“Absolutely not, Corwin. The high council has already determined—”
“The last I checked, the high council does not rule Norgard or Rime. Their purpose is to advise the king, not make the decisions for him.”
“Yes, but you are not the king,” Edwin said.
“Neither are you, brother.” Corwin held up his right hand, palm out so that his uror mark was clearly visible. “But this says I might be, one day. And that is all the authority I need.”
With that, Corwin turned on his heel and strode from the meeting room, not giving either man the chance to argue.
Once Corwin had made up his mind to act, the decision as to what to do next came surprisingly easily. He went to Minister Fletcher first and ordered two supply wagons be prepared. Then he went to Minister Knox to start selecting his most capable soldiers for the mission. Finally, he sought out Bonner. He needed to know just how many revolvers were fieldworthy before he talked to the blue robes about providing defensive magic.
Corwin headed to the forge and found several blacksmiths still hard at work, their faces red and their tunics sweat soaked, and Bonner not among them. Feeling his irritation growing, he crossed the forge toward Bonner’s private workroom in the back. The door was closed, but he heard voices inside.
Corwin resisted the urge to barge in and knocked on the door instead. “Bonner, it’s Corwin. I need to speak with you.”
The door opened a few seconds later, Bonner’s face peering out at him with a look of sheepish surprise. “Come in, your highness. Had no idea you’d be coming by today.”
“Neither did—” The words died on Corwin’s lips as his eyes fell on Kate. She was in the far corner of the room, her arms folded tightly around her waist. She met his gaze for a second, then looked away, a hint of red in her cheeks.
She wasn’t Bonner’s only visitor. Signe was there, and so was Master Raith. You again, Corwin thought, remembering how the magist had come to Kate’s aid the night she’d visited the brothel. That made twice now he’d found the magist in close proximity to Kate when all reason said he shouldn’t be.
“What are you doing here, Master Raith?” Corwin asked.
Raith, who’d been leaning against one of the worktables, straightened up and adjusted his blue robes across his shoulders. “I wanted to see how the revolver making was going, your highness. My order has a keen interest in seeing it succeed.”
I doubt the grand master would agree with you, Corwin thought. He’s wanted them to fail from the beginning, more concerned with maintaining his profit than solving Rime’s problems. Still, he was glad to have Raith’s support at least.
“I see. Well, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve need of your blue robes once more.” He launched into the story about Dal’s brother and the attack on Thornewall. Without meaning to, his gaze kept drifting toward Kate as he spoke.
By the time he reached the end of the story, her face had clouded over with worry. “What are you going to do?”
Corwin scowled and ran a hand through his hair. “Edwin planned to send a scouting party, but it’s not enough. I mean to lead a supply caravan and make sure it gets there safely. Dal’s brother said the people are starving. There’s no telling how long they’ve been trapped.” Thornewall was isolated and difficult to reach, located among the cliffs that covered the farthest eastern point of Rime. Which is why it was so easy to pen them in, Corwin realized—only why would the Rising attack Thornewall? It had no strategic value to the high king, unlike some of the other sites of the attacks. Dal and Edwin were right on that account—the barony mattered little to the power of Norgard.
Corwin turned to Raith. “Will you help me, Master Raith?”
“Of course,” Raith said without hesitation. He ran a blackened finger over his nose and cheeks, unconsciously tracing the lines of the Shade Born on his face. It was the first time Corwin had seen the man do such a thing. “But even more important than getting the supplies there, this might be just the opportunity we need to finally discover what—or who—is behind these drake attacks.”
“How do you mean?” Corwin asked, not daring to hope after so many failures.
Raith’s gaze wandered across the room, briefly lingering on Kate before he turned back to Corwin. “If I remember the geography of Thornewall correctly, the only path to the castle is through a narrow pass with sheer cliff walls on either side. That limits where someone controlling the drakes could be. If we position scouts out of view of the caravan, we might be able to catch them.”
“But won’t we be attacked?” Signe said, stepping forward.
Corwin arched an eyebrow at her. “We?”
She gave him a haughty look. “I’m coming. You’re going to need all the help you can get to save Dal’s family.”
Corwin nodded, grateful for the offer and what it would mean to Dal.
“I have devised a new shield spell,” Raith said. “It should protect against a drake without the need for a dedicated wardstone, long enough, at least, for our scouts to get back to the caravan and the safety of the main wardstone barrier.”
Corwin addressed Bonner. “We’ll need all the revolvers you can provide.” He paused, then added, “And are safe to use.”
Bonner nodded, a pink tinge coming to his ears. “I’ve six or seven now, but if I get to work right away I might be able to finish up two more.”
“Whatever you can manage.” Corwin thumped him on the back, praying for a miracle. He turned to Raith. “We’ll need flash stones as well and any other combative spells that might help.” Corwin could practically hear Minister Porter complaining about the cost already, but he didn’t care.
“I’m coming, too,” Kate said, moving to stand next to Signe.
Corwin opened his mouth to argue, then closed it, knowing there was no point. She did not belong to him; she was not his to shelter.
“Good,” he forced himself to say. “You’re the best shot with the revolver. That will come in handy.”
Kate’s face was unreadable. “When do we leave?”
“At dawn.” Corwin turned to go, his mind racing with all he needed to do yet, but he froze as a figure appeared in the doorway. It was Dal, but Corwin barely recognized him—the look on his face like that of a ghost, pale and devoid of all emotion.
“We’re leaving for Thornewall in the morning?” Dal asked, his voice low and inflectionless.
“Yes,” Corwin said, “but you should stay here and see to your brother.”
Dal shook his head. “There’s no point. My brother is dead.”
25
Kate
KATE HAD NEVER BEFORE BEEN plagued with such doubt. Not even in those terrible days after her father’s arrest. She’d been in a daze all week since first meeting Kiran and learning the truth about why her father had been in King Orwin’s chambers that morning. She still didn’t know why he’d attacked the king when he had only gone there to influence his decision about the Inquisition, but she was closer than ever before to understanding.
The Rising. It seemed impossible. Her father had never expressed concerns over other wilders to her, not even to acknowledge their existence. It was always just him and Kate, father and daughter, two wilders in hiding against the world. But maybe Hale’s attitude had changed and Kate had never noticed. She couldn’t deny things were different after Queen Imogen was killed by that wilder. Perhaps it had an impact. Or maybe it was Vianne and Kiran who opened her father’s eyes to the larger world. If so, she understood, given the cruel living conditions Kiran was forced to endure.