Chapter 34 Sariel
SARIEL
S ariel and Faron stood at Isabelle’s right hand, Aubert to her left, as the diplomat from Kanth bowed low before her.
Reglia hovered not far away, silently watching as he always did these meetings.
They gathered in the center of the Doremy camp, tents packed tightly together alongside the small stretch of forest marking Kanth’s border.
“I am honored to meet you at last, Queen Isabelle,” the diplomat said.
He was a small man, and strangely dressed in a thick black coat that seemed to swallow his entire body.
His hair was covered in a scarf, his boots tall, his hands fully enveloped in gloves.
Only his eyes were visible, pale and yellow.
Sariel did not remember such a style being common in Kanth, but then again, he had not been there in many years.
“It gives me great pleasure to bring news of peace and prosperity instead of war.”
Sariel was careful to hide his surprise.
With the bulk of western Kaus unified, either folded directly into Doremy or united within Leliel’s Protectorate, they had marched their army northward, across the plains of Vivarai to the mountainous reaches of Kaus’s spine known as the Crowning.
Of the three main kingdoms, two were vassals, Queen Lythia of Perche and King Salo of Valois.
Both were ruled by the largest of the three, the kingdom of Kanth.
Their control over the Crowning Mountains and the gold and silver within granted them enviable prosperity, while the deep forests surrounding their lands formed a natural wall against invasion.
So if they were willing to join the war effort against the Astral Kingdom, that would be the last piece falling into place, and the invasion of the east would be ready to begin.
“I do not seek peace,” Isabelle told the diplomat. “I seek Leliel’s rightful return to her exalted place, and that Mitra Gracegiver be cast down from his throne of lies.”
The diplomat offered her a scroll.
“To which His Majesty King Laurence Silvein the Second is willing to pledge substantial resources.”
Sariel stared at the scroll, immediate distrust sinking into his belly.
Something about this diplomat was off, and not just in his garb.
There was an aura about him… Unsettling.
Hinting of radiance, but how could that be?
Had the people of Kanth pledged to the Astral Kingdom in secret and learned forbidden ways from Eder?
Isabelle accepted the scroll, unfurled it, and skimmed the numbers before handing it to Aubert. Sariel glanced sideways at it, a tiny hint of radiance sharpening his eyes.
King Laurence was offering, while not soldiers, a tremendous amount of gold and silver from his nation’s coffers to fund the war effort, along with pledges of troops from both Perche and Valois to march in their stead.
In return, they would be considered part of Leliel’s Protectorate, although King Laurence would remain sovereign over his lands, and Perche and Valois his dutiful vassals.
A fair offer, in Sariel’s eyes, especially as it avoided the potentially costly march through Frostlash’s blue pines to lay siege to the Grand Castle of Kanth. Which was why there was no hiding Sariel’s surprise when Isabelle rejected it outright.
“From those who possess much, much must be expected in return,” she said, tossing the scroll to the dirt.
“And what I need more than coin are bodies. In return for King Laurence submitting reign of his kingdom over to Leliel’s Protectorate, and supplementing the wealth he has already offered, he will deliver to our armies half of his standing forces.
In addition, he will forfeit both his vassal states directly to Doremy, to become part of our glorious lands. ”
The diplomat’s eyes bulged, and despite his well-practiced composure, he sputtered a moment before he could respond. Aubert nearly matched his expression behind Isabelle.
“Such terms are unreasonable in the extreme,” the diplomat said. “I come seeking to avoid bloodshed, and—”
“You come so your king may waggle a coin in front of my face and pray I am distracted by it as a toddler would be,” she said. “You have heard my terms.”
“Terms I reject outright, without need of consultation with my king, for they are egregious to the last.”
Isabelle dismissed the diplomat with a wave of her hand.
“Then we have our answer, and you yours. Leave us, diplomat, and come not again unless you are ready to properly bend the knee.”
Later that night, Sariel paused at the entrance to Isabelle’s tent. Two guards were stationed before it, as there always were since his return from Lossleaf Castle. He fought back a smirk. As if they could stop him.
“I would speak with Queen Isabelle,” he told them.
“A moment,” one said, and then slipped inside. He emerged a moment later, whispered something to his fellow guard, and then gestured behind him.
“She’ll see you,” he said, and then the pair wandered away. It seemed Isabelle would ensure them their privacy. He appreciated it. Pretending not to notice the increased beat of his heart, he slipped inside the tent.
