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The penultimate chapter of The Valiant and the Bold, in which a Rubicon is crossed.

So here is the climax of the novel, where the plot threads should--ideally--all come together. Thanks for sticking with me, and I apologize for the delay in posting it. The last chapter should follow next week! Patreon subscribers, this should also be live for you with notes and maps and stuff.

Released under the Creative Commons BY-NC-SA license. Share, modify, and redistribute--as long as it's attributed and noncommercial, anything goes.

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The Valiant and the Bold, by Rob Baird. Ch. 6: "Through the Valley of the Shadow"

Captain Gevreth Selva looked like what I'd imagined from his service record: young and straight-backed, eyes still keen and filled with fire. He was a stoat, like Davesh Calchott, although not from the same part of Aernia. And not from the same aristocratic background: he had enough muscle to look imposing, and to give weight to his sharp teeth.

"At ease," I told the captain. "Welcome to Cassalmure. Take a seat, please."

He nodded and followed orders, before handing me a sealed envelope across my desk. "I was given this to present to you, sir. I presume it's my orders."

Since I'd been the one to request him, I was aware of their contents--aware that his posting had already been approved by the requisite functionaries in the Royal Army, and by his sponsor in the Old Council. I took the envelope anyway. "Yes. You're to join the Royal Guard, here in Tabisthalia, as Her Majesty Queen Ansha's personal escort."

Selva blinked in surprise. "An escort, sir?"

Good. "Quite a change from the frontier, I know. Have you been to the capital before, captain?"

"No. Never been north of Kath'tun."

I had to smile at his idiosyncratic, South Coastern pronunciation of what the rest of us called_Kiathen Down_--the largest city in West Kiath, and one of the largest on the coast, but diminutive next to the Aernian capital. "Welcome, then."

"Yes, sir."

"You're still puzzled about the orders. Let me explain a little. Did you hear about any unrest in the capital city down there in Mirhall?"

Diplomatically--also good--Selva said that he knew there had been riots following a major fire in the city center. He heard that a few rioters had been killed, though nothing else. Prompted, he went further: sentiment in Mirhall had been against the uprising and its overbearing demands.

"Overbearing? What did they say?"

He caught the implication in my subtle grin. "They said the Tabisthalians didn't know how well they had it, sir. But I'm sure we weren't told everything."

"You weren't." I opened the folder of his records, tilting them towards Selva so the stoat could see what I was examining. "Three years in the Fourth Light. It's not everyone who makes captain so quickly. I was impressed by the details of your citation, captain, I have to say."

"I did what was necessary, sir. It was a... trying battle, ya. Do you know much about the Whistling Pale, sir?" I didn't. It adjoined the_Dalrath_, a forest with trees the size of galleons--trees that kept the territory in perpetual darkness. The native inhabitants of the Dalrath, tree-dwelling magic-users, were given to resist the Iron Kingdom's steady encroachment.

At times, I understood, they did so quite viciously. "No, but one of these days, I'm curious to know more about them. My predecessor, General Ivra K'nSullach, is taking over command of operations there."

"K'nSullach? A borderlander, ya? At least they know how to deal with fighting."

"Indeed. I asked for you specifically, Captain Selva. I'm sure it's a little surprising. It was surprising to me, as well. I was posted to Dhamishaya before K'nSullach brought me here. In the Cahied Fusiliers, also a front-line unit. She saw then what I saw now, which is that the Royal Guard needs men who've been tested under fire."

"You think there'll be more fighting, sir?"

"I think there'll be great tension. For which we need people who can fight, and who know how to avoid it. I was the one who faced down the crowd in Chenwyck Park. Thank the gods, it didn't come to blows. Queen Ansha will need someone who understands that."

"Yes, sir."

"And I want you to understand that you should consider this a great honor. It will be difficult--it will try you in ways that you do not expect now. And in the next few hours, it's about to get... more complex. But it_is_ an honor."

An hour later, Selva was standing before me in the uniform of the Royal Guard--polished and trim, with the same look I'd had when I first saw myself in the same attire. His gaze expressed a degree of skepticism.

"Can you ride a horse, captain?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Things like that will help." I explained, as K'nSullach had, the small ways with which we could extract some measure of dignity. But for his first meeting with the queen, I ordered a carriage to take us to the Iron Hall.

Subtly as I could, I probed Selva on his feelings about the capital city. And about the monarchy itself, and the corporate interests that dominated Aernia's midlands, and the ever-tumultuous eastern marches. In response to all of these, the stoat maintained a level of stoicism.

"Queen Ansha might tell you that you need to be careful about what you say, and about who you say it to. She's right--the concept of 'public' here is a very strange one, and the city is a chaotic frenzy of shifting alliances. I'm sorry that I can't provide more clarity."

"But it's worth it, sir?"

"Serving the throne? Of course it's worth it."

The carriage halted, and I guided the stoat to Ansha's wing of the Iron Hall. The queen's attendant stepped aside to let us enter her chambers. Queen Ansha stood, and shook her head the moment Selva started to bow. "Oh, that's not necessary. Colonel Laner, is this my new guard?"

"Yes, ma'am. Captain Gevreth Selva. He's come highly recommended and I have great faith in his abilities. I've already briefed him, somewhat, but I'm sure you'll want to speak to him at greater length. I'll wait outside."

And there I sat, quietly. How was I to prepare Selva for the other aspects of service to Queen Ansha? Really, that meant: what could Colonel K'nSullach have warned_me_ about, and would I have listened?

I wanted to make sure that Gevreth was prepared for the capital city. He'd need to be introduced to Duke Cirth-Arren, too--though Arkenprince Tullen was aware of the appointment, so Nantor hopefully trusted my judgment. But I wanted them to be aware of each other. I wanted him to know Siron Yanisca, too.

K'nSullach tried to protect me from knowing too much--she wanted me to serve Queen Ansha without any sort of preconceptions. Now, though... now things had become rather too fraught for that. If Selva was to be effective, he'd have to know what he was getting into.

Their meeting took a little over ten minutes. Probably they'd covered the same topics of conversation as Ansha had when_I_ first met her. When I asked Captain Selva what he thought of the queen, he seemed to be in good spirits.

I thought of the best way to explain the other_complications_ to him. "She might ask you to perform certain errands for her. She might expect that you be more than a simple guard to her--that you be a... companion, of sorts. I leave that up to your best judgment, captain."

Gevreth nodded. "Yes, sir."

"That being said, unfortunately, things are a little different now than they were when I first began here with the Royal Guard. The..." Saying the words brought a twinge of distaste to my muzzle. "The political implications of her various proclivities are no longer something we can afford to be detached about."

I waited until we were back in a carriage headed for Cassalmure before answering his question about what those proclivities might be. When I explained her association with the Republican Society, the stoat's brow wrinkled heavily. "But... she's the queen."

"I know. She has some unconventional ideas. She means well, captain; she wants what's best for her people. But there's plenty in the capital city who aren't so kind-hearted. So if you hear anything--if something catches your eyes or ears and seems out of place--I would appreciate being informed."

"Of course."

I shook my head. "No, it's not like that. Your first loyalty should be to Her Majesty, Captain Selva. You're her personal escort, not a spy for the Royal Guard. But I'm asking as a courtesy. That's all."

He blinked a few times, digesting what I'd said. "This is a more complicated thing than I'd first thought, isn't it? I guess I'm not supposed to trust anyone, ya, but... how can you live like that? I--I'm sorry, I don't mean to be insubordinate, sir. Just... getting up to speed. Or... doing what I can to understand it."

"That's all any of us manage, captain. Myself included. You'll learn, I hope."

***

Tabisthalia settled into a sort of routine, though, as spring yielded to the gentle rains and warm afternoons of late Obval and early Lettid. King Chatherral was now in Ailaragh, the island province, where the Lodestone Sovereign kept his summer palace.

I was led to believe Queen Ansha had visited him there, in years past, but as Lettid wore on she chose to remain in Tabisthalia. Accordingly, I had only the reports from Major Harrell, commander of His Majesty's personal escort, to keep me informed of matters on the island.

It seemed, at least, calm. This was what I told Lieutenant Commander Yanisca, who joined me for lunch at Cassalmure. It was slightly more than standard barracks-fare; the otter looked rather skeptical when presented with a plate of sausage and potatoes.

"You wanted to come here," I reminded her. "We could have special-ordered some hardtack..."

She shook her head and tried a bite of sausage. "Next time, I'll have to make sure you do that. Trust me, though, I do appreciate your hospitality. How are things in the fortress, colonel?"

"Well enough. Quiet enough--which is really the same thing. How about on the docks? Major Harrell has said the Royal Marines are providing most of the protection for His Majesty and the princes while they're in the Amber Hall." The restrictions keeping the marines out of Tabisthalia didn't apply outside of the capital city, after all.

"Apparently." Siron glanced around; we were all but alone in the officer's mess. "It is nice being able to get some work done. We launched the iron ram_Hastrian_ last week and even managed to get her sent on patrol without being distracted by the need for thirty bloody lords to have some ceremony about it."

"A good ship? You ask if they needed a captain?"

The otter grinned warmly. "I wish. But I'm still sentenced to serving here, colonel. You know we can't all get lucky, like General K'nSullach. Do you know how she's faring?"

I'd received a letter from Ivra K'nSullach two days prior, reporting her experiences on the Whistling Pale. It was framed merely as a strategic update, in the event that matters of the frontier came up in discussion at the Iron Hall.

But I could read into them how relieved the Border Collie was to be in command of a proper military force again. Even the details of constructing new palisades were threaded through with barely concealed excitement.

It was good for more than K'nSullach, of course: the Royal Army benefited from having a competent commander to take over the task of pacifying the Whistling Pale and the Dalrath. Her letter said there hadn't been any actual fighting--but that, when it happened, they'd be ready.

"I should hope so," Yanisca said. "Those trees--I can scarcely imagine it. I heard all kinds of horrible things about what it's like down there. Magic arrows and huge monsters... and I know soldiers can spin a yarn, but..."

