The Burning White (Lightbringer #5) - Brent Weeks Page 0,173

to make something else happen that he can’t foresee.”

“Time is on his side.”

“Only if he wants to rule,” Karris said. And she thought of the look in his eyes when she’d met with him, a look of hatred implacable.

Andross tilted his head. “Of course he wants to rule. I just told you what he’s done to prepare—”

“To prepare for an assault on us. Koios doesn’t care how many of his own people die. What if he doesn’t want to rule? What if he just wants vengeance on all of us for what we’ve done? Regardless, it’s easier for him to build his new paradise on our graves.”

Andross scowled, thinking it over, but then his scowl softened, and she already knew what he was going to say. “We’ve no reason to believe what you’re saying.”

“I just gave you a reason,” Karris said.

“Your intuition? That’s not reason. That’s exactly the opposite of reason; that’s a feeling. A worry. You want to base our war plan on your intuition now? Well! Let’s recall our spies. What a waste of time, trying to actually find things out! We can just feel what our enemies are going to do from now on! It’ll be so much more efficient!”

“Has anyone told you recently how much of an asshole you are?”

“No. But only because they’re afraid of me.”

“Well, I’m not.” It was actually true at the moment she said it. And this, too, felt right. Her purpose was unfolding before her with every action that was in line with the Blackguard she was and every word she spoke that was true.

“Good for you. Are you going to say it now? Will it make you feel better?”

Karris didn’t take the bait, didn’t call him an asshole or any of the other words that so aptly applied. She said, “I’m taking over command of the drafters’ training myself. Today. I’ve been helping for a long time, but they’re all mine now. And I’m reclaiming a fair percentage of the incomes I’d allowed you to divert from Chromeria funding. I’ll be using them here to shore up the islands’ defenses.”

“You will not. I’ll not allow it. Also, we need to have a conversation about those pet luxiats of yours. Not now, but—”

“I’m fighting alongside you, father. You ask yourself, Is your time so worthless that you can throw it away in fighting against me instead? I require less money than you might lose if a single galley with supplies were plundered on its way here from Ruthgar.”

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Very well, but if I let you do this, then—”

“No! This is not a trade. It’s not a game. You do what you must to save the satrapies. That’s exactly what I’m doing, too.”

“And when Ironfist arrives? You’ll do what you have to then, too?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, and she felt it to the core of her being: this, too, was true.

Andross turned to go, but then stopped. “I’ve been intending to give you a gift, but I’m afraid it’s fallen through.”

“A gift?”

“Yes. Gavin’s old room slave, Marissia. I know you have . . . missed having her help. It turns out she didn’t run away after all. She was kidnapped. I traced her to an island off the Ruthgari coast where she was imprisoned. But it turns out she escaped with the help of mercenaries or pirates. One assumes she must have been desperate indeed to throw herself on the mercies of such people, but at least they didn’t murder or enslave the servants on the island, so there is some reason to hope. Unfortunately, the lord those servants believed they were serving doesn’t actually exist, so I’ve no more leads on who took her in the first place. Anyway, I thought you’d like to know you were right about her innocence, and that she is likely still alive. Who knows, maybe she’ll come back to take up her chains once more.” He smiled thinly.

No, Marissia would fear she was labeled a runaway. She’d surely believe that if she returned they would sell her to some lesser house—if not to a brothel or the mines. It was unlikely she’d heard Gavin had manumitted her in his will. Even if she had, she’d still have good reasons to fear coming back.

But all this was a smokescreen, Karris knew. Andross had been the one who’d ordered Marissia’s kidnapping. Not that she could tell him she knew that.

So what did this mean? It was probably half true. He’d