Corec told Sarette about the events of the previous night while they waited for the others. The knights were the last to arrive. Like Nedley, they’d been out in the village to help reassure people and keep them from panicking.

“Thanks for coming,” Corec told the group after everyone else was seated. He remained standing. “We just finished up with the prisoners—”

“Why’d you let them go?” Georg demanded. “They killed two of our men!”

“They were under a demonic spell,” Corec said. “They couldn’t control their own actions.”

Georg waved that off. “Kevik told me. What makes you think they’re not lying?”

Kevik had kept quiet, but he looked uncomfortable too. Perhaps Corec should have asked the two men to be more involved with the questioning. They didn’t have any experience with the red-eyes.

Treya answered the question. “The only reason I was able to stop them was because it was demonic magic,” she said. “And I made sure they weren’t lying.”

She had a knack for getting the prisoners to tell the truth, but if it was a spell of some sort, Corec suspected she’d only needed it on a few of them. Most had been talkative enough without it, and they’d all told the same story.

“Were they really the king’s mercenaries?” Kevik asked.

Corec drew Bertram’s badge from his pocket, a black, eight-pointed star, and dropped it on the table. “They carried these, and Ral sent a runner back from their campsite. They left their armor there so no one would recognize them.”

Georg snorted. “Stupid.”

“Yes, stupid, and lucky for us. It could have gone a lot worse.”

“Why does he want you dead?” the older knight asked.

Corec was getting tired of not having an answer for that question. “I don’t know. Our best guess is that it’s because I know he’s a mage and a …” He paused, glancing at Razai. Demonborn had a hard enough time in Larso without getting blamed for whatever Rusol was doing. “A warden.”

They hadn’t known those things during the previous attacks, but the topic was complicated enough without useless speculation on what the original reason had been.

Kevik wrinkled his brow. “A warden? Like the title you’ve been using?”

“It’s just a kind of magic. I can tell you more later if you want to know, but the important part is that the other wardens don’t want anyone to know who they are. For Rusol, I’m not sure it matters. As the king of Larso, being a mage is probably bad enough. What will the Church do if they find out?”

“If you knew he was after you, why come here?” Georg asked. Kevik knew some of the details, but for the older knight, it was all new.

“The last time he tried, his men murdered a lot of innocent people trying to get to me. I figured if he wants to kill me, I should make it easier for him. Here, we’re close enough to draw out his attacks. I was trying to keep him away from anyone else, but I wasn’t expecting to be surrounded by civilians. That’s going to make things more difficult.”

“You came here for the fortress?” Kevik asked, his tone carefully neutral. “Not the dragon?”

“No,” Corec said. “We’d planned to find someplace up north. I certainly didn’t intend to be anywhere near Fort Hightower. But someone had to deal with the dragon, and once that was done and we found this place, it made more sense to stay. The advantages outweigh the drawbacks.”

Kevik nodded and leaned back in his chair, relaxing his shoulders.

“What did you learn from the prisoners?” Boktar asked.

“There were four squads last night,” Corec said, getting the conversation back on track. “We killed thirteen men and released fifteen. Sarette’s going to watch the western routes to make sure they don’t head back to Larso.”

Razai sat forward, looking interested, but Corec shook his head. He would need her for other tasks.

“The same day they left,” he continued, “seven hundred more mercenaries in Tyrsall were also ordered out. As far as we know, those troops aren’t demon-controlled, but that actually makes it worse. They’re fighting for coin, and Treya can’t heal that.”

“They’re coming here?” Katrin asked

“I’m not sure, but it’s too much of a coincidence to expect otherwise. I think we can handle seven hundred if Sarette and Shavala are willing to fight, but I don’t know if that’s all we’ll be facing. Rusol’s got another two thousand mercenaries up north.”

“I thought our plan was to retreat if he sent an army here,” Bobo said.

“That was before all these people showed up,” Corec said. “We can’t leave a thousand or more civilians behind. It would be different if we were talking about the knights, but you can’t trust a large group of mercenaries unless someone’s keeping tight control over them. Rusol’s already shown he doesn’t care who they kill, which means we’ve got to stay and fight.”

“Then you’re talking about a real war,” Boktar said.

“Maybe, but so far, he’s only used mercenaries against us. Sending other troops outside the kingdom would require cooperation from the Church and the peerage. If we make the first battle too expensive of a loss, he might not have enough support to continue the war.” Corec grabbed a stack of papers he’d left on the bench and dropped it on the table. “So that’s what we’re going to do.”

Boktar eyed it. “You worked all that up this morning?” he asked.

