“I did indeed,” Raesinia said. Dorsay didn’t know that neither event was a coincidence—?the summer had turned freezing under the magical influence of the Black Priests, and the Trans-?Batariai tribes had come in response to Elysium’s call to defeat the approaching Vordanai army. “What is the emperor doing about it?”
“Not a great deal, and that’s the part that’s odd. There are some strange rumors coming out of Mohkba. Some people are saying the emperor’s dead, and others insist that Prince Cesha Dzurk is a traitor and is lying about it to seize the throne.”
“Janus smashed at least two sizable Murnskai armies on his way north,” Raesinia said. “We heard that the crown prince was killed in the fighting. It wouldn’t be a surprise if all that caused some upheaval.” She shook her head. “If the harvest was ruined, the whole region must be facing famine. Perhaps we should organize some kind of aid.”
“It’s not usually the winners of a war who offer help to the losers,” Dorsay said, eyes twinkling.
“We were never at war with the people of Murnsk,” Raesinia said. “Our quarrel was with Elysium. And the emperor, once he set himself against us.”
“Elysium is the crux of it,” Dorsay said. “Something very strange has happened there. As best we can tell, much of the Church administration has decamped, legging it for Mohkba and points east as fast as their mules will carry them. No one has gotten close enough to Elysium to find out what’s happening there in weeks. People who try just...” He waved his hands. “Vanish.”
“Has it been sacked by the barbarians?” Raesinia said.
“That’s what everyone seems to think, but I haven’t seen any real information. You’d think the savages would loot and then run home, not hang about picking off scouts. For that matter, it would take a hell of an army to sack Elysium, even with modern guns. I have a hard time imagining a bunch of primitives managing it with bows and spears.”
Destroying Elysium had been Janus’ goal, his reason for marching north. He’d been turned back by the weather, the efforts of the Black Priests, and his own officers, who’d sided with Raesinia and refused to waste more lives on his crusade. Now, it seemed, someone might have accomplished the task for him.
And it mattered more than Dorsay knew. Elysium was, publicly, the seat of the Sworn Church, revered by millions as the holiest place on the continent. Only a few knew it was also home to the Priests of the Black, the secret order dedicated to rooting out and destroying sorcery, architects of the war intended to remove Raesinia from the throne. Anything that had damaged them had to be good news, but Raesinia felt strangely unsettled. We need to know what’s happening.
“Very interesting,” she said aloud. “May I ask, though, why you wanted to share this with me?”
“Partly because I thought you might have something to add,” Dorsay said.
“I would if I did,” Raesinia said, wincing internally at the lie. Dorsay seemed sincere, but she was hardly going to talk to him about magic and demons, not least because it might lead to questions about her own condition. “You seem to be considerably better informed than I am.”
“Fair enough. But I also wanted to ask a favor. Do you have any news of Vhalnich?”
“He’s on his way to his old estate, in Mieran County.” Raesinia frowned. “Why? You think he could be behind this business at Elysium?”
“More rumors. Nothing solid. But... troubling.” Dorsay shrugged. “It would... ease my mind, let’s say, if we could confirm that Vhalnich is settling down to country life and not causing trouble.”
“I understand,” Raesinia said. “I’ll send a courier to check on him. We have people there, and I’ll get you a full report.”
“Thank you.” Dorsay extended a hand. “It’s been such a bear getting the peace talks this far, I’d hate for anything to cause problems now.”
From another man, those words might have been a veiled threat, but Dorsay meant them honestly. Raesinia shook his hand and nodded.
*
Count Albrecht Strav was seventy years old if he was a day, with a long queue of bone ?white hair and wild, bushy eyebrows. He laughed frequently and without modesty, the full-?throated cackles of someone who is long past caring what other people think of him. His desk, a massive slab of a thing polished to a fine sheen, was clear of everything but a daggerlike letter opener. One side of his office was occupied by a hearth, and he’d built the fire up to massive proportions, hot enough to make Raesinia sweat.
“Sorry for that,” he said when she arrived. “Always cold these days, even at midsummer. Don’t get old, m’girl, if you can avoid it.”
“I’ll try my best,” Raesinia said, unable to keep a hint of wry humor out of her voice.
“Expect you want an update,” Strav went on. “Commendable, commendable. Your father never took an interest. Didn’t have much of a head for figures.” Strav guffawed. “Neither do I, tell the truth, but I make do.”
Strav had been Deputy Minister of the Treasury nearly thirty years ago, well before Raesinia was born. Not having a head for figures was probably one reason he’d never gotten the top job, though he was right that King Farus VIII hadn’t paid much attention to financial matters. Orlanko had given the job to Rackhil Grieg, whose blatant profiteering and sale of “tax farm” franchises had brought the Vordanai economy to the brink of ruin before the revolution had intervened.
Now Raesinia had brought in her own expert to set things right. And she’d brought in Strav to, more or less, occupy a chair and provide the weight of his noble pedigree. As best she could tell, he was accomplishing both tasks nicely.
“So,” she said, out of politeness. “How are things progressing?”
“Splendidly!” Strav laughed. “Just splendidly. All the lads are doing splendid work. And the lass, of course. Mustn’t forget her. She seems to work as hard as the rest of ’em put together. She’s a good girl, that one. Reminds me of my granddaughter, Vincent’s girl.” He paused. “Or was it Jaten’s? I lose track after I can’t count ’em on my fingers anymore, ha!”
“Wonderful,” Raesinia said smoothly. “I’ll just have a word with her about the figures, then.”
“Of course! She can come up with any figures you need. She’s a demon for ’em. Never known a girl who liked figurin’ so much.”
“Thank you, Count Strav.” Raesinia beckoned to her guards, and they escaped from the sweltering heat of the office. Their true destination was down the hall, but it wouldn’t have been polite to pay a call on the Treasury without at least a token visit to the minister.