Nic whispered to his mother, growing numb inside at the thought of Temple doors ripped from their hinges, and the guilty and innocent alike slaughtered on the floors of their own churches.
His mother let go of him and folded her arms. “It had to be rectors who killed my children and my husband. Your father—your brothers and sisters! And when you fell from the tower under their care, I knew.”
Nic still couldn’t quite grasp her words, or believe them to be true. “But all of them? All over Dyn Mab?” He thought about Lord Brailing’s Watchline massacre, and couldn’t see a difference between the two deeds. “That would be hundreds.”
“That many fewer traitors to nip at our flanks as we marched out to meet our enemies.” His mother’s eyes grew ever more narrow as she spoke. “Loyalty is a tricky thing, my son. Those who do not stand with you stand against you—which I’m sure by now you’ve realized.”
Nic wondered if his mother had seen who he rescued when she lent him energy to stop the attack on Dari. He wanted to lift his leg and force her to stare at the second cheville he now wore to bind him to the granddaughter of the man his mother had hated, seemingly without reason, for most of her life. The man she had first blamed for the deaths of her family, and the dynast she had been crusading against despite attacks from other dynast armies.
“We have much to discuss later,” he said. “For now I must know your intentions. When you take your forces onto the battlefield at Triune, against whom will you fight?”
Lady Mab gave him a look that said perhaps he was still slow in the mind, after all. “We will fight any who stand against us.”
The commanders encircling them shifted. Armor rattled, and swords clattered. They didn’t speak, but even at such a distance, Nic saw the anger on many of their faces.
“Lord Brailing and Lord Altar attacked you.” Nic tried to hold himself together, but he was feeling smaller by the second, his own thoughts beginning to swim as he tried to reason with his mother’s twisted perceptions and irrational plans.
How many times had he done this in his life?
And had he ever succeeded?
“Helmet Brailing is a doddering fool,” his mother announced, straightening her vambraces. “Bolthor Altar would never harm me.”
“Until they broke off attacks to head for Triune to capture or kill a friend of mine, their armies were ravaging Dyn Mab’s countryside.” Nic heard himself speaking, his words choked off by pain in his heart and his body, too. This was too much. He couldn’t reach her. Why had he thought anything might be different now?
I might as well climb the nearest tower and leap off. That would do as much good as talking to her.
The thought passed through his mind more than once as she kept speaking.
“Kembell Ross is another matter. With his Sabor, he could be a threat like no other, the one dynast lord who could take the throne from us.” She patted Nic’s arm like he was little more than a child. “That’s what you must remember.”
The Sabor would never participate in treachery, even at Lord Ross’s command. They were loyal allies, but not oathbreakers. Nic kept this to himself, saying only, “Lord Ross battles on the side of Stone and Cobb—and Mab as well. He has nearly given his life to see me safely this far.”
“He’s treacherous. Don’t let him fool you, my boy.” Another pat. His mother’s eyes were growing distant again, as if she might be listening to warped visions instead of Nic.
Snakekiller’s frown was so intense Nic could tell she wanted to try a dose of elixir on his mother, to see if the medicine might calm Lady Mab’s madness enough to make her see reason.
He knew better.
His mother was about to lead a force of thousands into a war she didn’t even understand how to fight, though her commanders seemed to have a fair enough grasp. Nic tried to read their faces, to make eye contact with each one and determine what they planned to do, irrespective of her orders.
If he seized his mother, or had Snakekiller take her again, would they defend her?
Nic didn’t even know if he and Snakekiller could hold her if she poured the force of her insanity into the powerful graal that was his legacy from her.
The risk was too great.
He was certain that if Lady Mab had been a man,