"I think it's true. Queen Ansha's new guard came from the Whistling Pale. He talks about those things--they ride great spotted beasts, you know? Like horses... but larger, with muzzles strong enough to tear a man in half. Said it takes cannon to bring one down, and it used to be they were spooked by gunfire but they've learned."

Of course, I could've found out--Captain Wainsmet had seen them up close and personal, too, the last time the King's Own Army had tried to mount an offensive in the forest. She was all too aware of the aftermath and, in truth, I was happy for the Dalrath to stay in the realm of barracks gossip.

"In any case," I concluded. "It's a very different life from up here."

"But K'nSullach is happy?"

"I think so."

"What about Mr. Selva? Is Queen Ansha getting along with him?"

I told Siron that I hoped so, but I'd detected a barbed edge to the otter's questioning. When I suggested as much, she again looked around the room to make sure nobody was listening in.

"The word is, she's found a new companion. Somebody from the docks. I didn't hear more. It was the kind of thing that, when I ask, the sailors pretend they weren't talking about anything at all."

"I haven't heard anything like that. You don't think it's Selva?"

She finished the last of her plate. "What did I say, Aric? I didn't hear anything more, but since they said 'from the docks,' I'm assuming it's not someone in the capital. Just letting you know what the docks are whispering--might be worth keeping your own ear to the ground for a spell."

Hallun Couthragn had asked to speak with me that afternoon anyway, so I resolved to ask him when I had the chance. The badger arrived at my office early in the evening, looking uncharacteristically weary. He explained that it had been a long day of traveling, and--also uncharacteristically--welcomed my offer of some whiskey.

"Do they drink this where you're from?" I asked. "Where_are_ you from?"

"It's not terribly important," Couthragn answered. "Some place they drink whiskey; that's good enough." He took a careful sip, savoring the taste--from Inverbar, like all the best was. "Much as I dislike them, I have to say... at times, it would be far more convenient to take a train."

"Where did you come from?"

"Garsteadshire." Hallun set the whiskey down to pull a map from out of his coat. It was covered in some kind of writing, though the characters were utterly alien to me--nothing I'd seen in any of my years on the frontier. Whatever their provenance, he had no difficulty in deciphering them. "The farmers are in open revolt now. Three days ago, they took and fortified the granary in Temarren. Yesterday, General Olmor took it back."

I sighed heavily, for I knew the outcome of this kind of affair. "How many dead?"

"Seven of ours, and forty of theirs." Those terms only deepened my sense of dread. "General Olmor has what's left of the town garrisoned, and for now the rebels are retreating--but Garstead is under siege."

"Ah, bloody hell." I sighed again, and debated pouring a drink of my own. "Does that change anything in the capital?"

"It shouldn't, except your old friend is being recalled."

"Which one?"

"Do you have many? Not the prostitute, colonel. Ivra K'nSullach. The entirety of the Army of Yrrdal is joining Olmor in Garsteadshire. Operations from Castle Mirhall will have to cease for a while--until the farmers have decided to give up. It's a bit..." He rolled his eyes, and motioned for me to refresh his glass.

"Political?"

The eastern march was governed by a body of margraves that the borderlanders collectively referred to as 'the Landsmoot'--an equal to the Governor's League, and the Old Council representing the heartland of Aernia.

I wasn't surprised by anything Hallun told me: that the Moot was always spoiling for a new opportunity to challenge the Lodestone Sovereign, that the sight of the Royal Army firing on beleaguered farmers galled them, and that they were considering pledging their support to the uprising.

And with that context, it suddenly made sense that putting a fellow borderlander on the field might check their willingness to take up arms. Much as the Aernian March resented being 'controlled' from Tabisthalia, they valued the intricacies of interclan politics more.

He'd already said the fighting in Garsteadshire wouldn't matter to us in the capital; he was updating me as a courtesy. The meeting, it turned out, was because he desired the same from me. I told him that Captain Selva seemed to be in Ansha's good graces, and that the Republican Society hadn't given us any real trouble.

"There is one small matter--not from Selva. I've been told that Queen Ansha might be meeting with someone else, as a... well. As a... 'companion'; that was their term. I don't know very much about it. To be honest, Mr. Couthragn, these sorts of rumors are much more your territory than mine."

"I suppose, yes. What_do_ you know?"

"I was told they were from the docks--possibly a foreigner. Does that sound familiar?"

"I haven't heard anything. But then, I haven't been in the capital, either. It was Siron who told you, I imagine. Do you know who might've informed her? She didn't tell you, did she--no, I thought she wouldn't. Yanisca's always too protective of her people. I don't know, colonel: more rumors pass through the docks than grains of wheat. It could be something, or it could be nothing at all. I'll see what I can find out."

Captain Selva was due to make his regular report the following morning and so, just in case, I made a note to ask him too. But he began the meeting with the sort of gossip that Hallun would likely already have to control: "I was asked to accompany Her Majesty to King Rawlon's College, ya? For a meeting of something called the Republican Society."

I nodded. "Who was there? A stoat named Davesh Calchott? An old hare, Dr. Scad Kirchvar?"

"Yes. Both of them, sir. And a few others, besides that."

"Did their talk amount to anything?"

He said that it did not, but he was shifting on his feet, and clearly uneasy. At last, point-blank, I asked him why. The young captain cleared his throat. "You... you knew about this, sir?"

"Like I said: the queen's proclivities are... unique, and sometimes troubling. It's important that we stay informed of them, but she_is_ still the queen, and it's still her prerogative to pursue such interests."

"Yes, sir," Selva responded unsteadily. "It's only that... well, due respect, sir, but if they hadn't said it in her presence--with her_approval_, no less--I would have called it treasonous."

"I know. But it_is_ with her approval. So we can only monitor it, and hope that all their talk doesn't amount to anything more than polite arguments at a sedate university."

"They should all be arrested. Not the queen, I mean, but--the rest of them, ya? That Dr. Kirchvar in particular--is he_serious_? Does he seriously think the common folk should be in control of this country?"

I gave the stoat a gentle smile. "You disagree? We're from the midlands, remember? We've always had a measure of independence from the king that Tabisthalia itself has never enjoyed."

"I_do_ disagree," he insisted. "I've seen the common folk, and I've seen the minor lords, too--and if you ask me, sir, they're barely qualified to run an inn. They've no business laying claim to a country. I don't understand what the queen wants to do. What she expects to happen."

"You weren't here for the fire in Tallachet, captain. The Iron Hall was slow to respond. After a fashion, it was Queen Ansha that forced them to take care of their people. She thinks they're not paying close enough attention... it's not a completely unreasonable feeling."

"Perhaps not, but... well. I don't want to say things when it isn't my place to same them, sir, ya? I didn't mean to bring it up."

I grinned. "Might as well bring it up to me, so we know where we both stand. I'm not much for it, either--my father taught me to respect the sovereign, as he was taught by his father. My grandfather came from the Confederacy, where they didn't have a strong central government. They're always fighting amongst themselves, and, to hear my father say it, his father immigrated to the Iron Kingdom to escape that."

"I didn't know you were Ellagdran, sir."

"I'm not," I said--sternly, though I kept my grin. "I don't like the food, and I don't speak the language. And I don't think much of their politics, either--messy as Tabisthalia is, I do believe the Iron Kingdom is a damn sight better than_that_. But what is it you wanted to say to me?"

"Just... I hope she doesn't get into trouble. She was very... she was very...uninhibited at the meeting. She had a lot of wine, and she was quite... physical with one of the lords. I didn't say anything, of course, ya? It's not my place. No."

"It's not. And she is like that. In some ways, the nobility are no different from the rest of us. I can't say that I understand. I'm a simple farmboy, captain."

"Then I'm a simple wainwright, ya? If it's not causing trouble, I'll let it be. She had me escort someone from the docks, too... I don't think they were another Republican. They didn't even speak Aernian, or not very well."

"No? Who were they?"

"Some... not a wolf, an easterner, maybe? They had tan fur, and big ears... they might've been from the Dominion, ya? The guard didn't give me a name or anything I could use to identify them, just... told me to keep it quiet. You're the only one I've told."

"What kind of guard?"

"The ship's guard, sir. I think they were a prisoner, whoever they were. I guess you were not told--maybe it was something else, you know. Political. Again, apologies if I'm doing something inappropriate. Sir."

"You're not. Thank you for letting me know, Captain Selva. I'll find out what's going on. Take it as a polite suggestion, not an order, but it might be best if you stayed away from this matter."

"Yes, sir."

***

I made my way to the Iron Hall out of uniform--not that I expected it would matter much to anyone's spies, but I wished to maintain some level of discretion. Nobody bothered me: it was a warm, sultry, perfectly ordinary summer night.

One of Queen Ansha's ladies in waiting always kept watch outside the door to her wing of the palace. In this case it was Nara, Lady Suttin. The vixen informed me that Ansha was occupied.I didn't ask with what, sir, she told me.

"Shall I wait inside to speak with her, then?"

"She specified that there were to be no visitors, sir. Everyone is to be turned away."

"I'm the leader of the Royal Guard, ma'am. And I was her personal escort for six months. I don't want to force the issue, but as long as you're not telling me anything more..."

Conflicting loyalties played out in the vixen's expression. At last she stood aside and let me enter the waiting room. Rather pointedly, Nara herself remained outside the door.

The sounds from further within were muffled, but clear enough to my keen ears. As the minutes passed, they rose in pitch and volume. Ansha's voice was plain--after all, I'd heard those cries myself plenty of times myself. I felt uncomfortable staying, knowing what was going on.

"Who's she with?" I asked the vixen, when I stepped back outside. "It's not Captain Selva, is it?"

The vixen shook her head gently. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Some jackal, sir. I don't know his name. I don't know anything about him. It's not Mr. Selva's doing, sir. Trust me. Please."

"Of course."

Before I left the Iron Hall, I sent a courier to find Hallun Couthragn and headed back to Cassalmure. The badger arrived barely half an hour after I did, before I'd had the chance to practice what I wished to tell him.

It meant I had to be direct. "The rumors seem to be true, Hallun. I don't know who the man is, but--"

"Fuck." His curt, abrupt oath cut me off. "Don't tell me rumors about something like this. How 'seem to be true' do you mean, colonel?"

