David Niemitz
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Guild Mage 308
🕑 Added 2025-11-24 16:02:28 +0000 UTCChapter 308: The Princess in the Tower
“Liv –” Tephania broke in, clearly about to defend the man she was intending to marry, but Thurston put a hand on her arm, bringing her to a halt.
“No, Teph,” he said, his tone gentle. “She’s right.” Thurston Falkenrath met Liv’s eyes without flinching. “I could tell you that my family and the Summersetts have been close for generations, while they were our vassals; I could talk to you about how Matthew and I were good friends, and how I’d like to be again, if that’s possible. But from your point of view, those are all reasons we should have thrown in on the side of Whitehill, rather than leave you to fight on your own.”
Liv nodded. “We were hoping that once Wren gave you and your father proof of what the dowager was doing, you’d flip to our side. Take the crown forces in the back with your own troops.”
“My father’s far too cautious to have ever done that,” Thurston said, with a heavy sigh. “Though I argued for it. I pushed and pushed for him to trust Matthew like I did, to see what Benedict was doing. But he wanted to hold off from committing to either side until he could see which way the battle was going to go.”
“He’s telling the truth,” Teph said. “I was there for some of it – not all, but a lot. I watched Thurston argue with his father. We were all furious when he had the proof, and still wouldn’t do anything.”
“You’re making my argument for me,” Liv pointed out. “I can’t trust Thomas Falkenrath. I’m not certain I can trust your sister either, Thurston – I seem to recall she was quite friendly with Milisant. If your family had committed, we could have broken off the entire duchy from Lucania, and merged everything into a single kingdom. It would have weakened the south enough that they wouldn’t even have been able to consider war for generations. Whatever it is you want from me, you could have had it. But now we’re sitting on opposite sides of a border.”
“You can’t trust my father, you’re absolutely correct about that,” Thurston said. “But you can trust us. Tephania and I. And my father won’t be duke forever.”
Liv tapped her fingers against the wooden arm of her chair. Thankfully, Keri picked up on the fact that she didn’t want to be the one to ask the next question, that she didn’t want to visibly show interest.
“What are you offering?” he asked, from his place at her side.
“You don’t have a port,” Thurston said. “We do. The road south from Whitehill to Courland was always the route used to export mana stone, for the drovers guild to move livestock, even for goods that came overland from Al’Fenthia. You’ve got the waystone working, from what I understand, but it’s prohibitively expensive to move trade goods that way. No one has enough mages to make it work, and I doubt you’re the exception. What I’m proposing is that we put things back the way they were before. We agree not to impose tariffs or additional taxes on the overland route between the north and the port at Courland.”
Liv leaned back in her chair, thinking it over. She would have liked to have Sidonie with her, so that she could rely on her friend’s encyclopedic knowledge for advice. Even Matthew, who’d been groomed his entire life to be duke of Whitehill, would have been able to give her half a dozen things to think about before making any agreement.
So, she played for time. “It turns out that I’m in the position where I can take the long view,” Liv said. “If that means waiting for your father to pass, and for you to inherit – well, I’ll still be here by the time that happens. Ambassador Blaise.” She raised her voice, and Triss’s brother quickly crossed the room from the doorway. “See to it that Teph and Thurston are invited to Acton House sometime before we leave. Not one of the large dinner parties –”
“Perhaps a small breakfast,” Blaise suggested. “I will see to it, your majesty.”
Thurston stood, and Tephania followed his lead. “Thank you,” he said.
“I haven’t agreed to anything yet.” Liv rose, and stepped forward to give Tephania another hug. “Regardless, I expect you to let me know when the wedding is scheduled.”
“We will.” Teph gave her a squeeze, and when they broke apart the other woman wore a genuine smile.
Liv waited until they’d left the room before she spoke. “I think I’ve had about as much of this as I can take.”
“You’ve done well,” Blaise said. “And don’t forget that you are making a concession by seeing any of these people at all. You aren’t obligated to talk to them – though the more support we have with the great council, the better, of course.”
Keri stood up. “Earlier, you mentioned that you wanted at least one dance. Perhaps we should have one now. It would give you a moment to think about something other than the endless line of barons who want something from you.”
“That,” Liv decided, “sounds like a lovely suggestion.”
Keri stepped up to her side and offered her his arm. Liv rested her hand atop his forearm, just where a vambrace would be buckled, and waited for Ambassador Blaise to open the door.
Ghveris stepped out first, which conveniently cleared the way, as those who had been waited for their turn withered under the massive war-machine’s gaze, then backed away. The open space in the crowd gave Liv a clear view of the dancing couples on the floor, all festooned with silks that glittered under the lights of the chandeliers, with masks of leather or lace perched on their faces as they spun in circles. It had been a deliberate choice on her part not to bother; everyone would know who she was, anyway.
“Do you actually know how to dance in the Lucanian style?” she whispered to Keri, as he led her through the crowd toward the music and the swirl.