Isabelle sat in a chair before her little dresser, slowly combing her hair. She wore her travel attire despite the late hour. It seemed she held no expectations for sleep.
“Yet again you arrive late to my tent,” she said, not looking at him. “Is this your promised third time, Sariel?”
He jabbed Redemption into the ground and then crossed his arms.
“I would hear an explanation,” he said. “You are no fool, Isabelle. Your eye has ever been on your goal. Yet this baffles me. King Laurence’s offer was reasonable. Your counteroffer was not.”
Isabelle set her brush upon the table with a soft thud. He caught the faintest glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. She looked shaken, possibly even trembling.
“You sound like Aubert,” she said coldly.
“Representatives of both Perche and Valois have confided they are willing to join Leliel’s Protectorate.
They only fear King Laurence and his retaliation.
Something is amiss in Kanth, they insist, and they plead with me to remove Laurence from his throne.
Once we do, they will both bend their knees in obedience. ”
“They would also bend the knee if you accepted Laurence’s proposal,” Sariel said. “To my eyes, you seek war with Kanth even more than you desire to unite Kaus and sit upon an empress’s throne. That isn’t the Isabelle I know.”
She turned to glare at him. Raw, seething anger overwhelmed her voice.
“Then you do not know me,” she said. “Yes, I seek to unite Kaus, but crushing the Grand Castle of Kanth has ever been one of my goals.”
“Is it?” he asked, intrigued. He remembered the faint aura of wrongness wafting off Kanth’s diplomat, that hint of radiance, and wondered if Isabelle knew things he did not. “Will you explain why, or must I make assumptions and guesses?”
Isabelle looked away. Her fingers drummed the top of her dresser. “Not a word of this may leave my tent.”
Sariel slowly sat upon the edge of her bed and folded his hands. “You have my promise.”
The queen stood and paced before him, her fingers twitching and her steps quick and light.
She looked filled to the brim with energy.
No wonder she had not made an attempt at sleep.
Her pacing slowed, then stopped. Whatever internal debate she held, it was intense, and he thought she might change her mind and order him to leave.
Instead she resumed her pacing and quickly blurted out her truth.
“I am not my father’s bastard.”
Sariel lifted an eyebrow. “I see why this is not to leave your tent.”
She smiled briefly, a hint of amusement amid her anger and excitement. It warmed his insides.
“And I am a fool to trust you with this knowledge, Sariel, but perhaps I yearn to be a fool after a lifetime of studying and plotting. I do not know the identity of my father by blood, only my mother. Her name was Eliza, and she was a lowly servant of the Grand Castle.”
A “bastard,” her opponents freely called her, but it seemed even that link to noble blood was false. Perhaps she was a fool to tell him this.
“Are you certain?” he asked.
“All this was told to me by King Henri long after he adopted me in secret,” she said.
“I hold no reason to believe he lied. He was a friend of King Laurence, but he claims that the man changed over the years. Became something… darker, and stranger. Age left him, and his youth returned. My adoptive father… Henri… he traveled there less often, and at his final visit, he was appalled by the sinful depravities taking place within the Grand Castle’s halls. ”
Her mood shifted, cooling like embers thrown from a fire.
“I will not repeat the horrors, but they were many, Sariel. Even my father would not deign to tell me them all. The people of Kanth are twisted and vile, influenced by the sins of their king. My father said he feared for his life, but before he could leave… I was born.”
She closed her eyes.
“Henri said I was meant to be sacrificed, Sariel. Sacrificed, and my blood drank at a feast. And so he saved me. Just a meager child of servants, but he smuggled me out nonetheless, and at great risk to himself.”
It did not take much for Sariel to piece the rest together.
“And when he returned home with you, he claimed you as his bastard daughter.”
“He had no child of his own,” Isabelle said, nodding.
“I suppose his kindness also served himself, if you view it in such a way. I choose not to do so. He never spared me the truth, even if he lied to the rest of the world. I grew up listening to stories of the Grand Castle of Kanth and the blasphemies within. Blasphemy, he insisted, that they wielded through blood and sacrifice. Blasphemy, that the Church of Stars repeats with their wretched jars and prayers to the false Father.”
She sighed, a weak smile pulling at her lips to hide the hurt the next words caused her.