sworn to himself he’d do something about it, convinced that a few ex-nobles like himself could do it better. He’d been undecided until her and the truth of what she’d shown him. He’d sworn in order to make things better, for her and those like her, and then… They needed someone to gather behind, and Licio was perfect. Young, idealistic, impressionable.
“To do all you want, we need Licio,” Sabates said. “But he needs help. I can’t be everywhere. I need a helping hand, one who’s good with a sword and yet doesn’t hold outdated notions about guns either. Someone with a shred of honour and some brains. And you know who stole that chest, don’t you?”
Egimont’s head was whirling. Sabates was a magician, and even now Egimont was sure that the ban on magicians had been the right thing to do. They’d run the country before – Licio’s father had been ruled by them whether he’d admitted it or not. They’d run it, and look how that turned out. But Sabates seemed to know what Egimont wanted and to want the same himself. Egimont wanted to trust him, but trust hadn’t worked out so well lately.
“Perhaps,” he allowed.
“Perhaps.” A smile from Sabates. “Very well. And perhaps you already have two masters, the prelate and your king. One open, one secret. How about a third? A third who can actually make what you want happen rather than just talk about it. One who will give you what you want most. Tell me, why did you swear to the king?”
The patterns flowed across the magician’s hands, now two-headed snakes, now a noose, now a duelling sword, now two armies battling and neither winning. They flowed and swam and brought strange thoughts to mind.
Egimont couldn’t have not answered if his life depended on it. “The prelate… I believed in him. I believed in what he set out to do, in a way. He made me believe it. And then I saw. She showed me. What he’d really done. But if – when – he falls, his council will turn on each other like starving wolves, all trying to own the whole carcass. The only one of that council with enough support to take over without a full-scale civil war is Licio, but he needs money to do it. He was, is, the king. Enough royalists still keep the faith, enough only pay lip service to Bakar’s new Clockwork God. Enough of the rest will support Licio when it’s clear he’ll win. He was never tested; the revolt was against his father. There are whispers that he isn’t his father’s child, that a sane king is better than an insane prelate. Many don’t agree with the prelate’s new laws, the taxes, the unending dispute with Ikaras. I can’t blame them.”
Egimont managed to drag his gaze away from Sabates’ hands, frowned and shook his head. He hadn’t meant to say that much. And yet none of it was untrue.
“And now that you know the king better?”
“We’d replace a madman with a young fool.” The words seemed ripped out of him and wrong somehow – Licio hadn’t seemed foolish, not until Sabates had come. Before that he’d seemed full of ideas, and ideals, naïve perhaps but no fool.
“Unless the man who truly rules isn’t Licio.” Sabates moved his hands, and the patterns faded to nothing as he stroked the horse again. “And that man will need a reliable lieutenant. One who will be amply rewarded for his trouble. With, say, a duchy? And a duchess to go with it?”
Egimont glanced up sharply. Did he mean…? No.
Still, Egimont was tempted. For all his misgivings about the magician, Egimont had begun to despair. A fool who was perhaps a touch mad or a different fool? Neither appealed; either would destroy this country given half a chance. The prelate had already started. Yet Egimont wavered. Working for a magician wasn’t an honourable position.
“Unless that’s the only way to save a country,” Sabates murmured. “A duellist serves their country first, isn’t that what they say? What you were taught at the guild before you were so rudely ripped from it? Over and above the prelate or any temporary hiring, they serve their country, their guild, ultimately their own conscience. They do what seems good to them. You’re no longer a duellist in name, but you are one by training and heart, aren’t you? Why not do both? Work for me, and the king and prelate too. Do my bidding when