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Audra stared at him and said flatly, ‘No idea.’
‘I find that hard to believe.’
‘And I find it hard to believe that former members of this guild would ever take up with an evil oppressor,’ Audra bit back. ‘No matter how badly they were treated here.’
‘Audra —’
But it was Vernich who interrupted, getting to his feet with a frustrated grunt. ‘It is not the former women warriors of this fortress you need concern yourself with, Guild Master. The Daughter of Darkness seeks far more powerful alliances than that.’
Audra coughed pointedly, making her feelings about the backhanded defence of Thezmarr’s former warriors clear.
Osiris’ eyes narrowed. ‘Go on…’
‘The Daughter of Darkness seeks strength, power… She seeks magic unlike the world has seen for many years. She seeks the lost heirs of the midrealms.’
Wilder’s stomach bottomed out. Only decades of training kept him in place.
And despite her mask of calm, Audra paled.
Osiris answered with a dark laugh before putting his head in his hands. ‘You can’t be serious.’
But Vernich’s face was sombre. ‘Who better to ally with than magic wielders born of lines who sought to spread their own darkness at one time or another?’
‘There are no heirs,’ Osiris argued. ‘Delmira fell before an heir was born to King Soren and Queen Brigh. And the Naarvian royals fled, right into a swarm of wraiths. They’re all dead.’
Vernich shrugged. ‘They can’t be. Not if she has made her intentions known to those who matter. Several of my sources have reported to me that she wants the heirs. So much so that she has spread word that she’ll spare the kingdom who hands them over, whoever they are.’ He sat down again and started to clean the dirt from beneath his fingernails with his dagger.
‘Gods…’ Osiris muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.
‘The kingdoms have a duty to any heirs,’ Audra ventured.
‘By law, yes, they do,’ the Guild Master replied, seeming to mull this over before he faced the Warswords again. ‘Do any of you have an idea of when the Great Rite will next open? Will your apprentices be ready for it?’
‘Come now, Osiris,’ Torj replied. ‘It’s only been three weeks. That’s far too soon to tell.’
‘The Great Rite opens of its own accord,’ Wilder added, his skin crawling. ‘There’s no knowing when that might happen next.’
Osiris ran a hand over his closely shaved head, sighing heavily. ‘We need more Warswords.’
Audra had watched their exchange unfold without a flicker of emotion on her face. But now, she clasped her hands together in front of her on the table. ‘What youneedis more warriors,’ she said. ‘What youneedis more Naarvian steel. I have been telling you that for two damn decades.’
‘What’s more Naarvian steel without Warswords to wield it?’ Vernich snapped.
‘I think we’ve proved well enough that a Warsword isn’t the only one —’
‘Furies save us, woman. Not this again.’
Wilder saw a muscle twitch in Audra’s jaw, but she fell silent. He frowned. That was also unlike her…
It was Torj who spoke next. ‘What are our orders, Osiris?’
The Guild Master stood, bracing his knuckles on the table, his gaze falling to each Warsword in turn. ‘If there are heirs to be found, I want you to be the ones to find them. Use all the resources in your power. Scour the midrealms for them. Uncover who they are. And when you do… bring them to me.’
With that, the meeting was over. Wilder’s hands were numb as he gathered his swords and made for the door. The world was slipping out from underneath him —
‘Keep walking, Warsword,’ Audra’s voice sounded behind him. ‘Keep walking.’
He did as he was told, moving one foot in front of the other until the council room was behind him and he was on his way to the Great Hall, the librarian at his side.