"I visited the Iron Hall and, ah... I heard. With my own ears. The queen's attendant says it's some jackal."

Hallun clenched his muzzle hard. "And you heard it?"

"Yes."

The badger was trembling with anger; his right paw clenched into a tight fist. "Cargal'th. When? Now? Did you send for me as soon as you knew, colonel?"

I had never seen him so upset before--indeed I'd never seen much of any emotion from the stolid badger. His eyes blazed with something that bordered on panic, and that worried me. "Yes. I wanted to talk to you as soon as I'd left the palace."

"Fuck.Fuck. I need to send a message. Find me someone, colonel."

"I--"

"Colonel! Get me a damned courier!"

He began writing a hasty note as I left to find a messenger--there weren't many available men so close to midnight, particularly not ones I trusted given the badger's mood. By the time I returned the note was finished; he was no more calm.

"To begin with, the barbarian has to be dealt with."

"You know he's a barbarian?"

"Yes. Ashan ar-Ganari. The leader of the Ganari clan of the Sujetai, transferred to Tabisthalia to be interrogated by the Royal Army's intelligence unit. I don't know more than that--'more than that' doesn't matter. Have the Royal Guard arrest him as soon as he leaves."

"That should be the responsibility of the constables, Mr. Couthragn, shouldn't it?"

His head shook fiercely. "Even if it was, we don't have that luxury. The constables bleed gossip. Find someone in the guard you trust not to breathe a fucking_word_ of this and have him arrested at once."

"I'm afraid I can't do that on short notice, sir. Tomorrow morning, maybe, when Major Cavell is around, but..."

The badger took another piece of paper out. His paw was a blur. "Fine. We can find other ways to handle him. Be ready to deal with the queen, too."

At that moment the courier I'd summoned arrived; Hallun gave him both notes with orders to take them to an address in the Butcher's Quarter. I checked to make sure the hall was empty and closed the door. "What do you mean 'deal with,' Hallun?"

"I'm not sure yet. I need to talk to Duke Cirth-Arren first. She'll have to be... contained, somehow. Taken into... 'protective custody'; maybe we can present it that way. Begin assembling whoever in the Guard you can trust, colonel."

I fought to keep my ears from splaying. "I don't know why you're suddenly so... ah..."

"What? Worried?" Hallun stood from his chair, turning to face me. His eyes were shot through in dark, dangerous fire. "Hasty? What is it? What are you accusing me of?"

"I'm_accusing_ you of nothing, Mr. Couthragn. But to be honest, sir: you have no authority over me, and you're telling me to arrest the Queen of the Iron Kingdom. You can understand how I might be... hesitant."

"Suit yourself," he snarled. "Take this order, instead: stay here. And start thinking of who you can_really_ trust. You'll need them. Keep Selva out of it."

With that he hurried from the room, all but slamming the door behind him. I didn't know what to make of his agitation, except that it was enough to put me on edge, too. Couthragn was connected, after all; whether or not the Artem-Jana Guild existed and whether or not he was part of it, his knowledge of current events was unmatched.

Who, then,could I really trust? Everyone I'd been with at Chenwyck Park, I hoped. Colonel K'nSullach thought they'd be willing to open fire on civilians at my command, and this was somewhat less drastic than that--wasn't it? What about Captain Selva?

Selva was a staunch monarchist, but I couldn't say what that meant for his loyalty, or at least not enough to argue with Couthragn. He was clearly skeptical of the queen--one didn't throw the word 'treasonous' around lightly--but we'd spent far too little time together for me to have a good sense of how he'd respond.

It was best to keep him insulated from the affair, even without the badger's warning, until we knew more--until_I_ knew more. I expected Hallun to return and didn't even bother getting ready for bed. Instead I stayed in my office, waiting for the courier to arrive. When they did, the note was brief:

Come NOW to the Iron Hall. Alone. -- HC

By that point it was two in the morning, and the summer night had begun to cool off. I felt none of it, even as the pace of my horse's gallop whipped my jacket and worked the cold air through the exposed fur of my face. The chill I felt ran deeper than simple wind.

One of the Royal Guard stopped me at Kenley Hill, taking my horse and pointing me towards one of the rear entrances to the palace. The guard wasn't one of Arn Sergid's men--I recognized him as a sergeant in Major Cavell's headquarters company.

"May I ask why you're here, sergeant?"

"Mr. Couthragn asked me, sir. He said it was important." The man coughed. "He said you'd understand in a bit. I don't--not right now. Apologies, sir."

Hallun Couthragn and Nantor, Duke Cirth-Arren were waiting with a third man I didn't recognize in one of the meeting rooms used by the Old Council. The third figure was a stern-looking deer in plain civilian clothing--one of Couthragn's colleagues, I assumed.

"Colonel Laner," Nantor greeted me solemnly. "Thank you for coming on short notice."

"Of course, your grace. Mr. Couthragn," I added, nodding to him and finally to the stag. "Sir. I'm afraid I don't know you."

"Please, sit," Nantor said. "For your benefit, this is His Royal Highness the Arkenprince Tullen."

I straightened up in my seat. "Apologies, Your Highness."

"Unnecessary," the stag replied. "Mr. Couthragn brings word of troubling news from Her Majesty. Something about a new companion she has acquired, from the east. The queen's escort, one Gevreth Selva, appears to have caught them... consorting."

"Yes."

"He'll be mistaken, don't worry," Hallun said. "He saw nothing. And as you know, colonel, you heard nothing, either," he added, addressing me directly. "The Sujetai will be dealt with by dawn. We might still be able to control the situation, but Ansha won't be happy."

Arkenprince Tullen snorted, nostrils flaring. "At this point, I don't care. How far does this go, Hallun? How much does the king know about his wife's... activities?"

"Nothing that I'm aware of. We've always managed to keep it quiet before--but, of course, it's never been anything like this."

The stag shook his head in open disgust. "Of course it hasn't. Do you know why she chose this man?"

"No, Your Highness, and as far as I'm aware Colonel Laner has no insight either, despite his past history with the queen. It might not have been a deliberate provocation..." Hallun sighed heavily, muzzle lowering. "But it's difficult not to see it that way. She has to know how the Landsmoot will react."

I perked an ear. "Sir, if I might ask--the Landsmoot? What about them?"

"They take every slight from the Lodestone Sovereign--real or not--as an insult too grievous to be born. Considering the current situation in Garstead, I don't want to think about what might happen if they learned a prisoner they'd captured had become the plaything of their sovereign's wife."

"They captured him, then? One of the border militias?"

Hallun nodded. "There's always something happening beyond the Iron Pale. He was supposed to provide evidence of a growing threat from the Sujetai tribes. The Old Council will be able to smooth that over. We'll agree the Landsmoot should be able to carry out a punitive expedition and release them this year from their tax obligations to the Royal Army.If they find out nothing else, that will be enough."

Arkenprince Tullen continued. "So they must not find out anything else. Colonel, the Royal Guard is now to take Queen Ansha into custody. She isn't to leave her wing of the palace, and you'll intercept all correspondence and visitors. Do you understand?"

"Before you answer, know that we don't want to take this to the Old Council. We will, but the resolution will be... unwieldy." Hallun Couthragn looked to have chosen the word with some precision.

Nantor Berdanish looked over at him. "How badly so?"

"We can't just detain the queen. We also have to come up with a reason why the decision has to remain sealed. I can find something, sir, but not at once. We weren't planning for this eventuality."

"But then, who was?" the Arkenprince asked rhetorically. "Colonel Laner, can it be done?"

I nodded. "Yes. I might ask Mr. Couthragn to help me with the list of soldiers, if you don't want the truth getting out."

Tullen scowled. "The truth will definitely 'get out,' colonel. The_truth_ is that with the Iron Kingdom more unstable than usual, it's important that Queen Ansha be protected from anyone who would do her harm. In the wake of a citizen's march that demanded to speak with her--a demand they had no right to make, and certainly no right to make with weapons--that's only prudent."

"I'll help with your list," Couthragn promised. "Let's get started."

***

"Aric! It's been a few days," Queen Ansha said, greeting me warmly. "You look concerned. What's going on?"

"The Old Council. They're responding to some... troubling rumors, let's say. Troubling rumors about you and a friend of yours--a barbarian, someone from the far eastern frontier."

The doe rolled her eyes. "Who I choose to spend my time with isn't any of the Old Council's concern, Aric--you know that as well as I do. They're all bluster, and I've gotten quite tired of it, I'll have you know."

"It's more serious than that. You're to be held here, in this wing of the palace."

She blinked, then narrowed her eyes--trying to decide if I was joking with her. "On what grounds would they be able to do a thing like that?"

I explained the rationale, at least as it had been presented to me. I said that the Landsmoot was being more belligerent than usual, and that the Old Council was wary of provoking them. And I suggested--hoping it was true--that the confinement would be entirely temporary.

"I don't give a damn what the Landsmoot wants or how upset they are," she responded heatedly. "Don't you see, Aric? They won't do anything--but even if they did, they don't have the_right_. They're exactly as illegitimate as any other random body who views themselves as the anointed head of a group that had no say in the matter! It's absurd."

"You did this on purpose?" I asked, momentarily forgetting my station. "You understood what would--"

"I_understood_ that the Landsmoot can't make their own foreign policy. They can't just detain anyone they like. It's not their right."

"But it's about the barbarians. It's not--those aren't... they aren't foreigners. They're just..."

"Just what? They're people, and they don't live here. That makes them foreigners. None of the settlements beyond the Iron Pale are sanctioned by us, and now the Landsmoot is trying to clear the territory they've all but invaded. If they wish to do so, expanding the borders of the Iron Kingdom is something that requires_royal_ assent, not some hot-headed militia commander."

"So you freed the prisoner. And then..."

"Allowed him to make his own choices about what would happen next. The Landsmoot can't change that. And the Old Council is blind if they think giving in to the margraves is going to stave off the inevitable."

"Ansha," I pleaded. "This isn't the time, though. There's real fighting in Garsteadshire now--people are being killed over this. It's not just about whiskey at King Rawlon's College."

