Page 41 of Angel in Absentia
It had to do with her journey. She stayed next to Myken as if his very presence might trigger the thought.
It dawned on her then.
“Ryson’s weapon,” she said, starting to think through all of the implications. “The one he carried when he found me. Myken, you recognized it, knew what it meant. It’s not just a blade—it’sa mark of who he is. Who hewas. An Insednian of power, you said. Any idea how much?”
“No,” Myken said, watching her pace back and forth, “but they are rare and his was especially strange.”
She paused, pointing at him, “Myken, you’re an Insednian now,” she declared.
“I am n—” he started.
“Listen to me,” she replied. “Unless you want to die with the rest of us like you say.”
He closed his mouth.
“That weapon seems like it works like some kind of identification. I still have it. I sent it to Ruedom. Quietly. For examination. Ruedom is a day’s ride. I can be there and back in a couple of days. A Venennin withthatweapon in tow…and captive Veilin alongside him…that might earn us an audience with the Insednians, maybe even access to their new Warlord of Shambelin.”
Myken blinked, stunned. “What in all of madness are you thinking? You would use me?”
“Who would you rather cooperate with?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Savage Insednians who want to enslave you, or Veilin who want to survive?”
“What are you suggesting?” Myken prodded, leaning forward against the chains.
“If what you’re saying is true,” Clea said, “then the Ashanas and Insednians are on a collision course with us at the center. Ifwe wait, we’re vulnerable. If we split our forces in half, we’re vulnerable. The only option is a preemptive attack. Send a small team against the Insednians, say, a ruse clever enough to garner an audience with their leader. You, an Insednian with a silver tongue and a powerful weapon, could open doors for us. Their leader dies, and the Insednians crumble, just like they did the first time. We then keep the bulk of our forces in Loda to face off against the Ashanas.”
She didn’t wait for his approval but turned and yanked the door open again, eager to enter the High Council debate with her own offerings in tow. It felt as if all along she’d been waiting for the Insednians to declare themselves. She was ready. This was where her past journey with Ryson might not only have merits for her but also for her people.
“That’s mad,” Myken called after her. “You’re talking about an assassination!”
“There is only one way to find out!” she replied before rushing off. She shouted over her shoulder, “Practice your Kaletik speech, Myken! I have a feeling you’ll be needing it, if you do want to survive after all!”
†††
“That’s mad!” Ignat declared, and Clea rubbed the back of her neck.
The High Council was rocked into a discursive fever. There was an explosion of opinions and debate as to what approach to take with the Ashanas and Insednians. Stances were argued furiously, questions flung far afield, until her father, in good health and volume, took a stand around the table and the room quieted.
Present were her father, Dae, Yvan, Idan, Catagard, and the three other chief councils, Ivy, Ignat, and Fillip. To Clea’s delight, Ivy had sided with her more aggressive approach. Catagard had wanted to adjourn the meeting altogether and give them room to further verify reports. Ignat debated bolstering their defenses, while Fillip was insistent on securing reinforcements from Idan, who was oddly silent on the entire matter. Yvan, with rare reserve, watched the Lodain debates unfold, keeping her arms crossed as she remained poised against the back wall.
“We have agreed on two things,” her father said as he began to close the afternoon’s debates. “An attack from the Ashanas and the Insednians is only a matter of time. We cannot sit back in anticipation. No defense can withstand them both in close sequence. This leaves us with only one option in my mind: a preemptive strike. The lands to the south are unlivable and wrought with curses that have long been barriers, but Shambelin we know well. We must advance on the Insednians before they advance on us,” he explained, backing many of the points she’d made to Myken earlier.
“So, can we agree on utilizing Myken?” Clea asked, raising the issue again. It was strange to have her father and Ivy agree with her so publicly when they were often the most difficult parties to convince.
The group exchanged glances around the table, some of them looking down at the pieces on the board speculatively.
“Ivy?” Clea prodded.
The steely-eyed woman took a deep breath and folded her ringed fingers in her lap. “It’s an immense risk. I can’t tell if it betters orworsens our chances. I would be hesitant to send any of my own with a Venennin into the woods. We know little of his loyalties. He may sell us out as soon as he gets the chance.”
Clea looked across the room, now hunched over the table, her hands on either side. A tense silence waited in the wake of the decision.
“You know you’ve bossed us around more since stepping down as royalty, right?” Dae pointed out with a surprising edge of humor that cracked the tension in the room, offering some much-needed relief. Clea realized then that without meaning to and in her haste, she’d hustled into her father’s chair. Everyone had been so caught up in the disruptive nature of the news and how to manage it that there had been no formality to the start of this war council. She leaned back, realizing this, and glanced at him.
He offered a humored smile, a smile she’d only ever seen when one of her siblings had done something with that kind of boldness he’d always sought to foster, a kind of boldness she’d often avoided.
“This meeting was important,” Clea defended. “I didn’t think seating mattered.”
“No, you’re finally embracing leadership,” Dae said with some measure of honesty. “I kind of expected you to go in the opposite direction.”
