what happens, unless we are very lucky, we will come to blows with the Barrekellian forces. If Caelan Crossar has information that will bring Domenessar to our side…”
“I think he might be overly ambitious,” I said, “because I can’t imagine Domenessar bowing to anyone. He barely gave respect to the King, and then only because he had to.”
“We have to take this chance, Sesskia,” he said.
At that point the tent flap opened, and Crossar and Mattiak came back in, followed by Crossar’s guard. Crossar looked better, though his beard was still shaggy and his clothes didn’t fit quite right. He immediately went to his chair and sat without waiting for an invitation. “Have you made a decision?” he said.
Cederic and I both sat, me slowly as if daring Crossar to take offense at my rudeness. He ignored me in favor of watching Cederic, which annoyed me enough I almost wanted to tell Cederic to send him packing. Cederic, as calm as ever, said, “If your information proves as useful as you claim, you will be given what you ask. But I will not consider myself bound by that promise unless it brings Arron Domenessar to my banner.”
“It will,” Crossar said.
Cederic spread his hands in invitation for Crossar to speak. Crossar nodded, slowly. Then he looked at me. “I know your family name,” he said.
It felt like a blow to the chest. I’d been expecting…actually, I hadn’t been expecting anything, because I thought he was lying about having anything we could use. “But we lost our surname,” I said. “Just knowing it isn’t going to restore my family’s status, if Dad was stripped of power.”
“Your father did not legally lose his surname,” Crossar said. “He was forced to leave it behind, and may have chosen not to use it, but you are still entitled to it.”
“How is that supposed to matter?” I said. “Domenessar might respect me more if I’m noble, because he’s a snob, but he doesn’t defer to any of the other nobles and he certainly won’t defer to me, knowing my past.”
“It matters,” Crossar said, “because your father was Alenik Daressar.”
I think he was going for an awed or shocked reaction. What he got was Cederic’s polite incomprehension and me saying, “Am I supposed to be impressed by that?”
“Sesskia,” Mattiak said. I turned to look at him because he sounded choked. “Sesskia, Alenik Daressar nearly took the throne of Balaen twenty-six years ago.”
“He did not,” I said. Then I felt stupid. It was just—It’s still the only reaction I can summon up. My Dad, who never did anything in his life but go out on that boat and bring home his catch to keep us from starving—I knew he had a life before that, but not
He never acted like someone who might have ruled a kingdom. I mean, he never did anything to stand out, was always humble to that fat bastard he worked for before he could afford his own boat. I guess, based on what Crossar
I’m not thinking about that, because it makes me want to set Crossar on fire, anything to make him suffer, and there’s still a rational part of me that knows that’s wrong. So I’m just going to go on and tell this the way it happened, and save my anger for the right place.
So—right. I said, stupidly, “He did not.”
Mattiak said, “It was just as Garran Clendessar was coming to power. Everyone knew he was the weakest of the Clendessar family, and there was a lot of unrest. And Daressar saw an opportunity. He had a lot of quiet support among the families in Venetry. I guess—I was young then, but Venetry was in turmoil and we all knew there was conflict centered on the throne. And then Daressar’s support collapsed, no one knew why, he and his family disappeared, and the King acted as if his rule had never been challenged. He went out of his way to make sure anyone who even talked about Daressar suffered. So people just…stopped talking about him. But no one’s ever forgotten the man who nearly ruled Balaen. In the last, I’m not sure, maybe five years, his name has started coming up again as Garran Clendessar’s rule became harsher and more erratic.”
“That’s insane,” I said. “I’ve never heard anything like that.”
“You wouldn’t have,” Crossar said. “Only those at the highest levels of government even whisper about it. The missing Alenik Daressar and his family. Everyone believes the King had them killed, but a lot of the Lords Governor would love to be proven wrong on that.”
I was still gaping at him. “Cederic,” I said, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted from him. Reassurance? For him to punch Crossar for making up this story?
“I think he is telling the truth,” Cederic said. “He stands to lose too much if his story is disproven.”
“I think he ought to have some proof other than just his say-so,” I said. “Do I have some kind of distinctive birthmark? Not that I’d be thrilled if you knew about it, if I did.”