She shook her head, turning from me to face the window. Dawn picked the edges of the garden's flowers out in subtle pink hints of the warm day to come. "It was never_just_ about that, Aric. It's time for the Old Council to face the same facts as you and I--time for them to see they owe the Aernian people more than they think."

I didn't dispute that the Old Council had assuredly let Aernia down, on occasion. But it was a separate matter. I repeated what I'd begun with: she was to be 'protectively' kept confined to the palace, under the watch of the Royal Guard.

"Did you approve of this?"

"I was ordered to do it."

"Did you_approve_ of it?"

I sighed, lowering my ears. "No. I don't think it's their right to do something like that. To be honest, I don't agree with you, Ansha--I respect your opinion, and I know you want a better future for us. I don't agree with your methods. But... I also don't think the Old Council has any right to do this."

"Of course they don't!" She turned back to me, stepping close enough to wrap her arms around my back. The kiss was soft; tender. And I was slow to return it, though when at last I did Ansha seemed pleased. "I knew you'd understand. I'll stay--for now."

"You will?"

"Well. My husband won't stand for this, when he finds out. But I'll tell you one thing for sure, Aric." Ansha gave me another kiss, and then a conspiratorial grin. "I'm not worried about the Old Council. You shouldn't be, either. I'll protect you."

"You will?"

"I've been queen for some time, remember? I know their dirty secrets. I know about the money that's been misdirected. The mistresses. The bastards that have been bought off, or covered up, or worse. They'll do well to remember that. If they want to posture now, well, that's one thing. But I'm not going to be bullied by them. The Arkenprinces should know that."

"But they will... they'll speculate about what it looks like. Even if they don't say so openly. Right? They'll hint about how it defiles the throne. How it--"

"Sit." I hesitated, and she glared severely. "I'm your queen. Sit."

I sat down. Ansha rolled her eyes, then adjusted her dress and kneeled in front of me. Her fingers plucked the buttons of my trousers open--two of them were undone before the swiftness of what had happened caught up to me. "Are--"

"Don't talk." She finished with the buttons and pulled my underwear down to expose my crotch. Her paw folded itself about my fuzzy sheath, and she began to stroke gently. "My personal affairs are nobody's business but my own, Aric."

I thought the truth was slightly more involved than that. But I was not to open my mouth, evidently. I didn't know if I_was_ supposed to react, but as her warm paw squeezed me that was also not entirely under my control. An inch of bare, glistening flesh was already poking free.

Ansha's finger rubbed it, her paw continuing to pump as she teased my cock forth. It didn't take long before I was panting, hips twitching at the wash of her warm breath. Little about it felt_right_, felt appropriate, felt like it showed she had any idea of how serious the allegations were. But I couldn't fight my instincts very well, and when she started talking again the distraction only worsened.

"I haven't done this with you before. But you wouldn't be my first.That isn't anyone else's business, either, although it was apparently easier to keep our secret." She smiled up at me, her look mischievous; conspiratorial. "So let me give you another one to keep."

With that she closed her lips over the pointed head of my cock. No further than that--just enough so that when she suckled down on it, and I shuddered and throbbed, the precum spilled right at the tip of her tongue. She lapped it up, and kept going.

Heat curled in a velvet, swirling ribbon over me. I gasped, spurting again--this time as I began to twitch Ansha let me go, and some of it caught her delicate nose. The doe's tongue curled to clean her nosepad. "I should stop, right?" she cooed. "Go on: you can talk now."

"This might--it might not be the time."

Her tongue worked across me in a slow, purposeful drag, the strength of its touch leaving a trail of warm pleasure in its wake. "You don't_want_ me to stop," she whispered. "Do you?"

She'd see through any equivocation I offered, I knew. "No."

"And this is just between you... and I..." And as she lowered her head, and warmth engulfed me, she took my quiet groan as an answer. I shut my eyes and forced my hips to stay still while that wet suction slid further and further down my length, until her blunt muzzle was buried in my crotch-fur.

It_had_ been an answer, of sorts. Or my surrender to that languid, torturous pleasure. She bobbed her head slowly, slurping her tongue over the contours of my shaft. My protests--for that matter my sense of duty--vanished, replaced by building, throbbing ecstasy.

And she met my rising tension skillfully. Ansha--Queen Ansha--your queen, bloody hells, Aric, she's--I let out a growl as she sank down fully, sucking hard on me as I twitched and tensed, buried deep in her muzzle. The sense of incredulity splintered and fell away.

It didn't matter who she was, because nothing changed the demanding warmth sliding over me in a quick, smooth, rhythm. My knot began to swell as the ripples of pleasure grew closer together. When it was too large to take comfortably Ansha's strokes seamlessly became shallower, bumping the base of my cock with her lips and keeping the rest of me stuffed into her.

I gritted my teeth, bucking my hips up in helpless reflex. Ansha grunted and held still. Her paw felt over my sac, caressing me as it drew up, and tightened. And then, before I could warn her my peak was_approaching_, she shifted to bring her paw around my knot, and squeezed.

My growl was useless as warning. It sounded more like triumph, or relief, and it tore free as my cock started to jerk inside her, throbbing against her tongue. Ansha moaned encouragement at the first spurt. The sound swiftly thickened, growing wetter as my cum overcame her. She swallowed hastily.

When I collapsed back into the chair, at last, she let me go and rebuttoned my trousers--carefully, mindful of my still-hard shaft, oversensitive and leaving my mind reeling with even those gentle touches. Her muzzle was immaculate. For her, there was nothing to hint at what had just happened except her smile.

"Do you think I'm...defiled?"

"No, ma'am."

The doe smiled, and carefully got back to her feet. "No. You don't, because I can make my own choices. You'll see. I don't belong to them."

***

For nearly a week, Ansha's words seemed to hold true and she stayed in place at the palace. Captain Selva kept me informed about her visitors, but most of them were fairly minor nobles and the charade of normalcy remained unchallenged.

Near the end of an unpleasantly hot workday, though, I received a message that I was needed at the Iron Hall; further, that I should come as soon as I was confident that I knew the strength and disposition of the Royal Guard.

The whole of the ride over I worried about what might have happened. Another citizen's uprising? Hallun Couthragn had been telling me the worst was over, at least in Tabisthalia. If it was something that surprised even Hallun, I figured we were all in for an unpleasant surprise.

Hallun was in the room with a well-groomed shepherd dog and a bear, neither of whom I recognized. But they were both in Royal Army uniforms, with familiar insignia, and there was only one General of the Royal Army. The dog, then, was Duke Chalver, Lord Commander of the Army; his companion was a major general.

Hallun Couthragn dispensed with formalities: the duke was simply "General Maislin," and the bear was "General Arvish, in command of the Reach. Colonel Aric Laner has been head of the Royal Guard for somewhat less than two months, but he's well-informed of the guard's status."

General Arvish had a western name, and a western accent, but her bearing had much of K'nSullach's bluntness about it. "He should, Mr. Couthragn, considering he owns a quarter of my forces."

"We'll need them back," Lord Chalver explained. "The Plowman's Army forced a depot in northern Kiath. They've captured a number of cannon and rifle. At the moment... well." He pointed to the table, where a map of the Iron Kingdom had been unfurled.

"Feel free not to spare him any details, sir," Hallun said quietly. "He's loyal. I trust him." And I gathered the enormity of the situation by the fact that the rebels now had a name.

"You trust nobody," the dog retorted at once. "You say that every time I ask. Colonel, General Olmor's 42nd nearly broke in fighting on the Theralan River. Olmor's been forced to abandon his campaign for the moment."

Hallun did not wish to leave me in the dark around the implications. "Many of the 42nd Keering have sympathies with the Midland farmers, considering where they're from. General Lord Chalver believes that the unit is unreliable."

"Those are_your_ words, Mr. Couthragn."

"Yes, your grace. They're my words, however, because you wouldn't say them. I would, and Mr. Laner needs to hear them. Basically, colonel: what can you spare from the Royal Guard? General Arvish says you have the full regiment K'nSullach wanted."

I nodded. The regiment was spread out, though; two companies were with Major Harrell and the Royal Marines on Ailaragh, and most of a full battalion had been posted at the Iron Hall to keep a more-than-ceremonial watch on the palace and its sprawling walls.

"We need four companies," Arvish told me. "But I can try to make up the difference with what we strip from you. Despite my... well, despite what I said about you having my soldiers, colonel, I know it's not easy in Tabisthalia. Not after the rioting."

And I thought about the need to keep Ansha safe. Safe,and held in the Iron Hall without arousing suspicion. "Four companies will be... difficult. The Cassalmure garrison can give up two without difficulty, and I think Major Vandan can piece together a third. When might we be reinforced?"

"Major Stanret," Hallun said.

Arvish worried her claws together. "Piet Stanret is the only reliable commander I have in that regiment, Mr. Couthragn. I told you, if there's unrest in Teppingshire, we'll need him to manage that."

"No," Lord Chalver spoke up. "Unrest in Teppingshire of that scale could only happen if we were in open civil war. Have him reassigned, and authorize whatever bonuses you feel necessary to keep the men motivated. Garstead must be reinforced immediately."

Chalver saw me looking at the map and confirmed what the markers appeared to show: a regiment-sized body of the Plowman's Army sat between General K'nSullach and General Olmor. It was too many men to defeat easily, especially not if the Royal Army's reliability was in question. Chalver wouldn't order the campaign resumed until General K'nSullach had another regiment added to her command, and the Royal Guard was needed to make up the difference.

Stripping Major Vandan of so many men left the Iron Hall woefully unguarded, and I was trying to think of how I might be able to shore it up. But Lord Chalver's orders had to take precedence, and I agreed to do what I could. After the two generals left, Hallun Couthragn tried to reassure me that Piet Stanret was a good soldier.

"It's not just that. I dislike the need to be relying on them, Mr. Couthragn."

"Understandable. You can't protect the Iron Hall with what you have. Hopefully that makes the next part more palatable. The Royal Guard needs to remove Ansha from the city. Cassalmure is safer, and she can probably be transported there without anyone knowing for... at least a few days."

