Page 46 of Among the Burning Flowers
‘You think Sigoso the Pious has made some unholy connexion to a wyrm?’ Clothild cast the ambassador a cold look. ‘Surely not.’
‘Certainly not,’ Lady Sennera said.
‘He may have been coerced,’ Aleidine said in calming tones, ‘but … if I am right, I fear everyone around His Majesty is in grave danger.’ She looked at Aubrecht. ‘Even his family.’
Aubrecht met her gaze, remembering the next part of the book.
Marosa.
‘This Eastern tale has no bearing on Yscalin,’ Lady Sennera stated. ‘We all know the Seiikinese revere wyrms. This man of whom you speak most likely opened his mind to its trickery.’
‘Lady Sennera.’ Clothild sighed. ‘The Seiikinese do not worship—’
‘We know precisely what they worship, thank you, Lady Clothild. But my king never would.’
‘For his sake, I hope not, Your Excellency.’ Aleidine put on her eyeglasses. ‘May I see the letter?’
Liuthe passed it along the table. As Lady Sennera watched it change hands, her expression changed, and Aubrecht saw the worry beneath that layer of Yscali pride and arrogance.
‘Your Highnesses,’ she said, ‘I trust that Mentendon will not move against Yscalin.’
There was a brief, tense silence.
‘Chance would be a fine thing,’ Gaspart said cheerfully, breaking it. ‘We barely have an army.’
‘Gaspart,’ Clothild hissed.
‘The decision lies with His Royal Highness,’ Aleidine said. ‘We should wake him, Liuthe.’
‘Only the Queen of Inys can declare holy war,’ Liuthe reminded her. ‘Where she goes, Leovart must follow, but I do not know what she will make of this turn of events. If Sigoso speaks true, the blow to the Chainmail would be catastrophic – but if the wyrms have woken, they will exact revenge upon all of humankind. We must protectourpeople, as is our duty.’
‘We could enter the caves, as our forebears did,’ Gaspart said, sobering. ‘Mentendon has many.’
Aubrecht could no longer speak. He was sliding into the past again, to the sickroom where Betriese was dying.
Ever since that night, his dominant instinct had been to protect his sisters from anything in the world that would harm them. Now he was the heir, that instinct needed to stretch much farther, to cover all of Mentendon. He had to be more courageous than Leovart.
‘Perhaps we should watch and wait,’ Clothild said. ‘There may be more to this. We should consult with the rest of Virtudom to see if they received the same message from King Sigoso.’
Clothild was always first to call for temperance in a crisis, not wanting to show any hint of Northern recklessness. Aubrecht understood, but it would not do. They could not sit idle.
‘We cannot afford to wait,’ he told her. ‘The Grief of Ages brought humankind to the brink of extinction. Our world has never recovered.’ He looked around the table. ‘I recommend we dispatch scouts to Yscalin. If Aleidine and Erma are right, the Yscals are at the mercy of a wyrm, and potentially, a monarch who does not mean to resist. We must help them.’
‘What can we do?’ Gaspart asked him. ‘A fencing match with Fýredel?’
‘Respectfully, Gaspart, what choice do we have?’ Aleidine said. ‘Lie down and burn?’
‘That might be a little easier, yes.’
‘Our ancestors fought the wyrms to the end,’ Aubrecht said firmly. ‘Regardless of past tensions and disagreements with Yscalin—’
‘You mean when they helped Hróth to press its hulking great snowboot on our necks for centuries?’
‘—its people are our fellow warriors in the Chainmail. We have a moral duty to aid our allies, as the Saint would have desired.’ Aubrecht rose. ‘To that end, while our intelligencers see what is happening in Yscalin, I will lead a small armed force to secure the Donmata.’
There was a brief silence, during which Gaspart huffed, as if he expected Aubrecht to laugh.
‘Aubrecht.’ Liuthe shook her head. ‘Are you suggesting that you go yourself?’
