their leaders will not recover from. When they realise that the Loups-Garous are no longer on their side, their scheme for an invasion of the West will be destroyed. They too will rip themselves apart with recrimination and struggle. The Western Haun will be weakened beyond repair.’
Razi huffed. ‘What use are Wolves and Corsairs to the Haun?’ he murmured. ‘Why would they seek the support of ragtag pirates and rabid ungovernable scum like you?’
Le Garou glanced darkly at him from the corner of his eye. If looks could poison, Wynter was certain Razi would have dropped to the floor and writhed to his death in the dirt.
‘The Haun would have much to be grateful for if the Corsairs and the Wolves pull the Sultan from his throne,’ snarled Le Garou. ‘When he is no longer in charge, this kingdom will no longer have an ally in the Moroccan court and the Haun need have no fear of reprisals when they ride in here and rape your land. They would be so very, very grateful to my father for this, al-Sayyid. So grateful. They have already offered to give what is left of this kingdom to those who helped them gain power. And my father and his allies will merrily divide it among themselves. The Corsairs will receive the Southland ports and free rein over those damned shipping lanes of your father’s. The Loups-Garous will gain dominion over the port road. And the Haun?’ The Wolf grinned, too wide a grin, with too many teeth, and his eyes darkened until there was no colour left in them at all. ‘The Haun will simply let loose on the Europes, for sport, to see what they can get.’
Wynter’s hand tightened on Coriolanus’s back, and the cat shuddered and mewed softly in fear.
‘But I can halt all that,’ said Le Garou. ‘With one or two words from me, it all falls down; the Moroccan throne will be safe, the Southlands will remain secure. All I ask in return is a home of my own.’
‘Lies,’ said Razi.
Le Garou slid his dark gaze to him again, and Alberon turned to regard his brother with open interest.
‘The Corsairs have lost all their supporters,’ said Razi. ‘Thanks to the Sultan’s reforms, even their old Slawi allies have turned against them. They are adrift at sea – portless, friendless outlaws, desperate for a haven. And the Wolves? You are as you always were: a loose alliance of disparate packs, some strong, some weak, too rabid ever to come together long enough to act as one.’
Alberon frowned at Le Garou and Wynter could see that he was listening, really listening to Razi’s words. Hope rose in her chest as she saw the Prince regard the Wolf with new eyes.
Razi went calmly on. ‘The Sultan’s enemies have no strength, David, and you know it. Your father and his allies are naught but noisy, squabbling bandits and rabbletrash. They have no hope of uniting a force strong enough to topple the Moroccan throne. You have come here with nothing but empty words, and have hoped to build an empire upon them. You will not succeed.’
‘Do you really expect the Prince to listen to you?’ growled Le Garou. ‘You, who has set your arse on a velvet cushion this last five years while your little brother has hacked his way through your father’s enemies?’
‘No,’ warned Alberon, pointing a finger at the Wolf. ‘That is enough.’
‘You?’ continued Le Garou, snarling at Razi despite Alberon’s obvious disapproval. ‘How dare you accuse me of empty words, when all you ever have is words? You gelded calf!’ he cried, slapping the table. ‘You ball-less bint! Do not force me to test you, al-Sayyid. I would tear your throat with a look!’
Alberon surged to his feet, and David sat back, suddenly aware that he had gone too far. Wynter was utterly certain, then, that Razi had won. Alberon’s rage convinced her so. Then Razi made his terrible mistake, and two angry sentences brought the Prince’s wrath swinging back around to fall on his brother: ‘You will not use my brother’s foolishness as a tool to further your own ends,’ said Razi to the Wolf. ‘I will not let you.’
As soon as he had uttered them, Wynter could see that Razi wished the words unsaid. His eyes widened, and he all but slapped his hand across his mouth. But the damage was done. Alberon’s rage turned cold. Le Garou’s uncertainty became a grin, and the battle was lost.