"Sir?"

"The order isn't mine. It's from Nantor. The queen will be inclined to... stoke certain sensibilities regarding the fighting in Garsteadshire. It's best if she does not have visitors who might convey those sensibilities to the outside world."

"You're telling me to arrest the Queen of the Iron Kingdom," I said, flatly. "I can't do that."

"Can't you? Are your men not loyal, Aric? Haven't we been working on this since you took over command?"

"And this comes from Duke Cirth-Arren, not the Old Council?"

Hallun laughed bitterly; he could see, I think, that I would be difficult. "It does."

"The duke is asking for a military coup, then. I can't do that. I've helped you where I can, and I'll do what I must to make sure the Iron Hall can be made safe--but not this. I'm sorry, Mr. Couthragn."

Another laugh; he shook his head sadly. "I told the duke that. What do you want him to do, Colonel Laner? Seven hundred dead in Garsteadshire, and more every day. If Overkiath joins in, we'll have to call up the reserves--and everyone will know we've lost control of the Midlands."

He asked how I thought the Governor's League would react. Many were feudal land-owners, with more-or-less direct control over their demesnes. A few more were modern businessmen, inclined to see an opportunity in upsetting the balance of power on Kenley Hill.

The Governor's League, then, would come to no useful conclusions--not before the fighting had spread. "The Iron Corps and the Signalers? The Landsmoot--cargal'th, colonel, whose side will the Landsmoot pick? It's the bloody Harvest Rising all over again. This could fracture the whole bloody Concord. So again, I must ask you: what would you have the duke do?"

"Follow the law, Mr. Couthragn. If the Old Council lacks confidence in our queen, they can be public about it. King Chatherral can..."

I stopped. King Chatherral couldn't be recalled--it would only inflame the arguing as lords jockeyed for influence with the old stag. Hallun saw that I'd realized that; he gripped my shoulder heavily. "We'll have to act, colonel. I'm sorry, but that's how it is."

He let me avoid consenting, though--pragmatically, I pointed out that I didn't know who I could trust to keep Ansha imprisoned until I knew who I'd be losing to reinforce General K'nSullach's army in the south.

It was not even the first order I sent, upon returning to the barracks. First I asked for an update on the Iron Corps depot east of the city, and on any movements of the Signalers. The latter, mercenaries of the Royal Aernian Telegraph Company, generally stayed beyond the borders of the country altogether, let alone the capital city--but I wasn't willing to trust my luck there.

I sent for information from the Royal Navy, too; Lieutenant Commander Yanisca herself came to provide it. She looked exhausted. "This is about the_Valleyan Eagle_, right?"

"No? The what?" I leaned my head out the door to order a pot of coffee to my office and sat back down. "What's that? Not the stars, I guess." Valleya, the soaring eagle, had once been a mythical companion of the gods before taking permanent residence in the northern heavens.

She shook her head, then buried it in her paws. "An armed collier--don't... don't ask_why_ the Carregan Railroad has armed ships; I've quite given up p... protesting. Gods; I'm sorry. I've not slept since yesterday."

"It's fine. Was there--did something happen?"

"The_Valleyan Eagle_ was to be boarded for inspection. They didn't want to--it's not quite... I don't know what happened yet, so it's not clear. Not for sure. The commander of the HMS Atosha says they were fired upon. There was an explosion, and the Valleyan Eagle sank with all hands."

My ears went flat. "Cargal'th. But they shot first?"

"The crew of the_Atosha_ says so, and the HMS Defiance backs them up. That is not what Carregan thinks, of course. When last I heard, we were assembling a force to blockade their harbor in the Shrouded Rocks."

I asked if there'd been an official response from the company and got a shrug in answer. With half a mug of coffee in her, Lieutenant Commander Yanisca went further: everything was still half-understood rumor, including reports that the Royal Navy was preemptively firing on Carregan's shore batteries.

"Everyone's on alert. The Tabisthalia squadron sails tomorrow morning. I can't tell you where they're going until they've left." She stared at a now-empty mug; I refilled it, and the otter sighed. "What about you, colonel? Is it calmer?"

"Garsteadshire is on fire, Overkiath is next, and with any luck the Royal Army will stay on only_one_ side of the fighting."

"Selat," she gasped. "It can't be that bad."

"It can be."

"Lord Ashenar tried to resign, but the Old Council was busy with something else. Maybe that was it. I just... Gods, colonel, we need to make it through this, don't we? How do we do that? Don't tell me 'the best we can'; I'm done with that. Selat," she sighed again.

Seolva, goddess of the hunt, was so skilled with her bow that she never needed to show her teeth or claws. Hence the disbelief expressed in a phrase like 'Seolva's teeth'--yet here we were.Selat. "But it's true, Siron. That, I suppose, and we can look out for one another. If they say nobody can be trusted, we have to prove them wrong."

"Maybe." She drank half her coffee in one long pull. "I do need your help with something. I'm worried about that Railroad depot in Tersinia. They're close enough to the city that they could cause real problems, if they wanted to. And I don't trust them not to want to."

I didn't either. Technically, it was outside of the city--and, from my point of view, not really in my mandate. But I agreed with her that we had cause to be worried, and I promised that I'd do what I could--for all that mattered. "I'm not sure how the government will respond. It could be quite... sensitive, in the current climate."

"I know--when Lord Ashenar asked to send the Royal Marines in, he was told off rather strongly. That's one reason he tried to resign, but as long as they're in control of that depot they can rearm their ships from Tabisthalia harbor."

"Is that all?" She looked at me curiously. "They might also try to interfere with the docks, too, right?"

"It depends on what they calculate the risk is--that would be_very_ bold." She scowled. "What they'd really do is pay off a mob to cause trouble, like they did for you. But I'm sure even that is risky for them."

My aide-de-camp knocked for entry before I could ask why she thought the rabble in Chenwyck park had been the Railroad's doing--to that point, a mere rumor. Hallun Couthragn was waiting, accompanied by Arkenprince Tullen and a fox I thought I'd seen around the Iron Hall before. Tullen spoke first: "Lady Enari, it's good to see you. We'll need the room."

Lady Enari? The otter stood, and nodded. "Yes, Your Highness; I understand."

"Give Lord Ashenar my regards. Arren stands with him in this... difficult time."

"As does Hutwick," the fox added.

"I'll tell him, your highness," Yanisca promised, and left quickly.

I heard Hallun tell my aide to leave us; the badger closed the door and locked it. "Colonel Laner, you've not met Arkenprince Salda, but it was his desire to speak with you directly on the--"

Salda, the fox, cut him off and got directly to business. "Her Majesty the Queen Ansha needs to be taken care of. She can't be allowed to stoke insurrectionist sentiment. You know her, Mr. Laner, and according to Mr. Couthragn she trusts you. You have to convince her to come to the barracks."

"I can ask, Your Highness. I--my deepest, most sincere apologies; I don't know how to act in this case. But may I say something, despite my station?"

"Fine--yes. But be brief."

"She agreed to her confinement because she thinks it's the path of least resistance. I don't think she'll agree so easily to something more dramatic. She's not afraid of the Old Council."

Arkenprince Salda crossed his arms. "How do you know that?"

"She--"

"Ansha_told_ you that? Or you intuited it based on your relationship with the queen? Which is it, Aric," the fox demanded.

Hallun's voice was low and, given my hesitation, clearly meant as warning. "What did she say, Mr. Laner? It's best that you tell the truth."

Suddenly on edge, I took a deep breath. "She said that she had been queen for many years--that she knew the Old Council's secrets. Instances of corruption and impropriety. She said that if the Old Council wished to challenge her, she would be ready for them."

Arkenprince Tullen sighed heavily, shoulders drooping. "Oh, for the love of Æmer. Who's she been corresponding with, Mr. Couthragn?"

"Many people, your highness. All of them ones it would be within her rights to speak with... friends, family..."

"Allies?"

"I don't know."

Salda bristled, turning towards the badger. "We don't hang every last one of your 'guild' from the gaslamps because you're useful--sometimes--Mr. Couthragn. Kindly continue being that way."

He set his jaw and avoided making eye contact with the fox. "We haven't been reading her mail, Your Highness. And if we had, you might just as well be threatening to hang me for that. What we know is that she must be planning something."

"Which means she needs to be controlled. Delicately. Now, Mr. Laner, I could threaten you like I just threatened Mr. Couthragn, but do you understand_why_ this is important? It's not as simple as... disappearing some Midland street-walker who found out too much. Surely, you understand why it's important we act. This is the queen."

"And this, Your Highness, is absolutely going too far. If this is what the Royal Guard is called upon to do, I must--unfortunately--resign my commission."

"Fine. We'll find someone to take you into custody until this over. That will be all, Mr. Laner."

Arkenprince Tullen shook his head as Salda stood to leave, reaching out to put his paw on the fox's upper arm. "Hold on. Maybe we can find a way to manage this. Nan says Colonel Laner is a faithful servant to the Iron Kingdom, and not the kind we should be willing to discard so lightly. What would you suggest, colonel?"

"I know the country is a tinderbox. The Republican Society has no real means of causing trouble on their own. If there's open fighting, we can contain it. The Railroad is another matter. Take their depot, and they'll be defanged--unable to respond opportunistically."

"Seizing Railroad property is risky, and it does nothing about the queen and her threat to challenge the Council."

"I know. But you can work with her. She has contacts throughout the city--she knows who might be a real concern, I'm sure. Her consent to whatever you come up with guarantees the consent of King Chatherral himself. Think of her as an ally."

"A deeply troubling one," Salda growled.

"And yet, Talvan, it might be easier than the dubious prospect of putting the queen in the Royal Guard's dungeon. Might it not? We can at least make the attempt. Mr. Laner is right about her relationship to the king's authority--better to have_her_ proposing something than one of the Carregans, isn't it?"

"Yes, if she'd listen to anyone. You're going to name the Duke of Cirth-Arren--I've heard she's not fond of Nantor.Apparently, she doesn't think much of anyone tied to the Old Council."