“I made preparations,” he murmured back to her. “As soon as I knew that we would be coming to Freeport, I convinced Mistress Trafford that learning the local dances would be as good an exercise as anything else. I thought it might make a nice surprise for you.”
Liv felt the smallest stab of jealousy: it was a nice thought, but she would rather have been the one practicing with him, all this time. Still, she knew that Keri didn’t have the slightest interest in the chirurgeon, and that she herself had been so endlessly occupied by one thing after another that she would have struggled to find the time. So, she took Keri’s surprise in the spirit it had been offered. “Show me,” she told him, with a smile.
They waited until one song ended, and the next began, and then joined the lines of dancers, facing each other across the floor. Though she tried to put them at the end, the caller, a gray-haired little man with a well lined face, came hurrying over from his place near the musicians, and insisted that they take the head of the lines, instead.
“You must!” he said, herding them to their new places like a mother duck with two wayward ducklings. “You are the guest of honor, your majesty – nothing else will do!”
That, of course, put every eye in the room on her. Liv was certain that half the conversations at the edges of the dancing, or at the tables where powerful nobles and merchants gathered to do business, had been placed on hold. The caller leaned in to speak with the musicians in hushed tones, and when the song began, it took Liv by surprise.
She’d never heard the Mountain Song interpreted by court musicians, complete with lutes, drums, and flutes. While she’d never actually danced to the melody before, the three beats of each measure were easy enough for her to move in time. Liv met Keri in the middle, where they spun before promenading down the floor between both lines, and taking their places at the bottom of the order.
For the space of a single dance, amidst the music and the motion, the masks and dresses of the other women spinning around her, Ker’s hand on her hip, and the breathless rush of coming together, then retreating again, Liv was able to pretend for just a moment that she was simply one woman among the crowd. It was only the second masque she had ever been to in her entire life, and for just a moment, she considered the idea of staying past midnight, and dancing until dawn.
Wren was waiting for them when they came off the floor, grinning like a tomcat who’d just dropped a headless mouse at the foot of the bed. “Found them,” the huntress said, raising her voice over the noise of the crowd.
☙
It took a quarter bell to get everyone they needed in one place.
Eustace, the priest of the Trinity, was easy enough, but rounding up all three of the regents took longer. Duke Richard had been the first found by Liv’s guards, holding court with representatives of the major guilds, apparently deeply ensconced in a discussion of economic policy. Thomas Falkenrath, on the other hand, had apparently been trying to make a match for his daughter.
Liv could imagine how the disgraced princess’s former lady in waiting, a woman known to wield the word of death, might present a difficult prospect at the moment. Cecily was, she realized when she thought to do the math, also beginning to get a bit old for marriage; she would be twenty-eight in the new year.
The final person to be procured was Caspian Loredon, who had been parading the infant heir to the throne around in front of the entire kingdom’s assembled aristocracy.
“My apologies,” the old man said, entering the same room that Liv had been using as, essentially, a solar, for the entire evening. “With barons from all across Lucania here for the great council, it is absolutely imperative for everyone to see that the young crown prince is healthy.”
Liv looked at the child, tightly swaddled and asleep, tucked into the crook of the old man’s arm. He was the son of two of her enemies, absolutely vile people – but the baby himself had never done anything to hurt anyone. “What did she name him?”
“Lucan,” Duke Falkenrath grumbled. “Of course. After Miriam’s son, and the namesake of the country. The woman’s high opinion of herself is as insurmountable as a castle’s walls, it would seem.”
“I imagine we will need to style him Lucan the Second,” Caspian said. “Though his namesake was technically only ever a baron, in life.” The old man settled into an open chair. “We’re all here. What is it that was so important that it could not wait?”
“Wren?” Liv turned to her friend.
“I trailed one of the kitchen servants to a meeting of the Cult of Ractia,” Wren explained. “They wanted to confirm that Liv was in the city, apparently, which I’m sure won’t lead to anything pleasant. They’re settled in beneath the butchers guild, in a meat cellar with enchantments that are supposedly broken. They’ve got what’s left of their human sacrifices hanging in back, on meathooks.”
“Blood and shadows,” Duke Richard swore.
Eustace leapt to his feet. “How long ago did you leave them?”
“As long as it took to fly back here,” Wren said. “No more than a quarter bell. If we move quick enough, we can still catch them.”
“Thomas, I want you to go,” Caspian said, after a moment’s thought. “Your family’s particular word of power will be useful, I think, if there are preserved corpses. May I presume, Lady Wren, that you are willing to lead our soldiers to the location?”
“That’s why I came back,” Wren said. “I thought about killing them all myself, but I thought that might cause an argument.”
“I will accompany you,” Ghveris rumbled.
Keri shifted, in his seat next to Liv, and she reached out and placed her hand on his leg. “Stay with me, please,” she said.
He exhaled. “Of course.”
In only moments, Duke Thomas, Eustace, Wren and Ghveris had left the room. Liv could picture the swathe they must have cut through the crowd of dancers and hangers on, probably picking up whatever knights were present as they left. A part of her wanted very much to be with them, but she trusted Wren and Ghveris. If her friend had thought that she would be needed, she would have said so.