“I’ve been working on it for over a year,” Corec said. “Let’s see if any of it’s still accurate.”

#

“Why did they come here, Lady Katrin?” Thella asked. “What did they want?” The woman had her two youngest children with her, a baby boy in her arms and a little girl standing solemnly at her side.

“We don’t know,” Katrin said. That was still the truth, technically, even if they had some guesses.

“They won’t come back, will they?” Thella was staring anxiously down the hill, where the knights were teaching her husband and some of the other settlers how to use a crossbow.

“We hope not, but if they do come again, Corec will do everything he can to protect you.” Katrin added a touch of power to her words—not enough to overcome the woman’s rightful worry, but enough to calm her down. Panic wouldn’t help anyone.

Thella bit her lip as she watched her husband load a crossbow bolt. “I don’t want Hortis to get hurt.”

“I promise we’ll do our best to make sure the village men don’t see any fighting,” Katrin said. “Hortis is just down there to learn how to protect your family.”

Corec had only allowed the idea of a civilian militia to help the settlers feel safer in case there was another surprise attack. He had no intention of using them in a real battle, though four of the new militia members had already volunteered to join the soldiers.

“Are you sure?”

“I am, but for now, we need everyone to be strong,” Katrin said, once again adding power to her words. “Can you be strong?”

The woman take a deep breath. “Strong … yes. Strong.” She squared her shoulders and set off to gather her two oldest children, Bril and Maya, from where they’d gathered with the other village kids to watch the training session.

Katrin was checking the list of names she carried when Corec approached.

“I think that’s everyone on the north side,” he said. “How’s it going?” He looked exhausted, even with help from Treya. He’d been awake for a day and a half without a break.

“They’re worried, but it’s not as bad as I thought,” Katrin said. “That thatcher, Willson, he’s taking his family back to Four Roads.”

Corec sighed. “I can’t blame him. Those neighbors of his—what’s the name? Renwood, I think. They’re going too. And another family over on the west side.”

Katrin thought about that for a moment. “Willson’s and Renwood’s cottages are right next to each other. What if we took that space and built a new tavern there?”

“You want another tavern?”

“Something outside the walls, for the public,” Katrin said. “You said we need to start keeping the gates closed. And we can make this one bigger. Not just a tavern, an inn. We’re going to need one—the boarding house won’t have enough room for people who are just passing through.”

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

The builders had already begun work on the boarding house and two apartment buildings. An inn seemed like the next logical step, and Barz could handle the extra responsibility.

Corec tried to cover up a yawn. “Sorry. Yes, that makes sense. I’ll let Boktar know.”

“And then we can use the tavern in the fortress just for our own men. Or for something else.”

“We’ll move the barracks kitchen and mess hall over there. That’ll give us room enough in the barracks for another squad, since it seems like we’ll need it.” Corec stared at the spot where the inn would be, his eyes unfocused.

“You should get some sleep,” Katrin said.

“We’ve still got to talk to the folks on the south side. Ready?”

#

Ellerie found Corec in his office, a mage light shining overhead as he read through some paperwork.

“Hey,” she said.

He looked up, rubbing his eyes. “Ellerie!” he said, standing. “Shavala said you weren’t coming until tomorrow.”

“Leena told me what was going on, so we came back early. There’s an army on the way?”

“We don’t know anything for sure yet, but we’ve got to plan for at least seven hundred of Rusol’s mercenaries.”

Ellerie considered that. “Can we handle that many?”

“If we don’t make too many mistakes. I’m more worried about who else he’s going to send. He’s got a lot more than seven hundred men, and if his bondmates come, we’ll lose our main advantage.”

During her first visit home, Ellerie had sought out some spells to help them retain that advantage. It seemed it was time to get back to studying.

“When will they be here?” she asked.

“Could be two weeks, could be two months. Could be never. There’s a lot we don’t know. Once Leena’s rested up, I’m hoping she can make a few trips for us.”

“She told me. Can I do anything to help?”

Corec was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry about your mother,” he said.

Revana was a more complicated topic than Ellerie wanted to get into. “At least she’s not in pain anymore,” she said. “Vilisa asked that I convey her appreciation for your official recognition of her ascension to the throne.”

He furrowed his brow. “Did I do that?”

“I wrote a letter and added your name. The other ambassadors were doing the same thing.” Ellerie was Vilisa’s ambassador, not Corec’s, but her sister had so far been tolerant of her split loyalties.