"So it would seem," Tullen granted. "But there are likely some she'll be more comfortable with. Yes, I'll ask the duke to find a compromise with her majesty. If that doesn't work, Colonel Laner, we may have to consider other measures--distasteful as they might be."

"I understand that, your highness. I'll... do what I can."

Salda grunted. "I thought you said he was a fighter."

"The best kind, Tal. He knows to avoid it."

***

I'd bought myself time, but not much. What was I going to do?

If the Old Council asks her in good faith, she'll be willing to cooperate with them. If it's that or a civil war... if it's that or turning control of the country over to any feudal lord who wants to seize a piece of it... if it's that or complete chaos, then she'll be willing to cooperate. I'm sure.

But would I be able to persuade her, if I had to?

And what would happen if I couldn't? My offer to resign stood; Lissa Cavell would have to take over the Royal Guard. I supposed I would go back to Stolvan--it might not have been much, but I could make something out of life on my parents' orchard.

They'd let me, right? Surely, they'd let me. Despite the frequent threats--like how Hallun had suggested I could be disposed of when Ivra told him about me and the queen--I thought I'd likely remain safe. I wasn't even a useful bargaining chip to anyone except maybe K'nSullach, who was already on their side.

Which is why they had so little leverage. They hadn't even threatened me this time. Indeed, they'd made a point of saying they wouldn't, that--

Disappearing some Midland streetwalker who knew too much.

My heart skipped a beat. Had that been deliberate? Naming the geography seemed too large a coincidence. They must've meant Teya. K'nSullach knew about my relationship with her, and so--obviously--did Hallun Couthragn. Arkenprince Tullen had asked the badger who could be threatened to compel my action, and he'd said...

I dressed hurriedly and left for the Butcher's Quarter. Trying to be discreet, I had the carriage drop me off six blocks away at one of the market squares, which were now closing for the night. The shops no longer interested me. I walked briskly until I found myself amongst its still-busy streets.

"Help ye?" someone asked. Not her, but--judging by the ermine's dress--another of similar occupation.

"I'm looking for Miss Danveller. Do you know her? A dog, medium height, she--"

The ermine waved her paw dismissively. "Of course, aye, I know Teya. She's with another man, y'know. Or she was, not an hour ago. What's your business with her?"

"I'm a friend. I have a message for her, and it's somewhat urgent. Do you know where I might be able to find her?"

She gave me an address, and told me to look for a different dog: a mongrel I'd be able to find by his ill-fitting jacket and hat.Always puttin' on airs, Mick is, she lamented. Don't anybody buy it, that's for sure. 'E manages Teya's money. 'E'll know.

I both immediately found and immediately disliked Mick, whose clothing badly aimed to give the impression of class. The jacket's elbows had been patched inexpertly, and his bowler was a cheap imitation of Tabisthalia's better haberdashers. Coarse, ill-smelling redleaf packed the pipe jammed into his muzzle.

"Soldier," he grunted. "Can tell it by the way you stand. Not a constable--no authority here. So why don't you fuck off?"

"I'm not here to cause trouble for you. I thought you might know where I could find Teya Danveller, though."

"Teya? It's that urgent? At least she's worth the money, then, eh?" He gave an ugly laugh, and pointed me towards a nearby alley. "Check there, I guess."

A doorway in the alley was slightly ajar; warm gaslight spilled into the night. My knock pushed the door further open, and I found Teya just inside with a sewing needle in her right paw. "Oh--hello, Aric."

It was the first room of a small inn--now that I looked around it, the same inn where I'd first met the dog. "Hello. Can we speak in private?"

She eyed the garment she was mending, then nodded. "I suppose. Mey," she called out; a woman behind the inn's counter perked her ears. "A room?"

"Already? Starting to envy you and your regulars," Mey said, before pulling out an old, iron key. "Third on the right, this time. Reckon they ain't cleaned up after ya in the other one."

"The night has been busy," Teya explained to me--quietly, as though she was a little put off by how direct the innkeeper had been. She closed the door behind us and took a seat on the bed. "Does something trouble you?"

"Yes, it does. To be direct: you're not safe here. You should leave the city."

The dog's head tilted heavily. "Tabisthalia, you mean? Why?"

There was a certain irony to my situation: the princes had threatened Teya because they thought I might have told her something sensitive. I had not, but convincing her of the threat to her life would require me to do so.

I didn't think I had a choice, but I tried to keep it brief and light on the details. Teya leaned back on the bed, eyeing me severely. "Are you saying you've put me in danger?"

"Yes. Guilty as charged. But I'm trying to get you_out_ of danger, too."

"I wonder if that explains the other guard soldiers," she mused. "The one just before you. Some rabbit; I didn't get his name. He said he was on official business, but... well, he was willing to take it a bit beyond that."

"A rabbit?" The Royal Guard had no mandate in the Butcher's Quarter, and I couldn't think of anyone who might have been sent on a special assignment. All I could guess was that Hallun had been behind it, somehow. "They weren't doing it on my account. But yes, perhaps. They know about you, is the point."

Teya sighed. "Where should I go?"

"Overkiath. Back to Stolvan--I can give you money for the fare."

"And then what?" For this, I had no answer, and she shook her head. "I'm not leaving Tabisthalia. This is my home, Aric... I won't be chased out of my home. Not for vague threats. We get enough of those, you know; I see enough clients who think they're above the law and want to throw their weight around. Meydria has the house well-guarded for a reason."

"This isn't an unhappy client, though--not some drunk with a knife. They've killed people already. At our level, Teya, our names don't even register in the Iron Hall. They wouldn't think twice about it."

"I'm still not leaving. I guess that means I'll die here, if it comes down to that. Aric, I appreciate your concern, but I don't have anywhere else to_go_."

She was probably right--and for that matter,I didn't have anywhere to go, either. If the arkenprinces wanted my head, they'd surely find me in Stolvan. I sat next to her on the bed. "Alright. Then you'll stay. But..."

"And maybe things will work out. You do seem worried..." She took my paw, and squeezed softly. "You worry a lot. Ever since the fire, and the fighting."

"It's even worse now."

Her grip tightened. "Worse than before, or worse than outside? The things I hear about Garstead aren't very nice, either."

No, I had to admit, they weren't. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to become involved at all. They--the Old Council itself, I mean--they want me to do something for them. A favor. I protested, and they threatened you, and..."

"And you felt guilty?"

Did I?

I had no obligation to Teya Danveller. We talked on occasion--never anything more than that. She was just some woman from my hometown, barely even a friend. Barely more than a tie to my old life, to whatever came before the chaos and pomp of the Tabisthalian court.

And yet I cared more about Teya than I did any of the lords. I cared more for her fate than I did that of Arkenprince Tullen, to be sure.More than Ansha, admit it. You care more about Danveller than you do about your own queen, because... Not out of guilt, I decided. I cared more about her because she was more comprehensible. More like me.

I didn't answer her question. "Can you at least leave the quarter for a few days?"

"And go where?"

"To the docks. Tonight, as soon as I'm gone." I found my coinpurse and gave her the whole thing. "Find an otter, Lieutenant Commander Siron Yanisca. Tell her that I'm working on what she asked, but in return, she should keep you safe until this blows over."

"And will it?"

***

I'd already resigned myself to a night of sleepnessness, but the knock at the door to my quarters came even earlier than I'd feared. Outside, morning was still weighing its options; the lightening sky kept most of Cassalmure in shadow.

"There's a guest requesting an audience with you, sir," my aide-de-camp informed me. "It's the badger, Mr. Couthragn."

I was not so naïve as to think he might be visiting with good news. Even if Hallun had been given to such things, the haste of his arrival suggested something urgent. As I dressed myself and headed down the hallway to meet him, I wondered what it might have been.

Most probably, something with the Railroad--perhaps he didn't know I'd already spoken to Yanisca; even if he knew_that_, he might have learned something new that he felt deserved my attention. Failing that, something with the Old Council and their attempts to negotiate with Queen Ansha.

The moment I saw who was with him, my blood turned to ice. Captain Selva stiffened to attention: his expression deepened my concern further. "At ease," I told him, carefully. "What's going on?"

Selva looked to Hallun; the badger only shook his head. Captain Selva cleared his throat. "Queen Ansha told me that she needed me to do something--to take a message to someone, ya? Like you said I should be willing to do, sir."

"That's right."

"Well, ah. I left, sir, I'd not gone more than four blocks before this man, here, he stopped me. He told me that you'd need to talk to me. I said that I was on official business of, ah, of the Royal Guard. Sir. He told me that if I didn't come with him, there would be... 'consequences.' He... knows things about me."

"Mr. Couthragn, what's the meaning of this?"

"If I thought Captain Selva was potentially compromised, colonel, you'd already know. I informed him of certain truths regarding his family's business, which he might not wish to have exposed to the wider world. It was enough to purchase some caution on his part. And it avoided other, less... savory means of having this conversation. He doesn't know where he was going."

"I do. Marjure Street 51, sir, in Danreth. I believe it's the office of a doctor, ya? But Queen Ansha didn't say. She just told me to take the note."

"Please hand it over to Colonel Laner," Couthragn said. The letter was stamped with Ansha's unbroken seal; I took it hesitantly. "You should open it and read it."

"I do not in any sense have the authority to open the queen's seal."

Hallun growled and, before I could protest, took the letter from me. He sliced it open with a claw and shoved it back in my direction. "We don't have time for this. I came to you rather than Nantor because I want to have your opinion on it first."

I took and unfolded the letter, which was written in Ansha's neat, unmistakable hand.

Mr. Carzal Loryddan,

I follow with a mixture of dismay and interest the proceedings in Garsteadshire, where it seems the citizenry are in open revolt against His Majesty and the government, having born repeated injury on His Majesty's account. It is my sincerest hope that the bloodshed is halted quickly, but as one close to the reins of power, it seems to me all too often that sincerest hopes fall well short of action in securing such noble ends.

"Do you know who this is going to?" I asked.

"Mr. Loryddan, presumably," Hallun said. "Is that correct? He's an official with the Carregan Transcontinental Railroad. Dr. Kirchvar is often in contact with him."

