“I’ve raised it with Eddiscon but there are always excuses—the lack of money he’s getting in taxes; the amount of money he’s paid to the crown. I have a certain sympathy, actually. I’m trying to raise money to pay for soldiers, food, horses, weapons, ships, repairs, tents . . . the list goes on. I don’t have enough for that, never mind helping those who are left behind in the wake of the war. I’m emptying your coffers faster than a Pitorian greyhound. We’ll soon have to borrow more.”
“I thought we were doing good news first.”
Catherine smiled. “My apologies. You’re correct. Let me think . . .” But she was at a loss.
“You’re a true Brigantine at heart still. There is no good news in your eyes.”
“We’re at war. There’s disease, there’s—”
“What about the sunshine? It’s sunny today—is that not good news?”
Catherine sighed dramatically. “Yes, but we Brigantines know only too well that sunshine brings flies, and with the sun comes heat, which means the meat and milk go off faster.”
“You sound more like a farmer than a queen.”
“I sound like a woman who hears farmers’ complaints all day.”
“Fine. So the sunshine is a problem. How about the war? Has your father sent his army against us?”
“No. He’s still holding back, building up his stockpile of smoke, no doubt.”
“It’s a grim situation indeed—sunshine and peace.”
Catherine snickered.
“And you laugh at this dire situation!” Tzsayn scolded her.
“My apologies again, Your Majesty.”
“So give me the really bad news then.” His face was serious now. “The red fever?”
“There have been no new deaths from it for three days now, and most are recovered, but some are still weak.”
“Is that almost good news or is there a punch line?”
“It’s almost good news. Just not all good yet.”
“Is Sir Ambrose ready to go?”
“The day after tomorrow. I was going to ask you about that. It would be useful if he attended the war briefing tomorrow, so that he understands the overall situation.” Catherine hesitated, then plunged on. “And I’d like to wish him well. He’s my oldest friend. He’s helped me and protected me for years. This mission is incredibly dangerous. There is a good chance he may not come back. I confess I’ve met him once . . . by chance. But I shouldn’t have to confess it. I need to set my own standard of behavior.”
“You think I’m a dictator? That I’ve gone too far in my concern about appearances?”
“No to the first question. And perhaps a little to the second.”
Tzsayn nodded. “You should see him. Give him my thanks for all he’s done.” But he couldn’t seem to resist adding, “But meet him in a public place. With Tanya, Davyon, and half the army . . . no, the whole army, present.”
Catherine smiled. “It’ll be Tanya, Davyon, and the generals at the war meeting—actually not that far off your request.”
“Good. Any more news? How are our friends the Calidorians?”
“Lord Darby and his aide are actually more experienced than I initially expected. They fought Aloysius in the last war and their insights are useful, but dealing with them is even harder than negotiating with the farmers. However, they have agreed to sell us some ships, though we’re having to pay for them at vastly inflated prices. I’m going to take delivery of them next week and sign Pitoria up for years of loan repayments.”
“That’s tomorrow’s problem,” Tzsayn said. “At least we’ll have the ships today. You’ve done well with the Calidorians. Thelonius has always had a problem trusting others. That comes from having a brother like Aloysius, I suppose.” Tzsayn held his hand out to her. His skin was hot and his fingers felt thin, but his tone was as comforting as ever. “You astound me, Catherine. To come from that family—to have Aloysius as a father, Boris as a brother—and to be so loving and caring. Not to have been corrupted by that shows how strong you are.”
“You’re too generous. I was lucky in one respect: being female, my father took no interest in me. I rarely saw him, was rarely in the company of Boris or any man. At the time I felt imprisoned, but now I’m glad I led a sheltered life. I was protected from the worst of my father’s ways. I fear for my younger brother, Harold.” She hesitated before adding, “He was on the battlefield after Boris died, and sent a message to me.”