“Yes. It was with the assistance of your servant the Duke of Brookspring that we were able to thwart him the last time he reached for power. It must surely be in the interests of both our nations that he be stopped again.”
“Of course.” Georg’s mustaches twitched in what might have been a smile. “It’s the duty of all civilized peoples to stand together against a tyrant, especially one as dangerous as Vhalnich has proven to be. We will not be found wanting in that duty. Borel will be at your side in this hour of need, never fear.”
Some unspoken cue prompted a short round of applause from the onlookers. Raesinia frowned. She’d hoped for an audience with less of, well, an audience, where Georg might be persuaded to speak a bit more candidly. Still, he seems willing. She bowed slightly in appreciation.
“Thank you. If your fleet can be assembled within the week, then—”
Georg cut her off with an upraised hand. “I must refer you to my advisers for the details. Fredrick?”
One of the men standing by stepped forward and bowed as low as his ample stomach would allow. “At your service, Your Majesty.”
“Please discuss the necessary arrangements with Queen Raesinia.”
“Of course.” Fredrick turned to Raesinia. He was heavily bewhiskered, eyes almost lost above a substantial nose. “If you’ll follow me?”
They had this planned. Raesinia smelled an ambush, but she had no choice except to smile graciously and go along. She checked reflexively to make sure Barely and Jo were still behind her, though she didn’t really expect to be physically assaulted. Fredrick hardly looks the type.
Sebastian, walking ahead of them, opened a door nearby. It led to a small sitting room, where two armchairs were positioned in front of a fire, already burning. A table between them held a silver tray of pastries.
“Have a seat, Your Highness,” Fredrick said. “I’m sure you’re tired from your journey.”
Cautiously, Raesinia settled into one of the chairs, and Fredrick lowered himself heavily into the other. He rubbed his knees with his palms, shaking his head.
“The knees are always the first to go, when you get to my age,” he said. “If you want my advice, Your Highness, you’ll enjoy them while they last.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Raesinia almost started when Sebastian appeared at her elbow, offering a glass of wine. She took it and sipped politely.
“Did you have good weather for your journey?”
“Tolerable,” Raesinia said. “Your captain made excellent time.”
“The courier captains pride themselves on it. And what do you think of Viadre?”
“I haven’t really gotten a good look,” Raesinia said. She sat up a little straighter. “Can we skip the small talk, please? It has been a long journey, and as I said to His Majesty, time is of the essence.”
“I see.” Fredrick gave a heavy sigh. “Fair enough.”
“You’re Fredrick Goodman, I take it?”
“Humble merchant and one of the Honest Fellows. At your service.”
And possibly the richest man in the world. “His Majesty seemed eager for us to work out the details of your assistance.”
“As to that,” Fredrick said. “My colleagues and I have been in conference with His Majesty since we received word of your arrival. While we of course sympathize with your situation, we agree that there are certain... injustices that must be redressed. Until that happens, Borelgai assistance to Vordan will be more in the character of moral support than anything... tangible.”
Raesinia narrowed her eyes. “What sort of injustices?”
“Financial ones.” Fredrick steepled his fingers. “To put it bluntly, Your Highness, you owe us a great deal of money. The Vordanai crown borrowed heavily from many upstanding citizens of Borel in the period before your father’s death.” His whiskers twitched. “You have my condolences, by the by. Afterward, your new... Deputies declared the debts of the previous government null and void. This was a source of great hardship in Viadre and no doubt contributed to our recent unpleasantness before you and the Duke of Brookspring resolved matters.”
“I’m sure something can be arranged as part of the treaty,” Raesinia said. “But aid must come first. Troops are in the field as we speak.”
“From my position, surely you must see why that seems unwise. Once Janus is defeated, what is to prevent your government from repeating its act of fiscal dereliction?” He shook his head. “No. The Honest Fellows are agreed. A firm pledge on the debt issue must come prior to any assistance.” Fredrick leaned forward, his smile showing yellowed teeth. “You must agree, that’s only reasonable?”
*
“...and you should see the system they have in the commodity pits,” Cora said. “There’s so many people packed in so tight, all shouting at once, that nobody can hear a damn thing. So the pit bosses take orders entirely by gesture. They have a whole language and hand signals, and it’s considered as binding as a paper contract! Can you imagine making an agreement to deliver a million bushels of wheat just by going like this?” She bent her fingers into an L shape and waggled her thumb.
“It’d certainly make me more likely to keep my hands in my pockets,” Raesinia said.
She was only half listening. Cora had been telling her about the wonders of the Viadre markets since she’d returned, and she required little more than the occasional nod to continue her gushing commentary. Raesinia’s mind kept returning to her brief meeting with the king.
I have to see him again. In private this time. Dorsay had been right about Fredrick Goodman. If he really represents the majority of the Honest Fellows, then our only chance is for the king to override them. But—
She became aware that Cora had stopped talking, and blinked. “Sorry. What?”
“I asked if you’d made any progress,” Cora said. “I know you said nothing important would happen today.”
“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Raesinia said. “The king was... polite, but that’s about it. But I met with Fredrick Goodman afterward.”
“What’d he say?”
Cora settled into the heavy leather armchair across from Raesinia while she recounted their conversation. The suite the Borelgai had provided for her use was comfortably furnished, though in the same gloomy fashion as the rest of the Keep, paneled in dark wood and equipped with solid, heavy furniture. Oil paintings of old men in antique costumes stared down from the walls. Eric was already asleep in his room, and Raesinia had insisted that Barely and Jo take some time to rest as well. Cora’s energy, however, was apparently inexhaustible.
“That’s... not going to work,” Cora said, when Raesinia told her about Fredrick’s insistence on the restoration of prerevolution debt.
“I guessed that we wouldn’t be able to afford it,” Raesinia said.
“It’s not that,” Cora said. “I mean, it is that—?we already have more debt than we can really afford—?but it’s not just that. Toward the end of your father’s rule...” She trailed off, blushing slightly.