Chapter Twelve
AN ACTUAL STAIRWAY was cut into the curtain wall, allowing them to easily climb down. Ama’s wry scowl had deepened into a very unhappy frown when Thris led them to it, only about a hundred yards from where they had tried to climb down with ropes. Apparently, everything Ama had learned about this fortress was only what Thris had allowed him. For a spy as competent as Braxton said Ama was, that had to rankle.
Thris pointed at the flagstone courtyard. “Wait there, please. Captain, and our two princes, if you would follow me?” He waited for Grall to join Braxton and Caro while the Naminese soldiers surrounded the rest of their small band as they went to stand in the middle of the fighting circle. Thris went into the barracks building, the rest of them following behind.
The inside was as rough and unfinished as the outside, but the office Thris led them into had a door and, inside, a long table with four chairs. He sat in one chair and waved for them to sit in the remaining three. The two Naminese soldiers guarding them took up places inside the door, which was closed.
“You didn’t take our weapons,” Grall growled out, his scowl fierce, but there was a curious edge to it that matched Caro’s own swirling thoughts. The three of them were still armed, hadn’t been searched, and hadn’t been restrained or detained in anything more than a mostly ceremonial way. Yes, they were outnumbered, but Thris knew that wouldn’t stop them from fighting should an opportunity arise.
“There is little reason to,” Thris replied with an easy shrug. “There is very little reason to relieve Prince—” He paused to study Braxton’s face. “—Braxton, I believe, although you could be Fenwick, of his weapons. He will simply conjure more when you need them. Prince Clament only has rudimentary skills with weapons. You, Captain, I suspect are highly qualified, but you also know if you attack me now you endanger the two princes you have sworn to protect. I prefer not to waste our time with such frivolity. Don’t you agree, Prince…”
“Braxton,” Braxton said. “And I suspect you know exactly where Fen is right now. You want us here for something, so stop playing games.”
Thris’s genial smile vanished, replaced by a more serious look. He rested his elbows on the table, steepled his fingers together, and rested his chin on top.
“I suspect you already know this, Prince Clament, but your father and brother are…” He paused to search for the right word, grimacing.
“They don’t think, they act, and they rely entirely on their magic to protect themselves should something go wrong,” Caro filled in easily, fully aware of how asinine his family could be. “And I go by Caro now.”
Thris nodded. “Since you found this fortress, I assume you know why Namin sent us here. We’re to prepare to attack Toval, and it’s a way to distract the army from planning a coup.”
Braxton snorted. “Sounds like the distraction isn’t working.”
“Oh it’s not, I assure you.” Thris’s smile was angelic and his eyes twinkled with mischief. “Namin has been so kind to build us this stronghold in which we’re protected from Namin’s provocations.” His mien turned more serious. “We’re smuggling as many dissidents from the military out here as we can, and we’re hoping the barracks will be fully habitable by winter. We’re putting stores away from hunting and some gathering of nature’s bounty out here, but it’s going to be tight. Still, it’s better than waiting to fall through ice on the pond, or to slide off a slippery tower, which is what we would all be waiting for if we stayed in Svental.” He sighed. “Our plan was to amass numbers and wait through the winter, during which the rest of our citizens will have endured hunger and freezing temperatures for months, compounded with the knowledge that nothing will change in the spring because we have nothing to plant. When we attack then, we’ll have full support.”
“But you want to attack sooner,” Braxton added, his eyes narrowed as he studied Thris.
Thris nodded, then stopped and shook his head instead. “Hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent people are going to die this winter because of the gross mismanagement of our so-called leaders. At least if we took over now, we could try to mitigate that. But we don’t have the numbers to be successful right now and…” He let out another heavy sigh as he trailed off, shaking his head again.
Caro frowned. “And you don’t have another ruler to instate in the king’s place.”
“Exactly.”
Thris glanced at Caro and quickly looked away, but Caro could read between the lines even without that look. He was the bastard child and the family whipping boy. Yes, he had the royal magic, but none of the nobles whose support Caro would need as king would ever agree to stand behind him. The coup plotters needed someone else to take the throne after the coup.
Royal families all had their version of the golden-colored magic. Braxton’s family could summon weapons. Caro’s had the sight. Yaroi could shift into an animal form. If Namin put a king or queen on the throne without golden magic, none of the other countries would agree to trade with them, seeing them as weak. Namin would get cut off completely from the rest of the world and be in worse condition than they were now. They needed to find someone of royal Naminese blood, but that too wasn’t enough. The magic was only passed down by wielders. Should Caro have children, they could be born with the magic. Caro’s sister only had the barest drop of it in her; she didn’t have enough power to hold the throne, and it was doubtful her future kids would be any stronger. Thris had to find another bastard like Caro, a child of King Cyphus or Prince Cadell, the only other two who could pass the power down, and then put them on the throne.
A thorny issue without an answer. Caro rubbed his fingers across his forehead, hoping to stave off the budding headache he could feel building, and then rubbed downward over his nose so he could rest his chin on his palm. But…his fingers stopped on his nose as an idea came to him.
“If numbers are an issue, the majority of the Tovalian army should arrive by this evening,” Braxton was saying as Caro slowly dropped his hand into his lap. “If it means removing the constant threat on our border from Namin, we would be happy to aid in deposing your king. I don’t know if I can help with finding you a new one though.”
“Ask Ama,” Caro blurted out, then clamped his mouth shut.
Thris only looked at Caro curiously, but the way Braxton’s face went blank said maybe he did know the truth about Ama. Or at least he suspected. Whether Ama actually knew anyone in his family with the golden power who might qualify was a question, but there was a chance.
“I’ll ask,” Braxton replied before turning back to Thris. “Either way, King Cyphus cannot remain on the throne. Your people will be so grateful to have the food and grain Toval will lend you this winter; they won’t mind the regent you appoint doesn’t have golden magic. That will give you at least a year or two to find someone before the international community starts to take note. We can hash out the finer details when Fen arrives.”
Thris nodded slowly as his frown smoothed. “Right. We will definitely ask for Prince Fenwick’s opinion, but I believe it’s fair to say we have the beginnings of a plan. I will send word to my operatives in the city to expect our arrival. Which only leaves the thorny issue of how to get close enough to the king and prince fast enough that their magic won’t have time to warn them.”
There were no doubts or worries about betraying his birth family in Caro’s mind as he opened his mouth and said, “I can help with that.”