Miestri’s voice was light, almost musical. “It is a pity – but necessary. It is still too early to let the top spin out by itself without any coaxing. And I discovered the hall below the tunnels where the Silvan Records were kept. They date back half a millenium, so we may find what you’ve been searching for. The information about the Crystal will certainly be very useful now.”
“But it is information that Lord Ballinaire could also use,” he warned. “The fool is going to get himself killed this time. No more border raids, no more splintered agreements. He’s digging a hole deep enough to bury us all.” He shook his head angrily. “We’ve come too far for him to ruin everything.”
“He just may live, Stanjel. What if he discovers the secret of the Everoot?”
“Isn’t that why you are staying then?” Dairron reminded her. “Make sure that he doesn’t. And make sure the other Sorian doesn’t convince him to abandon the idea. Not only did Mage look shocked, but greensick as well. He knows everything about that plant. Who is to say he doesn’t know about the Crystal as well?”
“Don’t fear the old man,” Miestri replied. “He is waning. And when he falls, I will take his dominion. He never knew about the Crystal. He never knew what the Shae did to protect it. That is our advantage. Just be sure your army never leaves the mountains, General. I will meet you in Vale when it is time to take command of the Bandit Rebellion.”
Dairron shook his head and chuckled. “You saw Ballinaire last night – he doesn’t consider the Shae a threat! When they find out, every Crimson Wolfsman in the whole banned eastern forest will be down here with the Silvan high army behind. If my plan is going to work, I don’t want them finding out too soon. Nor do I want any needlessly killed. Laisha Silverborne won’t support me if she thinks the Bandit Rebellion are nothing but Shae-killers.” He paused. “Unless we can get her to believe that Dos-Aralon is.”
“I’ve already begun the arrangements,” Miestri said. She cocked her head. “Your care for Silverborne’s daughter is quite beyond me. You know it is Forbidden to the Shae to cavort with you.” Her voice was low, seductive. “Is Laisha truly worth all that trouble?”
“She is worth any trouble. Prince of Fire, not only is she fair, but cunning, too! She rules that kingdom, not her father. We have always fought against the Shae, Miestri. If we manage it right, they will fight for us.” He nodded to her escort. “And not just the Shae from the Wilderness of Vale, but all of Avisahn.”
Dujahn stopped breathing. This was worth even more than he thought. Folkes was an idiot – he would never rule the Rebellion. It would be Dairron and Miestri – he knew it instinctively. This was the kind of plotting that the East Kingdoms did, not some out-of-the-way protected vassalage. The scheming was cold and utterly ruthless. Dujahn loved it.
Miestri bowed her head. “As I have said, I am already engaged in that effort.”
“Good.” He rubbed his lip. “The meeting with Lord Ballinaire changed our previous plan, but it can also help us.” He folded his gloved hands together over his mouth. “Ballinaire is leaning over the edge of the pit he’s dug. I want to do what I can to push him in.”
“Indeed,” Miestri agreed. “What else would you have me do, General?”
Dairron pointed north, away from the city. “One small favor. The Shoreland regiment is camped in the Shadows Wood. While Mage hurries to Sol, do what you can to stir dissension in the regiment. See how many officers and Kiran Thall will follow you. Cause some havoc,” he added with a grin. “You’re so good at that.”
She laughed. “That would prove entertaining. Ballinaire is preoccupied with hoarding his find in the swamp. He won’t know what I’m doing.”
The Bandit General smiled. “Then I will prepare in the Kingshadow. You are my eyes and ears in Landmoor. I especially want to know how he reacts to what we do.”
“What about Folkes?” she asked with a little yawn. “He knows something is happening.”
“Leave Folkes to me. Either he joins us or the Duke of Owen Draw and the Governor of Iniva hangs him on a rope. I’ll give him a chance to decide.”
“Be sure you teach him the consequences.” She smiled, and touched Dairron’s arm affectionately. “Safe journey, General,” she said with a nod and stepped back a few paces. “These beasts hate the moors. You had better go. But if you fly near Avisahn again, be sure to stay out of bow range. They may be waiting for you with their own alerion this time.”
The Dragonshrike twisted its shoulder to the grass and Dairron gripped the leather harness and pulled himself onto the saddle as it straightened itself. Cinching the leather straps around his legs, he looked down at the black-robed woman with midnight dark hair and gave her an etched smile.
“If there are, I will deal with them. Remember why we are here,” he said from above, offering her a simple nod.