Corec nodded. “As for helping, yes, I’ve got a list for you somewhere.” He flipped through the mess on his desk. “That work crew from Senshall is here, rebuilding one of the old warehouses. The coal wagons have started running, but we’re still waiting on a caravan master to manage the exports. The first real trading caravan arrived—Overland Holdings, hauling wool south from Four Roads—but we didn’t have anyone manning the bridge. Boktar got it all settled, but we’ll need a tollhouse or something.”

“I’ll talk to Bobo and Boktar and come up with a plan,” Ellerie said.

“We also hired more of the local men as builders and soldiers. We had to allocate some of the gold you brought back from Terevas, but Boktar’s got a list of the wages.” He paused. “There was something else I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?”

“I can’t plan a war and manage everything else at the same time—the keep, the fortress, the traders, the miners, the village. All the other villages, including the ones we don’t know about. It’s too much.”

Ellerie tilted her head to the side. “I thought we had it all running smoothly. We’re each taking care of different pieces.”

“It works fine until it doesn’t,” Corec said, pacing back and forth. “Katrin’s learning how to manage the household. Boktar’s been overseeing the workers and soldiers, but we’re running him ragged with every little random task that comes up. Sarette commands the soldiers. Bobo’s basically serving as steward of the lands at this point. Patrig got himself elected as mayor. But they all need to talk to someone, and it’s getting to be too much of a distraction. You were making a lot of the decisions before you left.”

“I … I’m sorry,” she said. “Sometimes it was easier than waiting.” She’d gotten used to splitting duties with Corec while they were traveling, and she had a good idea of which tasks she was better suited for.

“No, don’t apologize—I want you to keep doing it. I don’t want to deal with the trading houses or with couriers from Duke Lorvis unless it’s something you’re not sure about. I need a second-in-command, someone that everyone else can talk to when I’m not available.”

“You want that to be me?” she asked. It didn’t come entirely as a surprise.

“Yes, something like a … well, not a seneschal. Maybe chancellor would be the right word for it.”

That fit. In human terms—at least in the west—chancellors oversaw matters of finance and diplomatic relations. Yet chancellors served rulers, and until now, Corec had been limiting the titles he’d given out to positions that might serve a baron or a duke. Perhaps he’d realized his little backwoods settlement in the middle of nowhere wouldn’t remain that way forever.

The work would be similar to what Ellerie had already been doing, but she’d have to make sure she understood Corec’s long-term plans if she was going to make decisions in his name.

They were interrupted by a knock at the already-open door.

“Sir, a message came for you,” one of the maids said.

Corec took the letter from her, frowning at the crest on the wax seal. His expression grew grim as he read through it.

“Is something wrong?” Ellerie asked.

“It’s from King Orlin of Matagor. He thanks me for my service in liberating Crown property from the dragon’s clutches, and wishes to inform me that he’ll be sending a delegation to take command of the region.”

#

Lucanus was quietly haranguing the driver about something, so the new bodyguard, an earnest young man named Tarun, helped Yassi out of the carriage.

Narini, clad in trousers rather than a long Zidari dress, was able to hop out on her own. The Seeker spun in a slow circle, taking in their surroundings before allowing herself to relax.

Lucanus stalked over to join them. “Driver says this is the Larso embassy,” he said, scowling at Yassi. “You told me we were seeing your family.”

“We are,” Yassi replied. “My parents are visiting from back home—they used to work here when I was young.”

“Anything else you want to tell me before we go in, Mera?”

The Valaran bodyguard knew she was from Larso, but he couldn’t have missed that she’d been trying to get away from there. What would it look like to him that she now wanted to visit the embassy? She drew him off to the side so they could speak privately.

“I’ll tell you everything later, all right?” she said. “For now, I need you and Tarun to wait out here.”

“Why bother hiring bodyguards when you insist on going everywhere alone?”

“Narini will go in with me.” At his look, she added, “She’s family, of sorts.” She didn’t have time to explain the intricacies of Sanvari clan relationships.

Lucanus grunted. “Fine—you’re the boss. I’ll wait. Again.”

She slipped a small pouch of gold into his hand. “If I don’t come back,” she whispered, “try to find a way to get me out of there. Hire someone, bribe someone, I don’t know. Just don’t let them take me.”

“What?”

“Don’t let them take me back to Larso. Don’t kill anyone—it’s not worth that—but try to keep me away from Larso if you can. If not, Merice will need help getting back to Telfort. She won’t want to stay here on her own. And no matter what you do, don’t hurt my parents.”

He narrowed his gaze. “You’re going to owe me that explanation.”

