“He makes the blades, and she makes the coin,” Shana said.
“Yes.” I nodded. “Diodor’s daughter, Indora, is ambitious and impatient. Dreantia has her on a short leash, and Indora wants her father to take over the family, so she can run it instead of her aunt. But she lacks support, so she needs to borrow someone else’s hands to shove Dreantia aside.”
“What about the iron?” Clover asked.
“I’m getting to that. There is a reason why the Yolentas are the Keepers of the Iron, but not the Lords of it. All iron in Rellas belongs to the Throne. The Yolentas are allowed to work the mines, but the king determines how much of the ore they keep, how much they sell, and to whom. Especially when it comes to gray iron.”
To Rellas, gray iron had the same strategic value that plutonium did in our world. Sauven wanted to know exactly what happened to it.
“Dreantia is skimming off the top,” I said.
They looked at me with blank expressions.
“She underreports the mine yields and secretly sells the excess outside of the kingdom. She is choosy about the price, not the buyers.”
“That’s treason,” Reynald said. “Sauven will rip her heart out.”
“Dreantia knows that. She’s been bribing the right people for years. Even counting all those bribes, she makes a nice profit, and all of it goes directly into her secret vault.”
I drank the last of my tea. This would be a longish explanation.
“Indora discovered that her aunt was embezzling and sensed an opportunity. If this theft is exposed, Sauven will lose his shit and Dreantia will lose her life. Indora’s father would be the natural successor. Reporting the theft would do no good. Dreantia pays her bribes on time, so if Indora tried to turn her in, nothing would happen and Dreantia would be informed. Indora must draw attention to the embezzlement without leaving herself vulnerable.”
“There is a nice little rebellion brewing on the border with the Selva Dukedom,” Reynald said, his eyes iced over. “And the rebels require iron for weapons and armor. When the word of them arming themselves reaches Sauven, he will send the royal inspectors to the nearest iron producer, the Yolentas. They are the most obvious suspects. Bribing the inspectors won’t work. They fear Sauven much more than they love money. They will open Dreantia’s books, discover the theft, and her life will be forfeit.”
He had put it all together.
“Exactly,” I said. “The iron for the rebels has to come from somewhere. Indora can’t steal it from the Yolentas’ mines—they are watched too closely by her aunt’s people. Nor can she buy it abroad, because Dreantia pays attention to her spending.”
“Hreban.” Reynald spat the word like it was poison.
“Yes. Hreban is quietly training a private army. He will need weapons and armor. He and Indora struck a deal. He supplies her with iron he buys elsewhere, and she smuggles it in with pink salt and distributes it to the rebels. In return, when she takes over the family, she will funnel weapons and armor to his troops.”
The partnership between the monarchs of Rellas and the Keepers of Iron was centuries old. As a ruler, you would want your most trusted ally to run the mines. When dynasties changed, so did the identity of the Keepers, although the Yolentas had kept the iron the longest. They had the gift of Copper Glean. Their magic allowed them to find mineral wealth beneath their feet and granted them enhanced understanding of metallurgy.
When the Savarics took the throne centuries ago, the Yolentas were their greatest allies. But time and greed had eroded that bond. Indora Yolenta had no qualms about throwing her lot in with Ulmar Hreban.
“But why Falcon Point?” Will asked. “How does it connect?”
“Dreantia isn’t stupid. She also wants to know where the rebel iron is coming from, and she suspects that there is a traitor in the family. Last month Dreantia replaced the head commander of the knights guarding Kryss Britin with Sir Drogen, her loyal dog. Indora paid off the inspectors, but with Drogen looking over their shoulder, her barrels won’t pass. She needs the knights to disappear for the day so she can push her salt caravan through.”
“It’s a distraction,” Lute said. “But why would the knights drop everything and ride to rescue a small fort?”
“That’s the best part.” I smiled at him. “Falcon Point is where Dreantia hides her stolen gold. She will do anything to protect it.”
“That is clever,” Clover murmured.
I faced the Magnars. “Filderon is due to ship out in two days. If we do nothing, all of those mercenaries will die a pointless death. If we do something, we will draw attention to ourselves.”
And hit the timeline with a hammer the size of Gort’s maul.
Silence claimed the table.
“The company can’t ship out without the broker,” Will said. “Filderon is the linchpin.”
“Take him out and it all falls down,” Lute said.
“How is our friend Filderon?” Shana said. “I haven’t seen him in ages. We should have dinner.”
