Page 53 of A Fate Unwoven
It was Wryn who leaned forward in her seat, gold rings glinting against her dark skin in the glow of the candlelight. Like the rest ofthem, Wryn had been a member of his father’s Council for as long as Dimas could remember, and her family had been loyal to the Empire ever since arriving from across the sea centuries ago. “With all due respect, Your High—Your Majesty,” Wryn began, “the people are growing restless. They have been eagerly awaiting Lady Sefwyn’s return from her isolation; to find out that she has died without having seen their new Fateweaver will undoubtedly cause further unrest.”
A fresh wave of darkness clouded Dimas’s eyes. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose. He couldn’t lose them now.
“Lady Lenora will greet the people when she is ready. In the meantime, I believe there is another matter that needs discussing.” Dimas turned to the general. “I was informed by Brother Dunstan that my father asked you to send soldiers to investigate rumors ofHæstasightings near Kostyre. Is this true?”
Mirena’s expression barely changed, but Dimas didn’t miss the slight tightening of her jaw. This was a mission the general, like his father, hadn’t wanted the prince to know about. “It is.”
“And what have they learned?” Dimas pressed.
“Not much,” the general responded. “So far, all our leads have been dead ends; it’s likely just heretics spreading rumors to incite fear.”
“Perhaps, but as I am sure the regent has already informed you, we were attacked by someone using theHæsta’s symbol on our journey. They killed Aldryn.”
They’d put his body to the pyre before leaving the outpost to head for Deyecia, and the sudden phantom scent of burning flesh and ash made Dimas feel sick.
“Aldryn was a good kid,” Mirena said, her voice cutting through the heavy silence, “and whoever killed him will pay. But we have no proof theHæstadid it. Anyone could adopt their symbol to make it look like they’re to blame.”
True, but considering his Fateweaver was a heretic and Milos’s hunters had been attacked by creatures from legend, Dimas wasn’t sosure. And there was still the lingering issue of his shadows appearing during his moments of connection with Lenora.
The only other person he’d told about his theory beside Ioseph was Iska. His cousin had immediately agreed to search the church’s archives for any mention of something similar happening before, but if Dimas could get his hands on a member of theHæstato question …
“It is imperative we find the people claiming to be this cult as soon as possible. As such, we will be requesting Milos and a handful of his best hunters aid your soldiers with their investigation.”
General Alræn’s cheeks darkened “Are you insinuating that my soldiers aren’t capable?”
The room was deadly silent. Dimas wanted nothing more than to shrink into the shadows. If this had been his father’s order, no one—not even the general—would have questioned him.
Which was why he had to hold his ground. If he wanted the court’s respect, he had to earn it.
“Not at all, General, but we can cover more ground with more soldiers, and the Fist were trained for missions such as this, were they not?”
At their core, the Fist were divine hunters, trained to seek out heretics. Whilst the general’s soldiers were loyal to the crown, the Fist were loyal to the Church of Næbya itself. Roston himself had been one, back in his fighting days.
The muscles in Mirena’s jaw tensed. “They were, Your Majesty. But your father thought it best to keep them out of this until we knew more; send them in too early, with no proof, and the common folks will be unsettled.”
The edges of Dimas’s vision were almost completely black now. His father was dead, and still it was his voice, his rule, the court held above all else.
“I understand,” Dimas said, “but given the attack on the road, I believe these rumors hold some truth. Even if it isn’t theHæstawe’refacing, it is still a group of rebels committing heresy in their name. We need to quell this quickly.”
“Milos is one of the most dedicated members of the Empire’s Fist I have ever had the pleasure of training,” Roston added, the pride in his voice twisting a still-open wound deep in Dimas’s core. “He will ensure the mission is undertaken with the utmost discretion. If we are to root out this heresy, my son is our best chance at doing so.”
The tightness in Mirena’s jaw didn’t ease, but she said, “Very well. I will see it done.”
“Then the matter is settled,” said Dimas, the pain beyond his eyes making his stomach churn. “Is there anything else I should know about?”
Mirena and his uncle exchanged a not-so-subtle glance.
Roston cleared his throat. “We received a letter from a Verlondian ambassador. He is on his way to Wyrecia to discuss treaty negotiations.”
Dimas held back a groan. The relationship between Wyrecia and Verlond was … complicated.
Queen Rheda, the first Queen of Verlond, had settled her clan to the south, where the lands were rich with stone and metal. She built her stronghold around the mountain, and it was rumored her people kept Wyrecia’s forces at bay with old magics. On her lands, the Fateweaver’s powers were diminished. Likewise,razeniye, the only natural resource known to suppress magical abilities flourished. A looming threat to the Fateweaver’s powers. One that Verlond had guarded fiercely over the years.
Dimas’s father had failed at several treaty attempts with the current monarch, Queen Anja. That Verlond was willing to negotiatenow,just as a new Fateweaver was coming into power, was more than a little concerning.
“Surely the ambassador will postpone the visit if we inform him of my father’s and Lady Sefwyn’s passing?” Dimas asked.
“No doubt Queen Anja is already awaresomethingis wrong, what with your father’s and Lady Sefwyn’s continued absence from court. Iimagine this is simply a ruse so she can get one of her spies in to sniff about.” Roston sighed. “Besides, it is too late to ask her to postpone; the ambassador is already en route and is due to arrive by the end of the week.”