“Soon. And keep the carriage driver here. We might need to get away quickly.”

With that, she gathered Narini and headed for the embassy. The building looked like a normal home, no larger than the house Yassi and Merice were sharing. Larso had never focused much on foreign relations, and wouldn’t have had an embassy this far from its borders if not for Sanvar’s size and importance as a trading partner.

She strode up to the lone, bored-looking guard waiting at the door.

He was a local, so she spoke in Sanvari. “I have an urgent message for Ambassador Luthe and Lord Samuel,” she said. “I need to speak with them right away.”

The man glanced at Narini’s scimitar—an unusual weapon for a woman to carry—but evidently decided they weren’t a threat. He allowed them into the vestibule and summoned a minor functionary to carry their request to the appropriate people.

Luthe arrived first and his eyes widened in recognition. He gave a deep bow. “Your Majesty! Welcome to Sanvara City! I didn’t realize … Is His Majesty here as well?” He glanced around as if expecting Rusol to pop out from behind a curtain.

“No, Ambassador, I’m here on my own. I’d like to speak with my parents.”

“Of course, of course. Lord Samuel was just behind—”

“Yassi!” her father exclaimed. He grabbed her in a tight hug, then shook her by the shoulders. “What in the world do you think you’re doing? Why did I have to chase you halfway around the continent?”

And then her mother was there as well—Meerah, whose name Yassi had used as the basis for her own alias.

“Yassi? Is that you?”

It took some time to make it through the appropriate greetings, but finally Yassi and her parents were ensconced in a private sitting room, Narini positioned outside the only door.

“I went home this morning,” Meerah was saying. In this context, she meant her family’s camp at the edge of the city. “I thought I’d find you there, but Mama and Saira say you’ve been living in the orange grove district. Your father and I were planning to visit tomorrow.”

“I figured you would, so I decided to surprise you,” Yassi said. “I Saw you arrive.”

“You never answered my question,” Samuel said. “Whatever possessed you to leave Larso and come all the way here?”

“Rusol told me to!” Yassi said. “He’s worried the Church knows I’m a mage, and that they believe the baby will be, too.” She’d had to add more details to her lie to turn it into something her parents might believe.

They exchanged uncertain glances. “He didn’t mention anything like that,” Meerah said. “It must have been a false alarm. He insists that you return home with us.”

Yassi tensed, but despite the odd phrasing her mother had used, there was no corresponding push on her mind. Perhaps Rusol’s orders only worked when they were delivered in person.

“He told me I should stay in Sanvar no matter what,” Yassi said. “You must have misunderstood.”

Samuel produced a sealed letter and slid it over to her. “He was very clear. He said this would explain it all.”

His eyes were glazed over, and Meerah had an absent-minded look on her face as she nodded along—they, too, had been compelled. How far did their orders go? Would they try to force Yassi to come with them? She might still need Lucanus.

She took the letter but didn’t open it. Something written in Rusol’s hand might still trigger the compulsion. She’d ask Merice to read it to her later.

Yassi would have to adjust her lie again, to provide her parents with a reason why she would ignore their demand.

“What if he’s wrong?” she said. “What if he thinks the threat has passed but it hasn’t? Living in Telfort has always been a risk for me—you know that. I’m going to stay here until I’m certain it’s safe.” She tried to keep her voice steady and firm. She was still the queen, after all, even if that would hold little sway with her own parents.

“You can’t stay in Sanvar!” her mother exclaimed. “What does Shereen think about all this?”

“The empress? Why would she know about it?” Her parents knew Empress Shereen from Samuel’s days as ambassador, but Yassi had been too young to remember any of it.

Samuel’s eyes went wide. “She doesn’t know you’re here? Yassi, you’re the Queen of Larso. You can’t just sneak into the city!” He stood and paced. “We’ll have to smooth things over with the palace. I’ll send Luthe with a message informing them we’ve arrived. I was hoping to speak with Shereen while I was here anyway. Hopefully we can get it all settled before you cause a diplomatic incident.”

Yassi considered that. Could she still act as queen? In Larso, the queen held little power of her own, but a queen visiting from a far-off land, in an empire ruled by a matriarchy … that held some promise.

Perhaps she could come out of hiding. She could even tell Rusol—by letter, of course—part of the truth about why she’d left. The part that would excuse her actions, not the part that would make him even angrier. If she supported him publicly, and aided any efforts he made in Sanvar, he might give up on trying to fetch her back.

It was a risk, but not much more of a risk than she already faced. He knew where she was. She’d have to figure out a way to coexist with him sooner or later.