"There has been an incursion." Chancellor Quisala thumped her hand on the arm of her chair as she sank into it. The throne-room chairs were unpadded, to discourage long visits. Daleina's throne was cushioned with velvet.
"An accidental crossing of borders, they called it," Chancellor Isolek clarified. "One squadron of Semoian soldiers left their station at just short of midnight last night, on a night hunting expedition-"
"So they claimed," Chancellor Quisala interjected.
"So they claimed," Chancellor Isolek repeated. "During the expedition, they lost their bearings and accidentally crossed into the northeastern forests of Aratay. They were located by our border patrol three miles west of the line, near Ogdare."
"Three miles!" Chancellor Quisala cried. "Three miles is not an accident. I tell you, this was a deliberate incursion to test our border security, and they were able to penetrate three miles with a squadron before being intercepted by our patrol. They know now we are weak. We do not have enough guards to monitor the full length of border night and day, much less guard against any serious invasion."
"Queen Merecot won't invade," Daleina said. "She has given me reassurances." Prettily worded, on elegant stationery. Merecot had been shocked at the suggestion of anything that would mar their friendship. She was still fond of Daleina and treasured her memories of their childhood together. She felt a special kinship with both Daleina and, through her, the people of Aratay, and she professed her firm desire to rekindle that friendship at an unspecified future date . . . It had sounded nothing like anything Merecot would ever say. But the stationery had been quite nice. "Though I cannot promise that means anything." In fact, she was reasonably certain it didn't, knowing Merecot.
"Then you must send troops!" Chancellor Quisala said. "We are vulnerable!"
She's right. Given the False Death, though . . . She wished she could tell the chancellors the truth about why she hesitated. Closing her eyes, Daleina reached out with her senses, feeling for the spirits in the capital. They'd been drawn into the palace again. It was part of Candidate Naelin's training, Ven had explained. She was trying to desensitize herself to the presence of spirits. For the past three days, she'd drawn them into the palace. Hundreds of them in the late Queen Fara's chambers. It was a reminder of how many were lurking even in such an overcrowded area as the capital. They were the real danger, not Semo.
But maybe ignoring Semo completely was a mistake.
She could spare some guards . . . a third from each city?
The door opened, and the seneschal poked his head in. "You're needed in the Chamber of Champions, Your Majesty. Many apologies for the interruption."
She rose. "I will consider this. You will have my answer after I return from the champions. I thank you both for your wisdom and intelligence. Please, take a moment to rest. If an invasion is coming, it can wait an hour."
Chancellor Quisala didn't seem willing to accept that, though. "She is positioned to move quickly, and we are not positioned to stop her. I ask you to remember that your people live on the border, not merely in the cities. Everyone in Aratay is deserving of protection, and it is your sworn duty to provide it." Her face was flushed, and Chancellor Isolek laid a hand on her arm. She looked at his fingers as if she were considering biting them off, and he hastily removed his hand. She looked back at the queen. "I beg you: send troops, with no delay."
As if her skin were being scratched by a thousand nails, Daleina felt the spirits disperse from above her. They skittered down the side of the palace and sank into the earth. They melted into the breeze and sped around it. She tasted them in the air. Ven must have called an end to Naelin's training session-he'd be making his way to the chamber now. "I have not said no. I have said I will consider it."
"Then that must suffice," Chancellor Quisala said, and Daleina felt as if she'd been scolded by the grandmother that she couldn't remember ever having. She sank back into the throne as the seneschal led the two chancellors from the throne room. As he held the door open, a fire spirit slipped into the room and lit one of the lanterns.
She watched as it buzzed like a bee around the flame, and then she forced herself to stand. She'd need to meet her champions in the chamber. Up again. And this time, she was dreading reaching the top more than the climb itself. She would have to look her champions in the face, with the suspicion that at least one might want her dead badly enough to endanger all of Aratay.