It seemed that Lord Sylvain’s prediction that there would be no time to take tea with him that day was correct. A few hours after dinner, Cameron and Sophie were summoned to Eloisa’s council, the message requesting their presence delivered by no less a person than Lord Sylvain himself.
“We have made a little progress,” Master Egan said once the council had seated themselves and the queen had requested that he explain why they were there. Not that any of them truly needed an explanation. Everyone knew that Master Egan was in charge of the investigation into the attack. “Earlier today, we had cause to examine one of the pieces of rubble more closely, thanks to Lady Scardale. She had a reaction to the stone, and Lord Sylvain drew our attention to it. I can confirm there’s part of an Illvyan scriptii on the stone that Lady Scardale reacted to.”
The assembled councilors looked grim at the Illusioner’s announcement, but none of them looked overly surprised. Cameron watched Eloisa, more concerned with her reaction than any others. After all, the queen was the one who could drag the country to war if she chose.
Beside him, Sophie was silent, sitting upright in her chair as though poised to flee. He moved his knee under the table slightly to touch hers. It wouldn’t be politic to take her hand, but he still wanted to give her what comfort he could.
“You’re one hundred percent certain?” Liam asked when no one else spoke.
Master Egan nodded impatiently. “I could show you if you wish. But we have the stone under ward now. It would take time to fetch it.”
“That isn’t necessary,” Eloisa said. “Your word on the matter is enough, Master Egan.”
“We must act,” Domina Skey said abruptly. “An Illvyan scriptii on the stone proves that Illvyan magic was involved. That Illvyan agents are at work.”
“What exactly do you think it is we should do?” Lord Sylvain asked. He wasn’t an active member of the council, though he had served King Stefan as councilor early in the king’s reign. But he had accompanied Sophie and Cameron to the meeting when Master Egan insisted that they be there to explain what had happened. It seemed no one wanted to eject him. “We have proof of Illvyan magic, yes. But we have no idea of who placed the scriptii there. Or whom they were working with. That’s hardly solid basis for starting a war.”
The Domina gave him a poisonous look. “Illvyan magic is abomination. The perpetrators must be found and punished. And we must show Illvya that we will not stand idly and let them attack us.”
“I don’t disagree with you on that point,” Lord Sylvain said. “I just disagree that we need to punish everybody. The goddess advocates mercy; does she not?”
“Not to mention that the trade delegation is not due to start home for several more days. If you make warlike noises right now, you’ll sacrifice all of them. And the goods they bring,” Lord Airlight said.
That brought another babble of people talking over one another. Cameron rubbed his neck where the muscles were pulling tight. Sophie had been right. They should have just stayed in bed. He could be making love to his wife right now instead of them both being embroiled smack-dab in the middle of the investigation into the attack, bringing even more attention upon themselves.
At the opposite end of the long council table, Commander Peters looked thoroughly exasperated. Cameron began to count in his head, and before he reached five, the commander bellowed, “Silence!”
The room went quiet, only the slightly plaintive voice of the new Erl of Farkeep, who’d finally arrived in Kingswell the day after the coronation, saying, “I still don’t understand how she knew it was Illvyan . . .” breaking the silence.
Cameron fought the urge to roll his eyes. The new erl was about a year older than Sophie and apparently had been to the capital exactly once in his life. Hopefully, the lad would find himself a mentor in the ways of the court sooner rather than later. He needed to start learning fast or he would be the first one banished from Eloisa’s council, and the Farkeep family’s fall would be rapid after that.
“My Lord Farkeep,” Eloisa said, breaking her silence. “Lady Scardale is a royal witch. Chosen of the goddess. Illvyan magic—scriptii, at least—is anathema to the goddess. Her magic sensed the disturbance from that.”
It was a pat enough explanation. Lord Farkeep wasn’t a battle mage, so he didn’t understand how magic worked. He was a third cousin of the old erl, and he’d been living quietly on a very tiny estate with his family somewhere in Caloteen sheep country. The explanation would suffice for now, if the erl had the sense to ask no more questions on the subject, having had it explained twice now. Across the table, Lord Sylvain caught Cameron’s eye, and Cameron remembered what he had promised. That he would bring Sophie to see the old man. Obviously, there was something more he had to tell them. Cameron was going to make damned sure they got the chance to hear what he had to say.
If they ever got out of the council hall. It was already past nine. It had taken time to assemble the council after Master Egan had sent the news to the queen and then more time for the Illusioners to perform whatever tests it was they had to confirm the small dark line carved into the stone was indeed an Illvyan scriptii and not some line left by one of the destroyed ornamental metalwork that had decorated the hall or something similar.
And the meeting showed no signs of ending anytime soon.
“But how the magic was discovered is a secondary consideration,” the queen continued. “What matters now is that we have discovered it. And I am forced to agree with Lord Sylvain. It is too early for retaliation.”
“Your Majesty, you should seize the advantage—” the Domina started to say, but Eloisa cut her off with a sharp gesture.
“We will not fight. Not yet.”