Chapter Five Thera #2
“She told me,” Thera said. “As she also told me your other servant, that cook from the Verungyr, has been seen about the town conversing with folk she is unlikely to know. For a cook she appears highly accomplished in discreet movements, but there are few who can conceal their steps from Lynnea.”
“Got a rat to do the tracking for her, did she?” The old man’s beard shifted in a manner Thera knew concealed a smile of satisfaction at the narrowing of her gaze.
“Yes, I’ve known about the peculiar gifts of Lynnea Trahleyl for some time.
I was considering making use of her once she’d aged a bit, but you found her first.”
“For which I, and she, are grateful.” Thera fixed a hard glare upon her great-grandfather, making it clear the time for light banter was over. “What was the cook’s mission? The Spear Maiden tells me she’s a poisoner but her visits were marked by a distinct lack of corpses.”
“The business of a Tielwald is not that of a market trader. I cannot simply pack up my stall. Certain debts must be paid and assurances given, and demanded.”
“You were dismissing your spies from your service?”
“No. I was informing them that, should they choose, they now answer to a new Tielwald. Those amenable will make themselves known to her in due course. Those not will absent themselves from this realm as soon as the weather permits.”
Thera watched the old man remove the brass and steel hand from his wrist and replace it with the more usual barbed spike. “My thanks for your consideration, and dedication,” she said. “But this should have been discussed with me first.”
“The Sister Queens required little discussion with me. They knew…”
“They knew a great deal, but still failed to discern the traitor in their midst. As did you.” She paused, wondering if her next words were necessary, and deciding she wanted to say them nonetheless.
“A head that wears a crown cannot bow. Not to an enemy and not to a great-grandfather, no matter how famed he might be. This crown was forced upon me and I’ll bear its weight, for that is what this age of wrath requires.
While Ascarlia will most likely tolerate one queen, it cannot have two Tielwalds.
It has been many a year since I answered to you, and now you answer to me.
If you cannot, find a corner of this world far from my realm and live out your remaining years in quiet solitude. ”
Gruinskard didn’t look at her, instead continuing to fasten the straps of his cuff. Although he did consent to speak: “As my queen commands.”
She could have extracted more from him, perhaps even forced a public oath in front of her captains and counsellors.
Tempting as it was, she decided she had poked this old wolf enough for one day.
“Your other agents,” she said. “Those scattered about the realm who you communicate with via dreams. I trust you have also informed them of your change in status?”
“Those I’ve been able to reach. They were always few in number. I didn’t hand out skulls to just anyone. As far as I can tell, only a few remain. The Volkrath appear to have been diligent in finding those in my employ.”
“Did any happen to mention where Lore might be found at this juncture?”
He shook his head. “But I can confirm that both the Inner and Outer Isles are now scoured clean of Nihlvarians.”
“And Felnir? What can you say of him?”
She expected another reminder that her brother was most likely dead, but instead saw a troubled furrow creep over the old man’s brow.
“I try to reach for him sometimes, more in hope than expectation. For a long time the silence was so complete I was sure he was dead. But recently, something has changed. I can’t see him, nor hear his voice, but still, I feel him.
It’s like he exists on the far side of a cloud I can’t penetrate.
More troubling is that I sense he is no longer alone in his dreams…
” Gruinskard trailed off, the myriad creases of his forehead deepening in uncharacteristic confusion.
“Another dream walker?” she asked. “Someone who can do as you do?”
“I don’t think so. I can’t shake the sense that his dreams are now crafted by another hand. A hand that is not of this earth.”
Thera searched his craggy face, hoping for a sign he might be joking, or at least indulging in a lie. She saw none. “Unlike you to talk of the gods, Great-grandfather,” she said.
“I know not what it is. Nor its intent. I do know it assails your brother with ugly dreams, or visions. They are not always the same thing.”
“But no notion of where in the world he might be at this juncture?”
This time she detected some amusement among the shifting creases of his skin. “So keen for a reunion?”
“One thing I never doubted about Felnir was his skill in battle.”
“But would he serve you, my queen?”
“I’m confident he would at least serve the people of this realm in their time of need.
Whether he chose to call me queen, sister, or bitch, I couldn’t care less.
” Thera got to her feet. “Veilwald Ossgrym has advised that the fleet should be ready to depart in two days if the weather stays kind. When it does, you sail with me. You can leave the poisoner behind.”
“So you still find yourself in need of my insight, at least,” the old man observed as she made for the door.
“Your ability makes you useful,” she said. “As for your insights, I’ll ask for them when I need them.”
Skar Magnol. Lynnea’s thoughts were clear, if tinged with weariness.
By way of confirmation she shared an image with Thera, a jarringly clear view of a trio of Nihlvarian ships, the great hulk in the centre, labouring through Linsker Fjord towards a port beneath a tall mountain.
Thera experienced a moment’s disorientation, recognising this as something captured by the eyes of the seagull under Lynnea’s sway.
The vision fades after that, Lynnea added, withdrawing the image from Thera’s head. He is lost to me now. It’s the way of things. Eventually the bond between us withers.
“No matter,” Thera said. They stood together on the prow of the Great Wolf.
The warship was berthed in the heart of the queen’s fleet.
All around boats flitted between the hulls of the larger vessels, porting supplies from the stacked barrels and crates on the quayside.
The waters beyond the fleet were dark but free of ice.
“We know where she’s gone and the route lies open. ”
Sensing her Tielwald’s doubt, Thera raised an eyebrow until Lynnea consented to communicate a coherent thought.
Perhaps you should beware of allowing the Spear Maiden’s lust for retribution to colour your judgement.
Much still needs to be done here. And I cannot give firm assurance that every Volkrath agent in this port, or even this fleet, has been discovered and dealt with.
Lore may well have advance warning of our coming.
Thera shifted her gaze to the foredeck where Teylhar and his party of artisans were busy adding further refinements to the spear-casting engine.
Even with the contraption’s impressive showing during recent battle, Teylhar still saw room for improvement.
He had also been busy overseeing the construction of more engines.
Most of the true warships under Thera’s command now sported one.
It provided the Queen of the Ascarls with a formidable vanguard for the battles to come.
“Be assured that I act on my own initiative,” she told Lynnea.
“Not the Spear Maiden’s passions. Lore’s menda is mostly slain and her fleet sunk or fled.
My only regret is that we couldn’t strike at her sooner.
The command is given, Tielwald of mine. Tomorrow, I take the pick of our fleet and sail for Skar Magnol.
It’s time to cut the crown from the traitor queen’s head, for the thought of her wearing it offends me greatly. ”