the two other remaining councilors were finalizing their arrangements for the trade reception. He watched them smarm up to his father. No great loss, really, and maybe a lot to gain because then only his father would be in his way.
Rillen watched the mages from the corner of his eye. They didn’t seem to notice any of what went on between the councilors, or care. They sat in glittering splendor on their own cushions, monstrous and yet somehow hypnotic. And his secret allies.
“Rillen.” Urgaut’s voice snapped his gaze back to the councilors. “I assume you have good news?”
Good news, but not for Urgaut. “Oh yes. Van Gast gave us the slip, but I have a better plan now. Your informant was most helpful. I should have Van Gast very soon.”
Urgaut raised an eyebrow. “I’ll believe that when I see it. But if you can manage it—Van Gast can be our main exhibit at the reception. Prove how we’re taking the racks and their thievery seriously.”
Ah yes, the reception. His father showing off his new mages, his new power. Rillen assessed the other councilors. Their lives probably numbered in hours. Rillen wondered how he would do it. Wait until he had Van Gast, let him have an “escape” attempt and, so sad, kill the councilors before he was recaptured. That was a plan too good to waste. Old Toady would probably just poison them. No imagination.
Urgaut eyed him suspiciously. “In the meantime, you can assist.”
“Of course, in what way?” Rillen made his face eager, expectant, respectful, even as he thought Stupid bastard.
Urgaut threw a sheaf of papers Rillen’s way. “Get one of your men to check these over. Traders requesting invites to the reception. You can deal with this one, one of the patrol captains just brought it in.”
A thick card, done in green ink. Rillen raised an eyebrow. Very formal. He quickly scanned the card and a shiver of recognition, of possibility, ran through him so he was hard put not to smile. Oh, Lady Laceflower, I think I may learn to love you. His father obviously hadn’t worked it out, hadn’t talked to their deadly lady friend in any detail.
Rillen took his leave, handed off the sheaf of papers to an underling and studied the card again, turning over all the possibilities in his mind.
Esteemed Yelen councilors, the card began in a bold script. Lord Brimeld, Duke of Mimirin and his wife, Lady Amana, ambassadors of Ganheim and His Royal Highness King Jarral, request an audience to discuss the new trade route now open between our countries. We have a most profitable proposition to put to you, one which we hope will meet with your approval. We are currently aboard the Lone Queen and await your prompt response eagerly.
The bottom of the card was sealed with an imprint in wax.
The Lone Queen. The ship Urgaut had told him to watch, Van Gast’s ship, as was. Stolen by Joshing Josie and Skrymir, if his hate-filled Lady Laceflower was to be believed. Both of whom were Gan, a rarity in Estovan, a rarity anywhere on the mainland.
Joshing Josie, a worse threat than Van Gast in many ways, devious and crafty, and deadly as laceflower too. Josie, who Van Gast was here to find, wanted an audience with the Yelen. Rillen could think of only one reason she might want to get inside the palace, one reason she’d risk it. It was perfect, almost too perfect. It meant failing his father, at least this once, but he could live with that if it meant he ended with control of the Yelen. A large, illicit pile of money, too, and no suspicion would fall on him. Not with Van Gast to blame.
Rillen sat back in his chair and fanned himself with the card. The gods must be smiling on him. He made a mental note to make a bigger sacrifice at the temple in the morning, and set about crafting his reply.
Chapter Ten
Rillen didn’t trust this message to any of his men so he headed down to the delta himself. He lost himself in the city, in the crowds, the heat and dust and noise. His city soon enough. He noticed everything, wondered whether it would look better when it was his. Would the searing night air seem less roasting, the dust not get into his nose and make him sneeze? Would the beggars irritate him less when he knew they belonged to him, to Estovan? In a fit of generosity he flipped