It is with mixed dismay and interest, as well, that I hear rumors that your company might be directly involved in this affair: that you may be lending material aid to the Plowman's Army, that their challenge to His Majesty's forces amount to something other than futility and massacre. I would not presume to ask for confirmation of these rumors. I know the Railroad's strengths, and I know they include political wisdom as well as military might.

I prevail upon you to consider a situation here in which the two might intertwine. I believe the Aernian Old Council intends to seize power, beginning by taking me into custody and disappearing me from any means with which I might contact my supporters--including His Majesty himself. It may even be that the Royal Army, in the guise of its Royal Guard, is enlisted to accomplish this injustice.

The presence of your "Iron Corps," experienced veterans all, would surely dissuade them from considering such a course of action. Were such a force to present itself at the Iron Hall, I would have no choice but to surrender myself into your care, where you might find me a useful ally in obtaining your own ends. There is no one closer to His Majesty the King, and no one who might be more effective in increasing the power and authority of your Railroad.

The time for decisive action is upon us, and the window to secure this aid for yourself and your company quickly dwindles. I urge you to consider your best course of action, and await your reply.

My thumb brushed over the queen's signature, and I thought of our last meeting with the Republican Society. How Ansha had disparaged the Railroad, and Scad Kirchvar countered that the Society had_allies_.

The time is coming, Ansha, when they might prove to be useful. And you'd do well to remember that. I took a deep breath and closed the letter. "Do you know its contents, Mr. Couthragn?"

"I can imagine. My imagination is why I intercepted Captain Selva, and why I've come to you. Captain Selva should be detained while we discuss the next course of action."

"He hasn't done anything wrong."

"I mean it for his security, not as a punitive measure. You understand that unpleasant outcomes have now been made inevitable. I think you would do well to limit who is... sacrificed."

Selva was so unsettled that he seemed quite relieved when I told him to stay in his quarters until summoned. I put the letter on my desk and buried my head in my paws. "Cargal'th. What will you tell your superiors?"

"I suggest," Couthragn answered, "that you should be somewhat less concerned about what I'll tell my superiors, and more concerned with what they'll tell_me_."

"Unpleasant outcomes?" I asked, echoing his words back to him.

"And ones you should wish to be insulated from, yes. I fear the path we now embark on isn't for you. I'd rather it wasn't one for me, but it comes with the nature of my service to the Iron Kingdom..."

"I serve the empire too, Mr. Couthragn. You've brought me this far, haven't you?"

The badger stared at me for a long time. At last he nodded. "So I have. It's no longer a matter of simply imprisoning the queen. The Old Council will call for her head, when they find out. They have to."

"What will the king do?"

The look he gave me was odd. Almost confused, as though he'd misjudged me somehow. "His Majesty will not find out. Should he? Would it make the empire stronger? No, of course it wouldn't. So he'll be kept in the dark. To do so, though, requires keeping the Old Council in the dark as well."

"You mean you'll murder Queen Ansha without telling them? You? On your own?"

"Tullen will know, and perhaps Arkenprince Salda. The rest--like King Chatherral--need know only that Her Majesty suddenly took ill. A matter of some tragedy, given the troubled times we live in. But perhaps..." He sighed. "She was popular, in certain quarters. Perhaps the period of mourning will bring the country together."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. But Arkenprince Tullen joined us, a few minutes later, and when he suggested I leave the room Couthragn shook his head:he already knows. Tullen nodded. "You were close," the stag said. "You and the queen."

His use of the past tense was immediately chilling. "Yes, Your Highness. We were."

"I had hoped that you'd be right about her, colonel. I hoped we could negotiate with her. Otherwise... we feared this day would come. 'He already knows'--the letter must be as bad as you feared it would be, Mr. Couthragn? Mr. Couthragn saw it the moment she began to align herself with the city's radicals. Nan..." the prince gave a soft, sad laugh. "Nan thought he was being absurd. He had this notion... he thought she might be controlled. She was always stronger of will than that."

"Do you think she might not be dissuaded?" I asked. "Still?"

I was thinking about the aftermath of the fire in Tallachet--how immediately she'd wanted to come to the aid of the displaced citizens. How she did not know_what_ to do, but wanted to do something nonetheless. At heart, the doe did not hunger for power. At heart, she had good intentions for her people.

Neither Hallun nor the arkenprince criticized me for questioning them, or for speaking my mind in the presence of royalty. Hallun pointed towards the cabinet behind me. "A drink, colonel? Do you still have that whiskey?" I got out a cup and filled it for the badger. Tullen, too, nodded when I looked at him, and I poured the prince a drink as well.

He looked into the cup, shook his head, and took a healthy swallow. "Proper Baric whiskey. Would that we had something like that in Arrenshire--there are times a cider won't really do."

"For me, I'd rather we were in one of the times it_would_." Hallun sipped his whiskey more deliberately. "It's too late for dissuading, colonel. Think of the risks. What would happen if she were to change her mind?"

I tilted my head. "About working with the Railroad?"

"About her place in the court, or about the Old Council--any exercise of power. Which, obviously, she thinks she has, given the way she threatened blackmail over the council. Now, to be quite clear on the matter: Queen Ansha doesn't know as much as she thinks she does, and what she knows doesn't carry the weight she hopes. Still, she's given it a dangerous amount of thought."

"Any amount of thought," Tullen said. He had helped himself to the bottle, recharging his cup. "Any amount of thought would be dangerous."

"Perhaps."

"Definitely." The stag was resolute on this matter. "She wanted to involve herself in court politics and never really had the skill that entailed. That's why Nan was wrong to think it harmless. She was going to go too far, and..."

"And?"

The prince didn't answer Hallun's question. He finished the whiskey and set the cup on my desk gently. "We let her down, I suppose, didn't we? Truthfully, we did. Could've done a better job protecting her."

"In our own way, we still are. She'll be remembered kindly, rather than as the queen who tore the country apart. Nobody will have to know anything. Not even her."

"What do you mean?"

Hallun produced a small bottle, a brown vial stopped with a cork. "It will be undetectable. In her wine, or... something of that nature, I guess. She'll drift off, and what doctor would suspect anything when she's found peacefully in her bed, with nothing amiss? If they_do_ suspect anything, it won't be anything I can't manage."

"Who will you find to do it? Who do you trust?"

"Me." Hallun sounded haunted already. "I wouldn't give it to anyone else. Besides, Your Highness, anyone who knows me would know they'd be a loose end to deal with--not much of an incentive to do what I ask of them."

"True, true..."

I spoke up, feeling like I was in a dream. "I'm already a loose end. I can take care of it for you. Maybe it will even be easier if I do. I don't know what you'll do to me, Mr. Couthragn, but I'm not sure it even matters. I'm not sure it can get worse. This city is..." The carriage-driver who brought me to Tabisthalia called the city 'sick.'Not one who goes there but winds up wishing he hadn't. "I don't know. But I'm fine if I don't see it again, whatever that means."

"You'd volunteer yourself?" Tullen asked. "Well, but you are a soldier, though..."

"Yes. So I'd do it. There's a condition, though."

He didn't question what I thought of my station, to be offering 'conditions' to one of the arkenprinces. "What is it?"

"I need to close the Railroad depot in Tersinia, in case they act on their own. I'm sure they'll protest to the Governor's League and the Old Council when I do. If I... if I'm the one to kill her," I said--why euphemize it? "I would like to make sure the Royal Guard is protected."

"We'll handle it, lad. Don't worry."

***

They came with me to the Iron Hall, but from the entrance to the queen's wing of the palace I was alone. Arkenprince Tullen went to speak to the guard, ensuring that they vacate the premises. The queen's aide let me in; I told her to give us some privacy and she departed obligingly.

Siwa, Baroness Keovan--you're getting good at recognizing all these names... all these faces... and what will happen to her_, when this is all over? Another loose end--someone else who can guess at what happened. Maybe it's best not to think of all that_. As if I could avoid it. Ansha was sitting down when I arrived, and she remained seated. "Hello, Aric."

I joined her, in the comfortable chair I'd occupied countless times before. The table between us, where she'd talked of poetry and we'd played at Reid's Keep, was empty. "Good morning."

"Can I help you? You look upset."

"A little. Where's Captain Selva? You know how important it is that you be kept under guard."

"'Under guard'? Perhaps in a less luxurious cell?" she asked. "Yes, I know what you're going to tell me, Aric. The Royal Guard is going to take me to Cassalmure and lock me in the dungeon. I don't know what you expect to happen after that..."

I couldn't help noticing that my question about Captain Selva remained unanswered. "What do you mean?"

The doe shrugged airily. "The news_will_ get out if they try--and if they're successful, which I highly doubt. The Guard isn't as reliable as you might want. And when it does, my husband will free me--there will be consequences for the ones who planned the whole notion. I'll make sure you get out of it, though... it wasn't your idea."

I swallowed heavily. At once I knew Hallun's idea of subterfuge was untenable--specifically because I could've executed it. Specifically because she would've trusted me. Specifically because, as the arkenprince had said, Ansha wasn't as good at politics as she thought.

"What? Don't tell me it_was_ your idea, Aric. You said yourself you don't think it's their right."

"It isn't. But there's... there is a difference between what's right, and what they'll do. They're not going to take you prisoner, Ansha."

"No, they're not. That's a little secret of mine. The Old Council is growing too convinced of their own power. They've forgotten their place. It_might be_, Aric, that someone stops them."

"By force?"

"If so, there would be a crisis in the court. We would have the chance to finally reform this government into something less archaic. When that moment comes, consider what side you'll end up on." She grinned. "It could be a wonderful opportunity for you. Me, I don't want anything to do with the court. But you could be a good leader."

"Ansha."Do you hear what you're saying? Are you suggesting a coup? A revolution? But as I prepared to ask these questions, I was reminded that none of them mattered. The outcome was no longer something to be debated. "Captain Selva was intercepted carrying a letter. It was in your handwriting, addressed to someone in the Carregan Transcontinental Railroad."

The doe stiffened. The fingers folded in her lap tensed. "But you didn't open it, though. That's why you're here?"

"I'm here because it_was_ opened, Ansha. Arkenprince Tullen knows. The prince says there's only one remedy."