“We should have pushed her harder,” Richard said to Caspian. “I’d wager she’s working with them.”
“Who?” Liv asked.
The archmage scowled. “Milisant. She’s been refusing to answer questions.”
“Some of us wanted to use more forceful means,” Duke Richard commented, but Liv was already nearly overcome by a swell of anger, and hardly even heard him.
“She’s still in the city?” Liv demanded, raising her voice. “She was supposed to be in exile. That was the agreement.”
“After she had given birth,” the archmagus argued back. “We wanted to be completely certain that both she and the prince were healthy. And we also agreed that she would be questioned – something we could not very well do while she was carrying the heir to the kingdom.”
Liv kept the hand on Keri’s leg still, but clenched the other in a fist, but it was Kaija who actually spoke next.
“Thanks to this spy, they know you’re here, right now,” the older woman told Liv. “We should leave. Whatever they’re planning, we need to disrupt it before it happens. In the meanwhile, let me at her. I’ll make her answer.”
“She is refusing to speak unless Queen Livara goes to see her,” Duke Richard said.
“No,” Keri stated, immediately. “It is clearly a trap.”
“There’s nothing she can possibly do,” Caspian Loredon said. “We have her imprisoned in the Seastone Tower, under constant guard. She has no wand, no enchanted objects of any sort, and she is cuffed with mana stone shackles that drain mana, keeping her utterly empty at all times.” He sighed. “I was going to ask you tomorrow, whether you would consider seeing her.”
“Do not go,” Keri said, turning to Liv. “Let them starve her for a week, and see if she talks. Let Kaija at her. But if she asks to see you, do not give her what she wants.”
“I beat Milisant Loredan when I wasn’t even grown,” Liv reminded him. “You were there, Keri. I can’t imagine that woman presenting any danger to me now. If all it takes is me stepping into a room with her to find out what she knows, it’s a small price to pay. It won’t be pleasant – she’s an utter bitch. But it will be quicker than trying to starve the information out.”
Keri switched from Lucanian to Vakansa. “I do not like this,” he repeated. “You are the person on whom our entire alliance hangs, Liv. There is no one else who can take your place. It will fall apart if something happens to you.”
She turned towards him. “Then we won’t let anything happen.” Liv found his hand, folded it in her own, and turned to meet Caspian Loredan’s eyes. “I’ll go, but I will bring every guard I have here. Kaija and her people will search the room, and Milisant, before I go in. Keri will be with me. And if she makes the slightest move, we won’t hesitate or stop to ask questions – we will simply kill her.”
“That is all acceptable,” the archmage said, after only a moment to consider. “Let me see the crown prince safely to his rooms, and into the care of his nurse, and then I will take you to the Seastone Tower myself. Duke Richard, you will remain at the palace in the event something happens which requires the attention of the council of regents.”
☙
By the time their carriages had reached the Seastone Tower, Liv could see a ruddy orange glow and a haze of smoke from across the city.
“You think Wren and Ghveris have run into trouble?” Keri asked, as he helped Liz down out of the carriage.
“If they have, I trust them to handle it,” she said. Together, and surrounded by her guards, they strode across the courtyard to where Archmagus Loredon waited for them, just outside his own carriage.
“This was the original home of my family,” Caspian said, heading toward the gate as soon as they’d drawn even with him. “A fortification, rather than a palace. Once Moristaim was built, our ancestors began using it to imprison those who couldn’t be trusted to the regular sort of dungeon.”
At the old man’s approach, two guards unlocked the entrance to the tower with a ring of keys, and then stepped aside. The entire procession crossed the bottom floor, which had been turned into a miniature garrison, and then ducked, one after the other, into the cramped stone staircase that spiraled up to the higher levels of the ancient building.
When they reached the top, Liv waited with Keri and Caspian, while Kaija and all ten of the guards they’d brought poured through the heavy door and into the chambers where Princess Milisant had been imprisoned since the end of the war. Liv could hear voices echoing from above, and imagined that Millie wasn’t very pleased at being surprised in the middle of the night.
In the brief pause while they waited, Keri took Liv by both hands, and she let him pull her around to face him, his chin nearly touching her forehead. “Are you absolutely certain you want to go in there?” he asked, in the language of her father’s people.
“She can’t hurt me,” Liv told him. “Anway. I have you and Kaija here to protect me, don’t I?”
“Clear,” Kaija called from inside the room.
Liv released Keri’s hands, and patted at the sheath on her hip where the stormwand rested. Its presence was a comfort, as if Julianne was still at her side. Without any further hesitation, Liv stepped through the door.
Comments
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I quite like it. Heightened tension for the reader.
fennek
... And then she stepped ... Onto the cliff!
Ike5421
This is why you don't show the pov of the enemy if you hadn't shown us Millie's pov liv wouldn't seem like an idiot right now. You are making your MC look bad.
