A soldier entered, bowing low. “Imperial Majesty, we have an urgent report.”
Zarrah swallowed the part of her that was a woman, a wife, a person, and embraced that which was only the empress. “What is it?”
He stepped aside to allow one of her advisors inside, a servant also entering to set down a tray of letters before departing.
Her advisor bowed low. “Imperial Majesty. We have received word that a wasting disease is striking several cattle herds, which have necessitated culling to prevent the spread. Yet despite efforts, there are signs that it has already infected new herds. The farmers are requesting financial aid from the crown.”
Zarrah’s stomach dropped. With famine heavy upon Maridrina, it wasn’t just her own people who depended on the meat from those animals. “When did this begin? How?”
“Recently.” He heaved a large sigh. “It’s believed the origin is breeding stock imported from Harendell, as theirs are a bulkier breed. They were kept separate, but an infected bull escaped his pen and entered the primary herd. The disease spreads rapidly.”
“Take all measures to contain it,” she ordered without hesitation. “Military support to keep it contained, and have them begin immediately culling full herds. I will compensate the farmers for their losses.”
“Imperial Majesty—” her father started.
Zarrah held up a hand to forestall his protests that the crown couldn’t afford the measures. “If farmers fear for their income, they will resist the cull, and the disease will continue to spread. See it done, and done swiftly.”
Her advisor nodded and bowed low before departing.
Zarrah looked to her father. “I know what you aimed to say. That the coffers are drained and we can’t afford it.”
Arjun shook his head. “I aimed to suggest that we finally put effort into retrieving the wealth the Devil’s Island current deposited in the prison. Daria told me there are buried caches in multiple places on the island.”
A small solution in a sea of problems.“Do it.”
As the door shut behind him, leaving Zarrah alone in the room, she opened one of the windows to allow in the breeze. It carried with it the scent of Pyrinat and the harbor beyond, and she inhaled, trying to find a measure of calm. She moved to her desk and refilled her teacup, feeling the weight of obligation pressing down on her.
I need you here.
On the heels of the thought, her eyes tracked to the stack of letters on the tray. The one on top was held closed with thick wax marked with Edward’s seal. Picking it up, she slid her knife beneath the wax and unfolded the heavy paper.
Dearest friend…Zarrah broke off reading, realizing that it was yet another of Edward’s letters to Keris. They kept up a regular correspondence of gossip and exchanges of trivia, which Keris found endlessly amusing. She started to set it down, but then paused, because within every letter was always some tidbit hidden within code.
Dipping her pen into a pot of ink, Zarrah began underlining the letters that matched his usual cipher, her stomach dropping as the message revealed itself.
I will have wed William to Lestara by the time you receive this. Forgive theseeming betrayal of our friendship. As one who has risked all for love, you will one day understand everything, but know I regret the hurt my actions will cause you and your family.
She could barely breathe, it feeling as though her lungs were being squeezed by a steel band. It took long weeks for letters to travel from Verwyrd to Pyrinat. Longer still if the storms slowed traffic to the entrances of the bridge.
Which meant Lestara and William would already be wed. Lestara, the woman responsible for the sacking of Vencia, was the future queen of Harendell.
Dragging open a desk drawer, Zarrah dug through the contents to find what she was looking for. In a few short strides, she crossed the room and flung open the door. “I need a message sent with all haste to Queen Sarhina asking to meet me in Nerastis.”
The waiting guards blinked, then one asked, “Is there a letter to go along with the request?”
“None necessary,” Zarrah replied, heading in pursuit of her father. “By the time our messenger reaches her, Sarhina will already know why.”
7
James
The rain had mercifully ceasedduring his ride through the night, but the wind cut deep against his soaked clothes as James dismounted outside the garrison. It was located in a small village at the base of the Blackreach foothills, a small structure sitting between an alehouse and a general store that housed only a handful of soldiers on most days. Today it was swarming with them, the picket line out front boasting two dozen horses.
“Walk her dry and then get her a stall in the barn,” James instructed the soldier who took Maven’s reins. “She’s proven her worth when I needed her most.”
“Yes, sir.”
The door to the garrison swung open, and a frazzled-looking man with a cloud of fluffy blond curls sticking out in all directions stepped out. His eyes fixed on James, and he saluted sharply. “Lieutenant Arthur Holloway reporting, Major General, sir!”