She looked away; her breathing had gotten shallow. "What's that, then? Bring me before the Old Council? Put me on trial? For what--treason?"

"The Old Council has yet to be informed." I brought the bottle from my pocket, and set it gently on the table. "They might not be."

"Exile, then? What 'remedy' do those idiots suggest?" She turned back. Noticing the bottle, her head jerked up and she stared directly at me. "What's that?"

"The remedy."

"That's absurd. Put it away.Put it away, Aric." Her voice quailed. For the moment, to spare her, I slipped it back into my pocket. "They're not serious. Right? Aric, they're not serious about something like this--I'm their queen."

"The queen of the Aernian people," I said, trying to be gentle. "As you've said yourself many times. What if you'd been successful? If the Iron Corps defeated the Royal Guard--maybe killed us all, to make sure of it--what would happen then?"

Queen Ansha swallowed thickly; the hidden bottle weighed heavily on us both. "The Old Council would have to talk to me. They couldn't just ignore what I had to say."

"They're not ignoring it, Ansha. They're taking it very seriously--as seriously as anything. If the Railroad had you as a hostage they could extract whatever concessions they wanted. Would that be better for Garstead?"

"How could it be worse?"

"Because your husband is with the Royal Guard and the Royal Navy. They'll be the ones advising him, not you. Someone will convince him that a rebellion of this boldness must be crushed immediately. The Royal Army is hesitant to fight farmers in Garsteadshire--but_this_? This, they'd fight, and the Landsmoot would join them."

"You don't know that, though," she insisted. "The Republican Society convinced me of something. The Railroad is run by businessmen, and they want what's good for business... not a civil war. I can deal with them--it can be a... a trade, a transaction."

"That trade isn't yours to make. The Royal Guard is sworn to the monarchy--I would've done anything to protect you, Ansha. But even trading_our_ lives isn't your right."

She fell silent. It was another minute before she spoke, echoing my words back to me. "Would've done," she murmured. "Would have done anything."

"My life is still yours. I'm under no illusion about what will happen to me, too. This isn't something I can stop. Not any more. All I can do is be honest with you."

Ansha closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. Over the course of a dozen, deep breaths she steadied the shakiness. "What do you mean," she said at last. "What do you mean about being honest?"

"Many things. It was suggested that I not tell you. That might've been easier but, I think, it would also have been wrong. You deserve to know."

Her eyes were still closed. "Thank you."

"You deserve to know_why_, too. They--we--I--can't let this go. I can't pretend you didn't try to conspire against the Aernian government. The honesty I owe you is that... that I understand why. I understand how you see its flaws. But this can't be forgiven. I can't forgive you."

"And this? You said it wasn't the Old Council's right to detain me--how is_this_ right?"

Her pointed question gave me pause. Even if the logic of it was irrelevant. Even if answering it changed nothing, because our course had already been set. "Ansha, do you remember when you told me that if my history in the Royal Army ever mattered, that I should share it with you?"

"Yes. I do."

"When we finally went on the offensive in Dhamishaya, it was to take back--'pacify,' they said--the rebel towns. One of them... it was a city on the river, a major port. And in the war, the ports were sympathetic to the rebels. This was a strategic center, and we were told to expect heavy fighting to recapture it."

By that point in the war, the Landsmoot had assembled a militia army and forced it through one of the northern passes. Even though they were our allies--even though we were both Aernian--it was hinted that the Royal Army should be the one to retake towns, just in case. And so they'd committed us to the task of bringing the port city under control.

"But when we arrived, there were no rebels. The town let us in without a fight. I heard the argument between my regimental commander and the native liaison, the one who was responsible for scouting. Basically, our commander asked why they'd lied to us. The scout said he hadn't: the town was a rebel stronghold."

We proceeded cautiously, of course, never knowing when it would all turn. Waiting for the ambush, the booby-traps, the surprise appearance of the rebel army. It didn't happen, though. My company was the first to reach the town hall: the first to understand why.

"At first we thought the mayor had been murdered. Then we found the note. The rebels--some of them--wanted to fight, and the mayor belonged to a caste with rebel sympathies. But he'd broken the lock to the powder room, and spiked the cannon."

"What does that mean?"

"Disabled them. We couldn't use the guns, but neither could the city's defenders. In the note, he begged us to spare the town. He knew they'd lose eventually--the war was turning by that point--and fighting would destroy the city. And worse than that, it would invite the city to turn on itself. You know, loyalist neighborhoods seeing us as allies and taking their revenge on the rebels for everything that happened during the occupation."

"I see," the queen said.

"The Aernian soldiers who found the cannons also found the people he'd sent to disable them. It was too late to have stopped them, but the rebels exacted their vengeance before leaving. I think the mayor was right: it would've been like that everywhere if there'd been a battle."

"I see," she repeated. Her voice was barely audible. "And you think it could happen in the Iron Kingdom."

"I think it's already happening. Garsteadshire and the Shrouded Rocks... they might be just the start. The Royal Army could refuse to put down the uprising. Not everyone in the Governor's League would see that as an opportunity to take power, but some of them would. The Landsmoot? The corporations? I don't know what side they'd pick."

"So I should be... out of the picture? Do you think that, Aric? I should follow the mayor's example?"

"I believe that having the_royal family_ undermine the government's authority would embolden many, many people who shouldn't be emboldened. The Railroad, in particular. They're already too powerful in Tabisthalia, that's what I think--when I was attacked in Coopersrace? In the market? Colonel K'nSullach thought it might've been them who intervened."

"The market," Ansha whispered. "I remember that."

"I think asking them for help looks like forgiving how far they've trespassed already. The government_needs_ to be stronger than that. Maybe it hasn't always protected every Aernian, Ansha, but at least you're supposed to. And least they should think they can trust you, not..."

"Not what?"

"Not think that you would sell them out to the Railroad mercenaries for your own safety, and hope the consequences weren't too severe."

"Is that what I did?"

I didn't say anything. It was a bold accusation--probably too bold. But there was a core truth to it, and Ansha saw that. For a time, waiting for my answer, she watched my face. And then, at last, her gaze lowered.

She gestured to my pocket, without making eye contact with me. "Let's see it?" I handed her the bottle, and the doe took it, folding her paws tight around the glass to keep her fingers steady. "Do you know... do you know how long it... takes?"

"No."

Ansha uncorked the vial, sniffed it carefully; sealed it again. "Hallun gave it to you, I assume? I assume Hallun would be the one to do something like that." I said nothing. She smiled. "You don't have to betray your sources, I suppose."

"If you think it would help? If it would make things easier..."

"It wouldn't, I guess." She closed her eyes for a few seconds, took a deep breath, then uncapped the bottle and downed it before either of us could say anything further. Another deep breath: she looked at the bottle, carefully slipped the cork back in and set it on the table. "It's not as bad as all that. When it's your time for this."

"I suspect it won't be quite so subtle," I admitted, taking the bottle and putting it back in my pocket. Even after drinking the contents, Ansha relaxed when the thing was no longer visible.

She sat quietly for a minute. "I... I'm sorry. For many things... I_am_ sorry for letting you down--I think I let you down. You were never just a guard... not even just a companion."

"I know. And I..." How could I phrase it? "You were in a difficult position. Royalty obliges you to be in a difficult position. I'm sure I didn't understand all of it."

Ansha lowered her ears and then, a moment later, her muzzle as well. "When you were attacked in the Coopersrace Market... I should've told you more about what I knew. Not... not because it would've helped, but because it was the right thing for me to do. I think it might've been the Railroad who saved you, too, but I couldn't... I didn't want to ask those questions."

"Because they're not supposed to be in Tabisthalia?"

She tightened her paw into a fist, worrying her slender fingers together. "Yes. And if I'd learned a truth like that, I might've been obligated to pursue it. And at the time... it was easier not to risk that over... over you."

"I'm not going to be as coarse as to say that we're expendable, we soldiers--but part of the job is understanding when we're_more_ expendable than the country as a whole. I do understand that."

"But it was wrong." Ansha closed her eyes for a few seconds. "What will become of my sons? You'll make sure... or someone--someone will? Will they be safe?"

"I believe so. They're with His Majesty, anyway. They won't be harmed."

She nodded. "That's... that's good. I hope Enthar will be a good king, Aric. I want him to be a good king. I think that I don't want_any_ king, but if it's our way... if it's the way of our kind--do you understand, though?" The queen's voice had begun to soften and muddy. "I wanted so much more for Aernia."

I reached across the table to take her paw; she squeezed mine back, faintly. "I know you did. The Iron Kingdom can still change, Ansha. Enthar will be good for that. He has the same compassion you do."

The doe shook her head weakly. "More than that. Someone has to know what... what the city is. What it really is. Enthar has glimpses, but not... no, the city is more than that. Tell him."

"Tell him what?"

Our eyes met, briefly, but then it seemed as if she was looking past me. "About everything. Everything I saw, Aric--everything. I had this dream, this... this vision. Of Kenley Hill, in the morning, and... and the light in the gardens. There was a glow, this orange light, as if... as if..."

"Ansha?"

She swallowed, trying to compose herself. "The city is--you have to see too, Aric. The..." A long pause followed. "Oh, gods. No. No--Aric. I'm not ready. I'm not ready, do you hear? Please, I'm not--I--" She tried to get up and toppled forward heavily, knocking the table into me.

"Careful!" But, as if she didn't hear me, she pushed herself up--then slid from the table and to the floor. Gently as I could, I got my paws beneath the doe and pulled her back to her seat; her body was growing heavy, her breathing odd and shallow.

"No, no, no..." she murmured, voice slurring. "Not yet..."

I held her as the trembling of her struggle to stay conscious eased, and surrender drew nearer. What could I say? Nothing. There was nothing to say, as she relaxed, and drew a faltering breath. Nothing to do but listen.

"The light, my love. The... the gardens, and the city in... at morning, it's so..."

Without finishing, her head slumped and there was no resistance when I laid her against the back of the chair. Her breath caught, and hitched. And then, with a sigh, it stopped altogether.

I waited; listened, straining my ears.

Nothing.