"No," Grinsa said. "Her love of the child is more powerful than her rage at me."

"But were it not for the child, how far do you think her anger would take her?"

"Your Majesty?"

Kearney looked away. "It's a foolish question. Forget I asked it."

"I believe, Your Majesty, that love doesn't merely vanish to be replaced by hatred. Cresenne tried to have me killed, and though I cursed her name a thousand times for doing so, I've never stopped loving her. I wish I could. I would have been happy never to see her again. But not because I don't still want her. And child or none, I would do anything to keep her safe. As you say, love complicates matters. Just as I still love her, I believe in some small way she still loves me, though she denies that she ever did. We're tied to each other, and I expect we always will be. Such is the nature of Adriel's gift."

The Qirsi talked only of his love for Cresenne, yet it was clear to Tavis that he was speaking to the king's pain at losing Keziah.

Perhaps Kearney recognized this as well, for he stared at Grinsa for some time before finally nodding, and saying, "You may well be right, gleaner." He paused briefly, looking uneasily at Tavis and Gershon. "You've known her longer than any of us. Do you believe she's capable of betraying the land?"

"Of whom do you speak, Your Majesty?"

Kearney's face shaded scarlet. "Forgive me. I speak of Keziah, my archminister."

The king couldn't have known how difficult a question he had asked. Grinsa and Tavis knew of the archminister's attempt to join the conspiracya"the gleaner had told Tavis something of what she had done to convince those in the king's court that her loyalties to Kearney had grown tenuous. Indeed, Tavis gathered that the only other person who knew her true intentions was the swordmaster, meaning that in this chamber, Kearney was the one person who didn't understand that Keziah was risking her life to defeat the conspiracy. Grinsa would never have called his sister a traitor, even though she might have wanted Kearney to believe she was capable of such treachery. But neither could he defend her as fervently as he probably would have liked.

"Your Majesty," Gershon said quickly. "I don't believe it's wise to speak of such things in the presence of men from another house."

"It's all right, Gershon. Under the law, Tavis is of Glyndwr still, and will be until he no longer requires the protection we've offered him. And the gleaner has known the archminister since she was a child."

The swordmaster frowned, casting a quick look at Grinsa. To Tavis's amazement, the gleaner winked at the man in such a way that the king couldn't see. Gershon's mouth dropped open for just an instant. Then he recovered, looking sidelong at the king.

"I've known Keziah for many years, Your Majesty," the gleaner said slowly. "And though we seldom see each other anymore, we still understand each other quite well. But I'm afraid I can't speak to her feelings about the conspiracy. Even those of us who would give our lives fighting against it have sympathy for the cause. There are those among our people who have suffered greatly under Eandi rule. Do I think Keziah will betray you? No, I don't. Am I certain of this? No, I'm afraid I'm not."

The king eyed him a moment longer, tight-lipped and pale. "Thank you, gleaner. I'm grateful for your honesty."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

Kearney stood and walked back to his writing table. As he did, Gershon looked at the gleaner again and nodded once.

"You've been quiet through all of this, Lord Tavis," the king said. "What do you think of this woman who holds your life in her hands?"

Tavis shrugged, abruptly feeling uncomfortable under the gazes of these three men. "I think she's fortunate that Grinsa is as wise and forgiving as he is, Your Majesty. And I fear that even the threat of having her child taken from her won't persuade a woman with such a black heart to tell the truth."

Kearney frowned. "I certainly hope you're wrong."

"As do I, Your Majesty. But since this ordeal began, I've thought on several occasions that my salvation was at hand, only to have my hopes dashed. I find that hope doesn't come easily anymore."

"You're terribly young to have such a grim view of the world."

I haven't been young since Aindreas threw me in his dungeon. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Perhaps this woman will surprise you, Lord Tavis. The love of a mother for her child can be quite powerful. I believe that's a lesson your own mother taught Aindreas at the Battle of the Heneagh just a few turns ago."

Tavis had to smile, remembering the sight of his mother in full battle garb, riding toward him as the armies of Curgh and Kentigern did battle on the broad plain west of the Heneagh River. "I pray that you're right, Your Majesty."

There was a knock at the door, and all of them turned at the sound.

"Come," the king called.

The door opened, revealing the two Qirsi women standing side by side. Cresenne looked small, though she was nearly the same height as the archminister. She still held her baby close, and her face was so white that Tavis wondered for a moment if she was ill.

But Keziah was smiling, a hand resting lightly on the other woman's shoulder, and she whispered something to her.

Cresenne stepped into the chamber, the archminister following.

"We're sorry to have kept you waiting, Your Majesty," Keziah said. "Please sit, all of you. Cresenne has much to tell you."

CHAPTER.

Nine.

Orvinti, Aneira, Elhir's Moon waning.

