Chapter 70 #2
“If you kill me, I can’t help you,” Gaeren said, maintaining an easy smile even as his heart beat faster and he dropped his hand. Riveran had made it sound like these men had wanted the meeting. Had something gone wrong?
“What? Just because his oldest friend and an old man trusts him doesn’t mean I have to.” Smits snarled the words at his friend, but Gaeren flinched as he felt the barb.
“Riveran told me about a Smits,” Gaeren said. “Said he would be the hardest to convince, which makes me like you.”
The man chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re still an Elanesse, and that makes me dislike you.”
Gaeren raised an eyebrow. “I expected you to hate me. If you merely dislike me, we’ve already moved a step in the right direction.”
“What do you possibly have to gain from working with us?” Smits asked.
“Freedom.” Gaeren swept his hands out to encompass the whole room. Not that the men in this room were a good example of freedom. “You all feel enslaved by my family, but I have no more freedom than you.”
Smits scoffed, but the second man, who still hadn’t given his name, shifted uneasily.
“They forced me to bond at a young age,” Gaeren went on. “Something I now see as one step lower than slavery when it’s done without consent. Freeing both myself and my bondmate helped me understand that.” He held up his palm, hoping the dim light would be enough to show off his ugly scar.
The second stranger sucked in a breath, and Smits leaned forward, letting out a hum that gave Gaeren fortitude to go on.
“For the past several moons, I’ve been working with Sylmar and Velden, who can vouch for my support of the Recreants. I fought alongside them against Mayvus in the Myndren Mountains, something my parents only approved of when they realized they were on the losing side.”
“I won’t kill you, then,” Smits offered. “Doesn’t mean I’m willing to work with you.”
“He has a plan,” Riveran said. “Something that requires help from the inside. Help that only he can give.” His pointed gaze rested on the second stranger, making Gaeren more wary. Who was that man?
Smits leaned forward, giving Gaeren his first full glimpse of the Recreant’s face. Deep, ugly lines pulled his brow into a frown, the hatred in his narrowed eyes palpable as his lips pursed in disgust. “Unless you plan to murder your own family, I don’t see what you could offer us.”
Gaeren repressed the shiver threatening to run through him. “My parents have been grooming Enla to take their place. She might have done it by now if I’d been around as her throne warden. I’m stepping into my role so I can help her step into hers.”
The unnamed man shook his head, the glint of metal flashing from under his hood. An earring? “They won’t step down. Not yet. Enla is losing her mind to her power as a pneumatic.”
Gaeren sat back, stunned. That was the information he’d hoped to give them to prove he was truly defecting and to get them on board with fighting Mayvus in exchange for his help. “How do you know that?”
Riveran raised his eyebrows, his gaze never leaving the fourth man. The silence remained unbroken until Gaeren couldn’t stand it.
“Does all of Elanesse know it?”
“Just the highest level of Recreants,” Riveran reassured him. “Even Sylmar and Velden aren’t privy to it, though they might be now after staying with you.”
Gaeren ran a hand through his hair, letting his mind race through how this might change things.
Except it didn’t. “The point is that if I’m by her side, I can convince my parents she’s improving.
I can get her to back off on her magic so she actually does improve.
And because my father has reigned for over twenty years, I can invoke my right as throne warden to demand he hand over the title. ”
Riveran frowned. “That’s a thing?”
“It’s an obscure right that’s only been used twice in Vendaran history. It still keeps the throne in the Elanesse line, but it keeps a king or queen from ruling past their prime. It wouldn’t have helped a year ago, but now Enla is malleable. I could convince her to step down.”
The fourth man chuckled, drawing all their attention.
It started out low and soft, then rose until Gaeren feared what sort of attention it might draw.
But it also sent a familiar rush of despair through him.
He’d heard that laugh before. And it was always followed by an embarrassing defeat in the training field.
The man pulled his hood back, and Gaeren gasped as Danton winked, his gold earring glinting in the light. “It appears you listened to some of my throne warden lessons after all.”