“I can name five men and one woman, all Lords Governor past or present, who were witness at your sanctification before the true God when you were five days old,” Crossar said. “They know that Alenik’s second daughter was born with those green-gray eyes. You were given the name Sesskia on that day. And you are the very image of Cessily Daressar, your mother. She was the premier hostess in Venetry and there is a painting of her in Iyannka Manor; it was spared Clendessar’s purge because your grandmother hid it.”
I was shaking, because an awful feeling had started to come over me. “You’re not my grandfather,” I said.
He shook his head. “No. Your grandparents passed away years ago. You—and presumably your sister and your mother—are all that’s left of the Daressars.”
“And yet you know all of this,” I said. “Tell me why.”
“You already know,” he said.
I leaped out of my chair and flung myself at him, knocking him over and landing hard on his chest, and got my hands around his throat. “You betrayed him!” I screamed, shaking him hard as he clawed at my hands. “You’re the reason his plan failed! You’re why we had to hide—why we lived in poverty—damn you, it’s your fault he died!”
Cederic took me by the arms and pulled me off Crossar. I fought him, but his grip was too strong, and eventually I let him lead me back to my seat. Mattiak helped Crossar up, but the former Chamber Lord remained standing. “I did betray him,” he said, hoarsely. “I wanted to rule Balaen behind the scenes. Alenik Daressar would never have allowed me to manipulate him, and I saw in Clendessar an opportunity to control the Chamber. So I sent word of his attempted coup to those who could stop it. Then I helped him escape Venetry, and buried his trail so no one would find him or his family. I saved your life.”
“You expect me to be grateful?” I shouted, trying to leap out of my chair again and being once again restrained by Cederic. “Dad died in a fishing accident—he would never have been there if not for you. Mam drank herself to death because she couldn’t stand the loss of our wealth and status. Bridie—” I choked. “She’d have lived if we could have afforded real doctors. What you did nearly destroyed my family. How dare you stand there and suggest you did anything for us?”
“That coup might have killed you anyway,” Crossar said. “If Daressar had attacked and failed, Clendessar’s men wouldn’t have been merciful just because you were barely able to talk. And suppose he’d succeeded, and become King? By your account, yours was the magic that brought our worlds together safely. If you had been nothing but a princess, our worlds would be destroyed now. I don’t expect you to love me for what I did, and I don’t regret my actions. But, your Majesty, your life would look very different now if your father had succeeded…and you can’t guarantee it would have been better.”
I stopped fighting Cederic long enough for him to relax his grip. Then, once his attention was on Crossar again, I stood up and ran out of the tent. I came straight back here to write this all down, hoping it would calm me. It did, a little, but now I feel adrift, out to sea without rudder or sail and having no land to set my sights on.
Crossar’s telling the truth, I’m certain of that. My being a Daressar suits his agenda or he’d have gone on never telling anyone who I was. But it doesn’t change anything about my life. Though it makes sense why Dad was always so quiet and easy-going; he couldn’t afford to give anyone a hint that he’d been something other than a fisherman once. And Mam…I still blame her for a lot of things, for her weaknesses and her inability to support us, but I feel sorry for her now, too, because she couldn’t possibly have been ready for the kind of life Crossar’s treachery threw us into.
The thing is, I may have the name, but there’s nothing noble about my upbringing. Everything I’ve learned about being a leader, what little there is, came from working with the mages and watching Cederic. I doubt Domenessar is going to drop to his knees no matter who my father was. He’ll believe I’m not qualified to sit on the throne, and he’ll still go to war against us. So I’ve learned all of this, and Crossar will get nothing, because Domenessar won’t become our ally. Good. I hope he gets nothing. I hope he has to bury himself in a tiny town where he’ll have to scrounge a living like we did. That would be justice. Not that there’s really anything in the world I’d accept as balancing the kind of life I had to live because of him.
I’m trying to decide if I should go back to the command tent. On the one hand, I think if I see Crossar again, I might attack him, this time with fire. On the other hand, I’m the Empress-Consort and it’s my responsibility to know our plans with regard to ruling the Empire. I’m going to sit here and think about it for a while, then make a decision. I’m glad Cederic didn’t come after me. He always seems to know when I need to be alone.