Razi shrugged. ‘There was some petty vandalism,’ he said. ‘Nothing of import.’
Alberon sighed again, drummed his fingers, then waved Oliver away. ‘Try and fob them off, Sir Knight. Use your judgement. Be soothing.’
‘Aye, Highness.’
Wynter peered past Razi, watching as Oliver descended towards the Wolves. Sólmundr, Hallvor and Úlfnaor were watching from the edge of the road, and Razi grimaced at the sight of them.
‘Damn fools,’ he whispered, his eyes on Sól.
Alberon spoke coldly behind them and Wynter turned to find him staring at Christopher: ‘I have no patience for mopping up your messes, Freeman. This is not the time for personal vengeances. No matter how great the justification, I cannot have you and your people trampling their way over my negotiations and harming men who have come here in trust of my protection. This shall not happen again, are we in accord?’
‘Perfectly, your Highness.’
There was nothing in Christopher’s tone that could have been taken as offensive, but Wynter wished he could manage to bow a little lower and stare a little less. Alberon glared at him for just a fraction longer, then snapped at Razi: ‘Come away from the door, and leave Oliver to it!’
Razi pulled the insect-netting across and came to sit at the table opposite his brother. Wynter remained at the door, unwilling to leave Christopher’s side without knowing what was expected of him or where he should go. Razi glanced pointedly back at them, but it was not his place to offer an invitation and Alberon did not seem to notice their awkwardness, his attention being focused entirely on his brother.
‘So,’ he said softly, ‘I have persuaded my men that we shall get them safely home. They seem convinced, poor fools. Their trust is a heavy burden.’
Razi looked down at his hands, the knowledge of the men’s peril evident in his face. ‘Albi, at the risk of angering you, I’m going to ask you, once more, to keep Lorcan’s designs to yourself.’ Alberon tutted impatiently and Razi quickly went on: ‘Just until I have spoken to Father. Give yourself some ground to manoeuvre. If you do not send the designs home with Jared and the Combermen, then I can approach Father with a far greater hope of tolerance and—’
‘If I do not send the designs home with Jared and the Combermen, they will lose the support of their allies. Everything must be timed just so. You know this, Razi. We’ve spent all last night discussing it. Everything I have planned, everything, is balanced on the most delicate of timings. If there is one single delay, then my entire network of resistances will fall apart. Without Lorcan’s machines, the Midland Reformists will lose their courage, their Comberman supporters will slink into hiding and the Midland rebellion will be over before it begins. Marguerite will go ahead regardless and usurp her father, but her kingdom will be exposed and weak and all is at risk of being lost. This has taken too much planning for me to falter at the last moment. It is now or it is never. I have come too far and risked too much to stop now.’
Razi sat back, and Alberon watched him closely.
How young they look, thought Wynter. How young, and how tired.
‘You do not have to pretend that you believe in me, Razi,’ said Alberon softly. ‘I do not ask that kind of falsity from you. I understand that you have no faith in my vision . . . simply tell me that you will do your best. Please? Tell me that you will do your absolute best to ensure that my men return to their lives, and that I shall at least get the chance to present my plans to our father. It is all I ask of you.’
‘I will do my best.’
‘Thank you,’ sighed Alberon, leaning his head onto his hands. ‘Thank you . . . do try and get home without anyone slitting your throat, won’t you?’
‘I’ll do my best.’
Both brothers chuckled, and Alberon looked up at Razi from between his fists, his eyes smiling. ‘And then, perhaps, try and persuade Father not to kill me as soon as I come riding in the gates?’
Razi made a little sign at his throat. ‘Do not even joke,’ he warned softly.
Alberon nodded, sat back in a businesslike manner and slapped his hand on the table. ‘So, Freeman,’ he said, then frowned and motioned impatiently. ‘Why are you two loitering by the damned door? Get over here.