Rudolfo paced the plush carpet of his private study and replayed the evening’s events behind his eyes. He and his men had been taken unawares by a threat he’d not conceived of in his wildest imaginings, and that reality fed his wrath. The faintest traces of their attackers’ magicked blood faded on his uniform now, smudges that seemed more like shadows next to the darker patches that belonged to Hanric, Ansylus and their men.
He paced the room and stroked his beard alone, waiting for the boy and for the girl who now had the weight of grief upon her alongside a difficult decision.
No matter what she chooses, it will go hard for her. There was no way around that truth. But whatever she chose, Rudolfo would keep his kin-clave with the Marsh girl-the Marsh Queen-and would extend his support of her.
She and her people kept the secret well. Rudolfo and Gregoric had known. And certainly, the boy Neb. Beyond that, the Named Lands would all believe the Marshers were without a king.
The unrest may prove a blessing to her yet, he thought. With all eyes on the fires in the south, few would care that the Marshers’ Wicker Throne seemed suddenly vacant. Still it would be a challenge for her at such a young age, though she was older than Rudolfo had been. And she had the added benefit of being from a people who were despised, feared, avoided, misunderstood-vastly more so than Rudolfo’s Forest Gypsies.
But what of Turam? The Crown Prince’s father had lain at death’s door for nigh on a decade, his life preserved by Androfrancine medicines no longer in easy supply. Ansylus had functioned as his proxy, and now that nation would be at profound risk to forces within or without. Rudolfo dug deep into memory but could not recall the name of the younger brother, though it mattered little-the boy had been killed at the Battle of Rachyle’s Bridge during the War for Windwir. There was an uncle, however. Turam just barely balanced itself against the tide of insurrection that swept the Named Lands with the Androfrancine Order’s collapse. This news could tip the scale.
And why now? Why his house? And, darker still, why not him? Two of the three most influential men in the room had fallen, and one had been left entirely unharmed. An uneasiness gripped him and would not let him go. When the dust settled from this tonight, he would seek counsel with his betrothed, Jin Li Tam.
He’d looked for her in the crowd that had gathered outside the Great Hall. She had been noticeably absent, and he doubted that the River Woman’s admonitions of bed rest had truly trumped her curiosity. He’d meant to ask after her or to check in on her, but the whirlwind of orders to give, people to direct, investigations to launch had caught him up and carried him until this moment.
He looked up at the knock on his door. “Yes?”
It opened a crack and Neb looked in. “I have Lady Winters with me, General.”
Rudolfo smoothed his uniform by habit. “Send her in.” His eyes narrowed and he studied Neb’s face, reading what he could there in the redness of the eyes and the pallor of his skin. When Neb met his gaze, Rudolfo’s hands moved quickly. Find Aedric. Tell him to bring me an update. When Neb nodded his understanding, Rudolfo continued. And check on Lady Tam. Tell her I will brief her when I can.
Neb nodded again. The young man held open the door, and Winters stepped through. Then it closed behind her.
The look on the girl’s face stopped Rudolfo’s pacing. She looked smaller than she had earlier today, her eyes red and hollow, her mouth drawn tight with grief. There were pale track marks from the tears that had scrubbed away the ash and mud of her people’s lament.
Rudolfo waved to a small sofa by a banked fire. “Please sit with me,” he said. She moved slowly and sat, folding her hands in her lap. He joined her. “Neb has told you, then?”
She glanced up, then dropped her eyes and nodded. “He has. And I have told my people.” She swallowed. “At least those who are here. I’ve instructed them to find a bird and pass the word home to Hanric’s kin.”
Rudolfo’s eyebrows raised. “Do you think that prudent so soon after?”
She stared at him. “Prudence does not enter into matters where love is concerned.”
Rudolfo smiled, then signed to her in the House language of Xhum Y’Zir. Prudence especially enters into matters where love is concerned. “Your life has changed, Lady. You may need to think in different directions now.” He remembered those early days, the days when Aerynus, Gregoric’s father, had briefed him secretly so that Rudolfo might command with experience beyond his years. And he remembered the first man he’d ordered beneath the salted knives of the Physicians his father left to him. Their penitent torture was a knife he chose not to pass forward to his own son. But they had served their purpose, even if the redemption they drew out in blood was not true penitence. The single insurrection in the Ninefold Forest Houses-the event that had cost Lord Jakob and Lady Marielle their lives-was met by young Rudolfo with ruthless, merciless atonement.
