The Lady Penitent

XXV. Arrivals

The conspiracy had grown slightly since the dwarf's arrival to the palace. Seva was worried she wasn't going to be able to keep it a secret for much longer. Daag was currently posing as the scion of a powerful dwarven trading house, here to negotiate deals with Yssa. His presence drew curiosity, but he had enough financial knowledge to make eyes glaze over whenever he was pressed on his business. It would have been slightly more difficult to explain what he was doing in a meeting with herself, Dušan Cipris, the Lord Protector, and the current representatives from Genev, Talin, and Ethilir...provided Fionn had the wherewithal to ask. Naris had been watching her carefully, clearly perplexed, which Seva answered with her best false, oblivious smile. So far, her deception seemed to be working.

Gods, but she was becoming almost as good of a liar as the elf. Maybe even better. The things we do for the greater good, Seva had reflected sourly at that thought. The last thing she wanted was to be anything like Naris. But what choice did she have when the world was at stake?

At the moment, though, she was distracted from such bitter ruminations. "We do not have enough mages to have one with every noble house," Dušan said emphatically. "Some of your men will have to do without, Lord Azenari. Perhaps you could try having fewer nobles?"

The ambassador from Genev did not look amused. He was a stern man in his late thirties, premature grey in his red hair and carefully trimmed goatee. His eyes, currently narrowed at the magus, were a dull, steely color. He was not known for his sense of humor, but he was a diplomat, so Seva trusted him not to just leap up and cut out a tongue. "We need mages if we fight demons," he said, accent thick.

"Perhaps apprentices?" Cadeyrn said as he tried to strike a middle-of-the-road approach.

Dušan sighed. "An apprentice is no match for a demon and certainly no danger to Mág Vrah. They have been systematically destroying magical traditions for centuries, so I think it's safe to say they know how to shrug off a basic fireball."

Seva could feel another tension headache coming on. "Not all the Imperium's soldiers are Immortals. Holland's stories made them out to be rarities." The fluttering in her abdomen eased the stress a little bit. She could feel her son moving now and her pregnancy was obvious. It was concern for her nerves and condition that was keeping the men in the room from coming to blows more than her own aptitude as a diplomat. "They will be trouble, truly, but we must turn our eyes towards how to handle the bulk of their legions."

Daag's brow was furrowed above his blind eyes as he drummed his fingers on the table. "We might be able to bridge some of the gaps with siege engines," the dwarf ventured. "Less flashy, but hundreds of stones lobbed into a crowd tends to break formations."

"That sounds—" Seva stopped abruptly. She felt a shiver run down her spine. "Didst thou mark that?"

The magus's eyes narrowed sharply. "We're being scryed," he said as he let his attention turn away from the conversation to perceiving the essence of magic around him. "Either one very powerful mage or several working in tandem."

"The Imperium has mages now?" Azenari demanded.

"No. 'Tis the magic of men they hate above all," Seva said.

The whole room rippled like the surface of a pond, knocking books off the library shelves and scattering the maps on the table. Seva grabbed the edge of the table to steady herself. Then, half a heartbeat later, there was a thunderous crack from the direction of the throne room. Dušan was the first to his feet. "A manifestation!" the magus barked. He almost didn't believe it, but he'd felt something shift. "Whoever was scrying sent something here."

"Is that possible?" Daag asked curiously as he climbed up off the floor.

"Aurel could," Seva said of her old mentor. "Well, he could send a copper coin nigh half across the room. 'Twas only a snap of sound, mind."