The arguments with Evanthya began almost as soon as Numar left his castle, forcing Tebeo to wonder what had passed between his first minister and the regent's Qirsi during their conversation in the gardens of Castle Dantrielle. He asked the minister about it, but of course she told him nothing, saying only that she and the archminister had spoken of the coming war. Tebeo didn't believe her. He had long been opposed to engaging the Eibitharians in battle; without going so far as to advocate war, Evanthya had often made clear her belief that a war, properly fought, could benefit the kingdom.

But abruptly they had reversed roles. After his disastrous encounter with the regent, Tebeo felt that he had little choice but to support Numar in whatever course the regent followed. He had come dangerously close to making an enemy of the man during the Solkaran's visit. He risked being hanged as a traitor if he even spoke against the war again, much less withheld Dantrielle's army from the effort as Evanthya now counseled.

Back and forth they went for the entire day after Numar's departure and into the night. Their debate took them nowhere, and when Evanthya finally left him as the midnight bells tolled in the city, Tebeo was exhausted, but too frustrated to sleep. He avoided her the next day, even going so far as to deny her entry to his chamber when she came to speak with him.

During the course of that morning it occurred to him that Pronjed may have prevailed upon her to argue as she now did. At the time of Carden's death, Brall and his first minister had speculated that the archminister was a traitor who had the power to control people's minds. Tebeo knew far less of Qirsi magic than he should have, since he relied on Qirsi ministers for counsel nearly every day, but he knew enough to suspect that the first minister had fallen victim to one of her own. That was the only explanation that made any sense to him.

He said as much to her the following day when they resumed their dialogue. Naturally she denied it, and the more she made her case, the more the duke wavered. It didn't help that he continued to question the wisdom of this war, or that he disliked Braedon's emperor, or even that he was, at heart, a man of peace. But there was one other factor that he could not ignore, one that lent great strength to Evanthya's argument.

Numar frightened him, perhaps not as much as Carden had or Grigor would have had he lived, but enough. He had the full force of the royal army behind him and if he chose to turn its might on Dantrielle the dukedom would be crushed in a matter of days. But it wasn't just the power of Solkara's army that frightened the duke. Numar, it seemed, was both more and less than he had appeared to be when Aneira's dukes chose him as regent for Kalyi, the young queen. Tebeo, Brall, and many of the others had thought him a benign alternative to his older brother, intelligent enough to lead the kingdom until Kalyi was of Fating age, but lacking his brother's ambition. Having faced his wrath, however, having heard him speak of war and the growing alliance with Braedon, Tebeo realized that he and his fellow dukes had seen only what they wanted to see. The regent was keenly intelligent, far more so even than Carden had been, and the duke feared that Numar harbored dark ambitions for Aneira and for himself.

The more Tebeo and his first minister spoke of the regent and his war, the more uncertain the duke grew, until he found himself advocating points of view with which he did not agree.

Evanthya, who knew him too well, seemed to sense her advantage, for after a time, she began to smile. When Tebeo stated that Aneira's alliance with Braedon outweighed all other concerns, even his desire for peace, she actually laughed.

"Forgive me, my lord," she said, shaking her head. "But I know that you don't truly believe that, not unless you received word during the night that Harel has died and been replaced by a new emperor."

He winced. "You shouldn't jest about such things, First Minister."

"My apologies, my lord. But the fact remains that you think Harel a poor leader and a dangerous ally for the kingdom. You've said as much to me several times in the past."

"You're right, I have. And I suppose I still feel that way."

"Then why do you argue as you do?"

"Because I have no desire to stand alone against Numar. As it is, after what I said to him while he was here, I'm fortunate that he's a generous man. He could easily have taken offense and he might still decide to punish Dantrielle for my impudence. I can't risk angering him further."

The minister regarded him in silence briefly, her brow furrowed, as if she were struggling with something. Then, appearing to come to a decision, she asked, "What if you didn't have to stand against him alone?"

"What?"

She licked her lips. "When I spoke with the archminister, he asked me if I thought you could prevail upon the southern houses to support the war if they proved reluctant."

He gaped at her, not quite believing that Pronjed would think to ask her such a question. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

She lowered her gaze. "I was afraid to, my lord. Just as you fear Numar, I fear the archminister. Fetnalla and Lord Orvinti suspect that he may be a traitor, that he may even have used mind-bending magic to kill the king. If he learned that I had revealed to you anything of our conversation, he . . . he might seek to do me harm."

"How?" Tebeo asked, eyes narrowing. "Do you think he'd try to kill you?"

"Not directly, my lord. But he might accuse me of treason. These are difficult days for Qirsi and Eandi alike. It requires only a well-placed word to destroy the reputation of a minister."

The duke nodded. That much at least he could understand. "Do you think he expects the southern houses to resist the war?"

"He told me he was merely preparing himself for all possibilities. But I don't think he would have asked the question unless he thought it likely." She hesitated, her bright gaze dropping once more. "He asked as well if I thought you would resist"

"That doesn't surprise me at all, not after my conversation with Numar."

"Yes, my lord."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him that I thought you would send however many men Numar requested, that you were Aneiran before all else."

