offset some of the burden of financing the army, and the building of the wall and sea defenses.”
“I thought the Pitorians were broke,” Regan said. “After they paid the ransom for Tzsayn, Aloysius has all their money. They won’t be able to pay us a kopek.”
“We can give them a loan,” Edyon said. “Charge them interest. We do it all the time in Pitoria.”
The chancellor was nodding as well now. “That would be an excellent source of income for the future.”
Regan’s scowl deepened. “Yes, until the Pitorians default on the loan and use our boats against us. Then the deal will not look so excellent.”
Thelonius sighed. “I understand your concerns, Regan, but while we’re all nervous of potential enemies, our one known enemy is Aloysius. The letter from Lord Darby explains clearly the threat he poses, and we have to deal with that threat. If the Pitorians show any threat to us in the future, then we will react to that.”
“So you’re going to send boats and men?” Regan asked.
“We are going to send fifteen scullers and a few men to train the Pitorians. We will charge for the boats and the training, as my son wisely suggested. We will not be fighting alongside the Pitorians on the boats. This is a business transaction. The men we send will only be to train. No Pitorians will come to Calidor.”
“And I will calculate a price for the boats, the service, and the interest on any unpaid amounts,” the chancellor said.
“Excellent,” Thelonius said, nodding. “Can’t you see this benefits us all, Regan?”
“I merely wanted to raise awareness of the risks. But of course, as always, Your Highness is correct.” Regan bowed deeply and added, “There are benefits to us all, indeed.”
CATHERINE
NORTHERN PITORIA
A woman must know her own mind before she can act on it.
Queen Valeria of Illast
“THE KING has asked for you, Your Majesty.”
Catherine looked up from her desk at Doctor Savage.
“He’s awake?”
“Awake but weak. If you could encourage him to rest, Your Majesty, that would help.”
“I’ll do my best, but he has a will of his own.”
And he always claimed he was well even when he was clearly feverish or in pain. What was it about Tzsayn that made him unable to admit to weakness, even to himself? Catherine remembered the first time they had met, on her arrival in Tornia, how proud and aloof Tzsayn had appeared. She’d learned a little more about him since then—and, yes, he was proud, but he was not aloof at all. He loved his family and his country. He was intelligent, witty, extremely brave, and aware that his life hung on a thread that could snap—or be cut—at any moment.
It was Ambrose who had talked about life being held by threads, though now Catherine couldn’t remember how that conversation had come up. But she liked the analogy. Yes, threads could break, or be cut, but they could also be strengthened by being bound with others.
“You are a welcome sight,” Tzsayn said as Catherine entered his bedchamber.
The king was propped up in bed on a mountain of blue pillows. It was over a month since his release from captivity and the wounds to his neck had healed over, but his face remained drawn and there was still a haunted look to his eyes. It seemed to Catherine that although he was no longer being kept in a cage, forced to watch his men being tortured to death, he was still seeing it in his head. She sat down close to him and took his hand, feeling how thin it had become.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling fine. Very fine. Even better now you’re with me.”
“Your leg?”
“I don’t want to talk about my leg anymore. Savage has bored me to death about it today. Tell me about you . . .”
“I’m fine also. Working hard. Getting jobs done.”
“I wasn’t thinking of jobs; I was thinking of you. Dealing with all the pressures of state as well as those of life . . . and death.”
Catherine frowned. Which death was he thinking of?
Tzsayn seemed to read her mind and he added gently, “I mean your brother. We’ve still not spoken of that.”
In her head, Catherine saw again the spear leaving her arm, flying through the air low and fast, Boris turning to her, their eyes meeting at that last moment as the weapon pierced his chest.
“I don’t regret what I did.”
Tzsayn’s eyes were on hers, as if he was looking for some-thing. “Not at all?”