“Uncle Danton?” Gaeren whispered, then glanced around nervously even though none of the drunken men could have heard, let alone paid attention. “What are you doing here?”
“Same as you, it seems.” He leaned forward. “Fighting from within the palace.”
Smits pulled back his hood as well, his smile wide enough to reveal several gaps. Gaeren had passed some sort of test, and while half of him knew that had to be good, the other half couldn’t fathom his loyal uncle as a Recreant.
Gaeren nodded slowly. “And did some of that fight include grooming me to despise my parents?” As he looked back, he realized his lessons had always held double meaning.
They served their sibling as throne warden because their sibling shouldn’t do it alone.
They protected them because the people rightfully despised them.
They stood beside them so they could be in position when the time was right.
And that time was now.
It left Gaeren feeling like a pawn all over again.
Danton’s eyes flashed with remorse. “Your parents made themselves unlikable. What I’ve done is no different from what Larkos, Riveran, or even Father Fernandus did to an extent.”
“Father Fernandus is a Recreant?” Gaeren choked out.
Danton nodded. “We fed you information and watched as you dissected it, pulling it apart to find the truth. You may be a noetic, but you have the heart of a pneumatic.”
Gaeren thought of all the times Danton had been alone with his parents over the years. “Why didn’t you just take them out? You could have done it years ago.”
“Hear, hear,” Smits said, gaining an elbow in his side from Riveran.
“Could you take out Enla?” Danton asked softly, but his words left Gaeren convicted. “The man is still my brother. Even when he was branded by Mayvus, I held out hope that he could change. I thought he had when the brand was revealed and he was broken by his failures.”
Gaeren let out a snort, remembering how quickly his father had returned to his old ways.
Danton leaned forward. “Like you said, the timing has to be right. Killing your parents might have been a quick solution. I won’t argue that.
But it was never a long-term plan. Even if we killed Enla too, the nobles would just put someone else in their place.
A bloody war would ensue, and with finances on the nobles’ side, it wouldn’t end well.
I never wanted Enla’s mind to break, but I’ll admit it will make it easier to convince her to step down. ”
Gaeren grimaced. “So the plan I thought to present you with has been your plan all along.”
Danton sat back, his familiar grin putting Gaeren at ease even as Gaeren wondered if it should. “We’ve just been waiting for you to be on board.”
“I have one condition,” Gaeren said quickly, feeling his purpose spin wildly out of control. Was he playing into the Recreants’ hands?
Smits frowned and muttered something incoherent.
Even Danton’s eyes flashed with distrust. “Name it.”
“Mayvus is still alive and after Emeris. She wants power even more than my father. When she comes for it, you’ll be tempted to let her take out the royal family.
” He leaned forward earnestly. “But we need to work together to take her out first. That level of cooperation could even lend support to Enla giving authority over to the people.”
“Or it could weaken us before we go up against the king,” Smits said.
“You shouldn’t need to go up against the king if Enla takes his place and steps down,” Gaeren pointed out.
He and Smits stared at each other for a long moment, the other man’s glare making Gaeren’s hope drain as quickly as the mugs of ale in the room. It was time for his last boon.
“I’ve also promised the Southern Recreants that as a last resort, I’ll take my family to Lorvandas.”
Riveran choked on his ale. “You did—why did you do that?”
“To show my commitment to keeping my family from returning to the throne. To make sure I could keep Enla safe.”
Riveran’s eyes widened.
“Regardless,” Danton said, “I’d rather we get Enla to step down from the throne before we fight Mayvus. The Recreants will fight against someone threatening their democracy with more passion than they would fight against someone threatening the royal family.”
Gaeren flinched, knowing, thanks to his own men, it was true. “It sounds like she’s already reclaimed the fortress in the Myndren Mountains. I don’t know if we have time for that luxury.”
Danton shrugged. “Then I guess you’d better get started.”