Page 47 of Of Iron and Moonlight

“A fresh set of eyes may help,” the duke said. He leaned back, considering. “Which brings us to trade. What have the routes been telling us this half-year, Dame Layne?”

“All is well. I secured enough wheat to protect the granaries if the fields underperform. Iron is the only true concern,” Nelayne replied. Styfan caught a loose strand of her hair and waved it like a banner, drawing a small smile from Kora.

The duke, who had also been watching Styfan with something unguarded in his expression, folded that warmth away and gave Nelayne his full attention. “Explain.”

“Prices on the northern routes are climbing. Thirty percent in some batches. Grain prices fluctuate with the seasons; iron should not. I followed the increases through middlemen who changed names faster than we could record them, but every trail ends in Kalgorod.”

The duke’s brow drew in. “Valdir.”

The name scuffed the air, and Kora shivered.

“That is my assessment,” Nelayne said, nearly scowling. “He is restricting the flow. Either to starve us, or to corner the market. I’ve placed a quiet agent to purchase small loads through third hands. It is slow work, but it loosens his grip without much notice.” She offered no smile for the cleverness of it, setting the tactic down like a tool on a bench.

“It always returns to Kryovarre and iron,” the duke said, rubbing at his temples. “Good work on the factor. Keep watching closely. If Valdir is hoarding, I want to know why. And I want proof Wolmer can’t ignore, should it be required.”

Then he placed a palm flat on the table and looked around the room. “Let us speak plainly of what we have been avoiding,” he said evenly. “Do we believe Kryovarre means to set its sights on our border beyond the usual probing bands?”

“Aye,” Garric said from the window. “My scouts have marked movement suggesting Kryovarre has doubled its usual strength. And his captains are scattering false reports to cloud their intent. One intercepted message predicts a strike within Ardennesse; another insists Ardennesse is a feint and Devrough the true aim.”

Kora swallowed, understanding dawning on her. This was a duchy bracing for war. She rubbed her thumb along the stitched seam of her sleeve, anchoring herself in something ordinary.

“Devrough would serve Kryovarre well,” Nelayne said thoughtfully. “It would grant him control of the Ardenna Bay. With it, command of every freight route that passes through. I would do the same, were I in his position.”

“But most of his forces remain encamped across the river from Ardennesse,” Cairon countered. He tapped two fingers against the sketches of various contraptions before him, trembling the pages. “Too distant to threaten Devrough, unless the encampment is meant to mislead.”

“He knows we watch,” Brannoc said, folding his arms. “He shows us what he wishes—”

“No,” Garric said, shaking his head. He left the window and found a seat at the table. “Ardennesse still reads as where Valdir is most likely to strike. Their spies move through the region as if they already know where we are most blind.” He spread a large, dark hand along the edge of a nearby map. “Kryovarre will strike Ardennesse boldly this summer. Of that I am certain. What I cannot say yet is which town. Nor when.”

Kora’s husband released a slow breath. “Keep watching, vary our supply routes, and give them nothing predictable to study.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “And add another rotation of watchers near the border. I want notice the moment that camp shifts.”

Garric inclined his head. “It will be done.”

“We need men in position,” Brannoc said. “We risk being out of place when the blow comes.”

“Agreed,” Cairon added. “We can concentrate our strength, or divide it between Ardennesse and Devrough.”

The room turned as one toward the duke.

Though he did not appear rattled, the gravity of the decision and its consequences marked the deepening line between his brows. For the first time, Kora saw him not as a duke, but simply as a man facing the full burden of command.

The pause stretched, then Duncan exhaled and spoke.

“I see your point, Garric. Ardennesse does seem the likely target. But the threat to Devrough remains credible enough that we cannot ignore it. We will split the musters. Whichever border region Kryovarre chooses, we will have men ready.”

Brannoc did not look convinced, but let the matter stand. “I’ll see to it.”

“There is another concern I believe may be tied to this,” Duncan said next. “I would like to hear your thoughts.”

He told them of Norrelia. Not all of it. He said nothing of the baron being false and passed lightly over the humiliations of the Festival, recounting only what a soldier needed to hear. His account sent Kora’s thoughts back to the temple gardens, unresolved confusion prickling at her.

“Oorlon will release Pietre only if the Empire halts iron mining, production, and circulation.”

Cairon’s hands closed into fists, a smith’s instinct at the thought of losing his craft. Nelayne’s mouth narrowed. Brannoc swore under his breath, then offered a brief apology to Rhalen, who waved it aside. Kora, too, let out a small gasp.

“You’re suggesting Kryovarre’s interest in the Ardennesse iron strip, if that is truly where his interest lies, may be linked to Oorlon’s demand,” Nelayne concluded. “If Valdir suspects what the fae wish, he may be hoarding iron to offer as tribute, to buy favor with the High King.”

“Oorlon and Valdir could be allied,” Garric suggested, suspicion darkening his features.