Page 253 of The Priory of the Orange Tree

“Tell me,” Ead went on, without explaining, “have you heard from High Princess Ermuna?”

“Yes,” Sabran said. “She will have the date for me presently.”

“Good. The Nameless One will rise from the Abyss on that day, and even if we donotunite the sword and jewels, we must still be there to drive him away while he is still weak from his slumber.”

Loth frowned. “To where? And how?”

“Across the Halassa Sea, or beyond the Gate of Ungulus. If evil must exist, let it not be in our bosom.” She looked Sabran in the eye. “We cannot carry out either of these plans alone.”

Sabran sat back.

“You mean for us to call upon the East,” she conjectured. “Just as Lady Truyde wanted.”

An end to a centuries-long estrangement. Only Ead would have dared propose it to a Berethnet.

“When I first learned of her plan, I thought Lady Truyde reckless and dangerous,” Ead said, voice tinged with regret. “Now I see her courage was higher than ours. The Eastern dragons are made of sterren, and while they may not be able to destroy the Nameless One, their powers—however strong or weak—will help us drive him back. To split the Draconic forces, you could also ask your fellow sovereigns to create a diversion.”

“They might well help,” Loth cut in, “but the Easterners will never parley with us.”

“Seiiki trades with Mentendon. And the Easterners may help Inys if you make them an offer they cannot refuse.”

“Tell me, Ead.” Sabran looked unmoved. “What should I offer the heretics of the East?”

“The first alliance with Virtudom in history.”

The Council Chamber fell silent as a crypt.

“No,” Loth said firmly. “This is too much. Nobody is going to stand for this. Not the Virtues Council, not the people, and not me.”

“You just now advocated for us all to stop thinking of each other as heretics.” Margret crossed her arms. “Did you bang your head without my noticing in the last few minutes, brother?”

“I meant people onthisside of the Abyss. The Easterners venerate wyrms. It is not the same, Meg.”

“The Eastern dragons are not our enemies, Loth. I used to believe they were,” Ead said, “but I did not understand the duality our world is built on. They are opposite in nature to infernal things like Fýredel.”

Loth snorted. “You begin to sound like an alchemist. Have you ever met an Eastern wyrm?”

“No.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Have you?”

“I do not need to meet them to know that they have forced the East to worship them. I will not kneel at the altar of heresy.”

“They may not force worship,” Margret mused. “Perhaps they share a mutual respect with the Easterners.”

“Do you hear yourself, Margret?” Loth said, appalled. “They arewyrms.”

“The East also fears the Nameless One,” Ead said. “Each of our religions agrees that he is the enemy.”

“And the enemy of the enemy is a potential friend,” Margret agreed.

Loth bit his tongue. If the foundations of his faith were struck once more, they might come tumbling down.

“You do not know what you ask, Ead.” When Sabran spoke, her voice sounded too heavy to lift. “We have kept our distance from the East because of their heresy, yes—but to my understanding, the Easterners closed the door first, out of fear of the plague. I will not be able to persuade them to join us without making them a very generous offer in return.”

“The banishment of the Nameless One will profit us all,” Ead said. “The East did not escape the Grief of Ages, and it will not escape this.”

“But its people might buy themselves time to prepare while we lay our heads upon the block,” Sabran pointed out.

A bird landed outside. Loth glanced at the balcony, hoping to see a rock dove with a letter. A crow looked back at him.

---