“Yes, of course.” Warna turned the page of the ledger. Of course she wanted to know why Lord Verice hadn’t left this morning, and why his advisors were being summoned and escorted to Narthing’s room. Lord of Light, the entire castle was abuzz with curiosity. “I am sure we’ll be told what we need to know when we need to know it.” She strived to sound aloof and above idle curiosity. “Now, is this entry accurate? Did you really order this many candles?”
He examined the lines she was pointing to. “That can’t be right,” Ersal scowled and started digging through the pile of documents at his side of the table.
“You’re going to need help keeping this organized, Ersal.” Warna said. “A clerk of your own, maybe two.”
Ersal gave her a sharp look as he pulled forth the chandler’s statement. “You won’t be staying?” he asked. “I’d thought perhaps—”
“Here’s the correct figure,” Warna interrupted, not wanting to talk about her staying or going. “See?”
Ersal whooshed out a relieved breath. “I knew it couldn’t be right—”
A cough had them both looking up, startled.
The constable stood in the doorway. “Lord Verice asks that you both attend him.”
Narthing’s room wascrowded with people and chairs. Warna hesitated in the doorway, recognizing many faces in the crowd as Ersal pushed his way in. Even Dominic had managed to squeeze himself into the room.
From his bed, now moved into the corner, Narthing caught Warna’s eye. “Here, Lady Warna,” he said loudly, and gestured to a chair placed next to the headboard.
Heads turned to stare at her. Warna felt her cheek grow hot as people stood and shifted to allow her to pass. Warna threaded her way through with soft apologies. “Narthing, what’s happening?” she asked urgently as she took her seat.
Narthing opened his mouth, but a sharp knocking silenced the room.
Verice stood in the center of one wall, and commanded everyone’s attention. “Now that Seneschal Ersal and Lady Warna have joined us, let’s review the situation.”
Warna drew a breath. She hadn’t been this close to him for some time. His face was set, hard as granite and yet he appeared tired to her eyes. Weary, even. She swallowed hard, and looked away.
“You’ve all had a chance to read the missive from King Barathiel of Valltera. We can all agree that the wording—”
“Warna has not,” Narthing said firmly.
Verice seemed to catch himself, as if forcing himself to slow down.
“It would not be bad, to review what we know,” Lord Mayor Pernard said mildly.
Verice nodded. “To summarize then. This morning, when I finished with the pells, a message from King Barathiel awaited me on my desk.” He nodded to the parchment on Narthing’s lap. “It contains a polite but strongly worded summons to attend upon his Majesty today ‘to discuss the welfare of my person and Tassinic’.” Verice’s blue eyes drilled into hers. “The Lady Warna is also included in the summons.”
“What?” Warna couldn’t quite take that all in. “Me? But—”
Narthing had pushed the parchment into her lap, and she stared down to where he pointed. She could see her name clear as day in one of the lines of spidery, thin script.
“The document extends me the privilege of opening a portal to the Royal Household this noon, and implies that the visit will be a short one, given that it fails to mention servants or retainers.” Verice grimaced. “Our worries stem more from what it doesn’t say, than what it does.”
“So, the question becomes,” Narthing said. “do you accept this invitation?”
“Observations?” Verice said. “We’ve little time to debate, and no doubt that is by intent as well.” He paused, then gave them all a rueful expression. “You’ve advised me well in the past. Give me the gift of your wisdom now.”
Pernard rose from his chair. “M’lord, King Barathiel has not once contacted you since the troubles began within Palins, has he?”
“He has not,” Verice confirmed.
Ersal gestured to Warna, and she passed him the invitation to read.
Pernard frowned. “Yet he has brought up troops to our border. Not of a strength that we would fear invasion, but enough to cause concern. I do not know what that portends, but I say do not go. Exchange messages, yes. Use scrying bowls, yes. But do not go.”
An older woman rose, someone Warna didn’t know. “And I would argue that point. We do not know the intent of this. King Barathiel has not been openly hostile and the borders remain open for trade and travel. They know that if Tassinic falls, they will have to deal with the Usurper, and they don’t want that.”
There were many nods at that.