It was the only proper response she could have given, but still he was relieved. "Thank you. And what about his other question? How did you answer that?"

"I wasn't certain what to say, my lord. I told him that you were not as close to the new dukes in Tounstrel and Noltierre as you had been to their fathers, and that you didn't have as much influence with them as the question implied."

Tebeo frowned. "Frankly, First Minister, that's more of an answer than such a question deserved."

"Yes, my lord."

"Still, it's close enough to the truth, and it doesn't give Numar much hope that I can act on his behalf if Vistaan and Bertin the Younger refuse to comply. Under the circumstances, things could be far worse."

"Thank you, my lord." She opened her mouth to say more, then stopped herself, taking a breath and playing absently with the satin edge of her robe.

"Out with it, Evanthya. If there's more to your conversation with Pronjed I'd best know it now."

Still she paused, seeming to search for the correct words. "I'm not entirely certain that he was asking these questions on the regent's behalf, my lord."

He had thought that nothing more could surprise him, that between Numar's unexpected visit and the archminister's blunt questioning of his first minister he had been inured to shock. But this was too much. "Explain."

"He told me that he didn't think the regent trusted him and that Numar only brought him to Dantrielle and the other dukedoms because he didn't trust the minister enough to leave him alone in Solkara."

"Do you think the regent fears for the queen?"

She shook her head, playing now with a strand of white hair. "No, I think he fears Chofya and Pronjed's ties to her."

At that the duke felt a surge of hope. "Did Pronjed indicate that he still remained loyal to her?"

"Not really, my lord. He told me that he was asking me these other questions on no one's behalf, but rather as one Qirsi to another."

Just as quickly, the duke's hope vanished to be replaced by a feeling of coldest, deepest dread. "What does that mean? Do you think he's with the conspiracy?"

"I think it's possible. It's also possible that he thinks I am, and that he hoped to determine this for certain."

"Why would he think you were a traitor?" He tried to keep his tone neutral, but he could see from the way she regarded him that he had failed.

"You of all people should know the answer to that, my lord." She gave a sad smile. "With all that's happened in Aneira and throughout the Forelands, all Qirsi are suspect. Traitors seem to lurk in every corner, be it in Solkara, or Orvinti, or here, in Dantrielle."

Tebeo nodded again, but said nothing.

"I've told you this before, my lord, and I'll say it again. I have not betrayed you, nor do I intend to. But I believe this war must be stopped before it begins. It will bring ruin to the realm, perhaps to all the Forelands."

"Do you know this? Have you gleaned something?"

Evanthya shook her head. "No, my lord. This is my opinion, it's not prophecy."

He almost wished it had been a vision. A part of him felt just as his first minister did. But Dantrielle would fare no better if her duke was labeled a traitor and her castle besieged by the royal army. At least in this war, his people might have a chance to prove their mettle or die loyal subjects of the kingdom. The alternative was unthinkable.

"I share your fears, Evanthya. You know I do. But you're asking me to exchange one war for another. If I defy House Solkara it will put us on a path to civil war, a hopeless war at that, and one that will be no less ruinous for the kingdom than this alliance with the empire." He shook his head. "I can't do it."

"You could at least speak with Lord Orvinti, my lord."

"To what end? The regent told us that Brall supports this war."

"Of course he did, my lord. What else would he say? But what if Lord Orvinti feels as we do, and only said what he did to avoid angering Numar? What if Bertin the Younger and Vistaan of Tounstrel do the same? The dukes chose Numar over Henthas because they didn't want a kingdom governed by fear and the threat of violence. Yet isn't that what we have?"

"Numar isn't Henthas!" the duke said, flinging the words at her like a blade.

Evanthya looked away. "No, my lord."

She didn't deserve his anger. As with so many things, she was right about this. He feared the coming war, but had been compelled to pledge his support by a regent he feared even more. And Dantrielle was one of Aneira's stronger houses. If Numar could force his compliance, couldn't he do the same to the dukes of Kett and Noltierre, Rassor and Tounstrel?

"Have you received word from Fetnalla since the regent's visit?" he asked. "Do you have any reason to believe that she and Brall have similar doubts?"

"I've heard nothing, my lord. For all I know, the regent was correct in saying that he had Lord Orvinti's support. But if I may be so bold, even if Lord Orvinti is in favor of this war, as you seem to be, it strikes me that you would benefit from such assurances right now."

"I probably would. But assurances can be conveyed by messenger. If we're to discuss defying the regent, we'd best do so in Orvinti."

Evanthya met his gaze again, her bright yellow eyes dancing like torch fire. It took the duke a moment to remember that she and Brall's first minister were lovers. A journey to Orvinti meant more to her than just an opportunity to press her argument again.

"Then we're going?" she asked.

"Yes. But hear this, First Minister: if Brall truly supports the war, this is over. There will be no correspondence with Noltierre or Tounstrel on the matter."