Page 44 of Among the Burning Flowers
‘I would not have called you here if I were not.’
Gaspart barked a laugh. ‘Is Sigoso mad, or drunk?’
‘Was it sent by dove?’ Aubrecht asked. ‘Or did a rider come?’
All he could do was pretend this was real, even if his mind rebelled against the notion.
‘It came by dove, in the usual manner,’ Liuthe said. ‘As toyourquestion, Gaspart, I know that King Sigoso does not indulge in wine or beer. You could not find a man less likely to be drunk.’
‘Or to pledge allegiance to the Nameless One, presumably. And yet.’ Gaspart reached for his glass. ‘Well, he wouldn’t be the first monarch to lose his wits.’
‘It may be a forgery,’ Clothild said in her reasonable manner. ‘A foolish stab at a jape.’
Aubrecht frowned. ‘What sort of fool would risk his own head for a jape?’
‘A very committed jester,’ Gaspart remarked. ‘In all seriousness,doesCárscaro have a court jester?’
‘The letterisfrom King Sigoso. I recognise his seal and hand,’ Liuthe said, with conviction. ‘Unless his signet ring has been stolen or forged, which I cannot imagine, these are his words.’
Aubrecht imagined his composure as a nervous steed, to be calmed with a steady hand, but he suddenly felt very cold.
‘Aunt,’ Ermuna said, ‘I have a thought I mislike.’ She looked around the chamber. ‘What if a High Western has awakened in Cárscaro?’
A brief silence followed, during which Liuthe furrowed her brow.
‘The High City sits on the hip of Mount Fruma,’ Ermuna went on, returning all their gazes. ‘If you were a wyrm as large as they were said to be, would you not choose a mountain to sleep in?’
‘The alchemists of Svartal have noticed more and more tremors in the Spindles,’ Aubrecht said, thinking back to the letters. ‘Not only that, but … the Draconic sleepers of Edin have been stirring for years. It is not widely known, but several officials have informed Granduncle. They ascribe it to people accidentally disturbing the creatures, but now I wonder.’
Clothild narrowed her eyes. ‘Why did you not say, coz?’
‘I did not want to scare anyone.’
‘Aubrecht, we mustallknow everything. That is the strength of the House of Lievelyn.’
‘It could be Fýredel himself,’ Aleidine said, distracting them. ‘Surely his awakening would rouse them all.’
‘Orsul and Valeysa had their own wyverns,’ Ermuna said. ‘It could be any of the three.’
Aubrecht looked back at his sister, whose jaw was tight. She had studied the Grief of Ages since they were children, trying to understand the cause of the devastation. To no avail.
‘Mentendon is prepared. Edvart made sure of it,’ Liuthe said. ‘Fýredel will not expect us to have rifles and war machines, nor ships with cannon and chainshot, nor any of the other defences we have invented since the Grief. Mentendon is even fortunate enough to have bed crossbows, thanks to Seiiki. The wyrm anticipates easy prey, but this time, we are ready to bite back.’
‘And is Granduncle ready to lead us?’ Aubrecht asked the chamber. ‘Is he our Glorian Shieldheart?’
There was a deafening silence.
‘Well,’ Gaspart said, clearing his throat, ‘will gunpowder work on the wyrms, do you think?’
‘It certainly works on sleepers,’ Clothild said. ‘Mother has used it to clear them from her land. The force of the explosion injures or destroys them.’
‘The sleepers are part animal,’ Aubrecht reminded her. ‘The wyverns and wyrms are … pure fire, pure Dreadmount.’
‘I believe the same principle will apply. Two High Westerns were slain during the Grief.’
‘While we imagine ways to kill wyrms, we must declare war on Yscalin,’ Ermuna said. ‘It would be one thing if the Vetalda had simply renounced the Saint, but to have openly declared allegiance to the Nameless One?’
‘Ermuna.’ Aubrecht shook his head. ‘You cannot think the Yscals would do this by choice.’