She swallowed at his words and nodded.
He looked at her, small and frightened, and saw himself so many years ago. He leaned toward her. “You have my kin-clave, Lady Winters. The Ninefold Forest Houses will plumb this treachery. You have my assurance of assistance in all matters.”
Her eyes met his. “I am grateful, Lord.”
Rudolfo reached for the bottle of firespice on the table and raised his eyebrows toward an empty glass. “What will you do?”
Winters nodded, and Rudolfo poured a small portion of the liquor for her. “I will declare myself,” she said. “It’s early, but perhaps it’s supposed to be.” She looked perplexed now, her eyebrows furrowing. “Only. ” Her words trailed off, and she reached out for the glass, lifting it to her lips and sipping. She looked up again. “I did not see this in my dreams.”
Rudolfo poured himself a drink. “How could you?”
Winters shrugged. “I saw Neb in my dreams. I saw Windwir fall. Neb and I have seen our promised home. And many of our Dreaming Kings have seen these days, too, and written them in their Book.”
“Perhaps,” Rudolfo suggested, “these dreams are not always reliable.”
“And yet,” Winters answered, “the moment before we went into Third Alarm a premonition took hold of me.” Rudolfo leaned forward as she quickly recounted it.
“A wind of blood?” he asked. He whistled and the door opened. A Gypsy Scout poked his head in. Find out what manner of blades the assassins carried, he signed. The scout nodded and closed the door. He looked to Winters. “I’m not given to superstition, but this bears inquiry. I will ask Isaak to look into it. Perhaps it is something referenced in the library’s holdings.”
A night of inquiries, he thought. He still had the matter at the Keeper’s Gate to resolve.
There was a knock at the door-this time, firmer. Rudolfo looked up. “Yes?”
Aedric stepped into the room. “I saw Neb on the landing. I’ve sent him to pack for tomorrow.”
Winters looked up at this, and Rudolfo noticed the surprise on her face. It alarms her that he is leaving. But of course, Rudolfo knew she would not ask where he went.
“I do not think I will be joining you,” Rudolfo said. “I’m needed here.”
Aedric nodded, closing the door. He looked to the girl now, as if seeing her for the first time. The First Captain looked surprised and then suddenly uncomfortable. You may wish to hear this news alone, he signed.
Rudolfo saw Winters following his hands, but saw no comprehension on her face. “You truly meant what you told me?” he asked her. That you mean to announce yourself? he added in the Wizard King’s sign.
“Yes, Lord,” she said in a quiet voice.
Rudolfo motioned to a chair across from them. “Sit, Aedric, and pour a drink.” He inclined his head toward the girl. “Things are not what they seem.”
Aedric sat and poured firespice into a cup. “They are not, indeed,” he said.
Rudolfo nodded. “This is Winters,” he said.
“Yes, our young lieutenant is quite taken with her.”
“Well, she is more than she appears. May I present Winteria bat Mardic, the Marsh Queen.” Rudolfo offered a tight smile as Aedric’s eyebrows shot up. “Hanric was her. ” Rudolfo reached for the word but couldn’t find it.
“Shadow,” Winters said, her voice heavy. “He was the image we needed to convey to the rest of the Named Lands until I reached my majority.”
Aedric paled, looked to Rudolfo, then back to the girl. He looked troubled.
“What is it, Aedric?”
Aedric looked away. “We are in pursuit of the attackers. The Gypsy Scouts are magicked and trailing them at a distance. Half-squads are searching every structure in the town and every room in the manor. And the River Woman is here to tend Lady Tam. When she’s finished, she will autopsy the dead assassin and look for traces of the magicks in his organs.”
Rudolfo nodded. “Summon the Chief Physician for the cutting.”
Aedric inclined his head. “I’ve done so already, General.”
Winters interjected here. “Where is Hanric?”
Aedric glanced to Rudolfo and he nodded his assent. “He lays where he fell. We did not wish to offend your custom.”