August 3 / Riecoltsan 10

  Brantly pinched the ridge of his nose as he reread the spy’s message. Hopefully, there would be more information soon. For now, all he knew was, ‘Arnulf reported dead. Son brought back to Brantle. Alboim. 17, not trained.’ It lay next to another that informed him that Galenos, a minor baron in north Cresfael, was ending negotiations for Elestrin based on rumors that he was no longer heir presumptive to County Brantle. That had arrived by pygmy hippogriff just yesterday. Thank the Dark, one of his cutouts had upgraded the urgency and paid for the cost of a hippogriff.

  The small magical constructs were damned expensive to rent, but a hell of a lot faster than even a packet ship upriver. He would have to reward the man. Brantly jotted down a note, then returned to the problems at hand.

  “And I had been so close!” he muttered into the silence of his office. Gastap’s cold, unadorned granite walls were worthy of a castle on the bleeding edge of Barugala, which it had been until Grandfather pushed the dwarfs back a good seventy miles north. “Forty years of work down the drain, like last night’s beer.” he sighed. I should have taken Elestrin out when I had the chance, damnit. But who would have known Elaboim would allow a mere woman to ascend after her son’s untimely and tragic death? It had been fun to make it look like Elvish work.

  He stood, and walked briskly to the door. He needed to move, to get his blood flowing, in order to think properly. ‘Even in chaos,’ Grandfather always said, ‘even when the world is falling around you, there is opportunity. Gastaps see that opportunity and take it.’

  He hardly noticed the men and slaves hustling out of his way as he paced the hallways lost in thought. Eventually, his feet took him to a door, and he nodded in understanding. Of course, he needed his favorite sounding board. He pushed the door open without bothering to knock.

  “Honestly, brother. It’s barely noon, and I only got here yesterday.” Diemon pushed his bedwarmer, a nude human slave girl around twenty, away. “Leave us.” he ordered. The redhead grabbed a thin robe off the floor and scurried out the door as she wrapped it around her.

  “We have a problem. Elspith has found an heir.” Quickly Brantly gave his brother the details of what he knew.” A knock at the door revealed a slave he’d magically bound so tightly he could not pee without permission came with a pot of hot tea and two glasses. “Leave us, return to your normal duties.” the walking hulk of a man shambled away.

  Diemon closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose and then out through the mouth. He counted silently to ten, and quietly muttered, “Shit.” He stood naked and sauntered to the table, pouring himself some tea. A long pause filled the air. “What are we going to do now? How are you going to get Elestrin married off now? Her mother’s dwarven blood came through in that one.”

  “Ione,” Brantly referred to his late wife, “had one rumored great-grandfather of dwarfish stock, and brought a very large dowry.” Elestrin isn’t that short.

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  “Elestrin is almost sixteen, and less than five feet tall.” Brantly argued. “That’s more than short enough to set uncharitable tongues a-wagging. Still, she is stunning enough to have landed a count’s or even a duke’s son, were it not for those rumors. But she is not your only hope for the family.”

  “You think I’ll make you my appointed heir, dear brother?”

  Diemon stood next to his brother. Looking up, he glared. “That was the plan all along. Or are you planning to off me like all our cousins?” Diemon had a point. After all, that was why he’d been named after Brantle, and why so many relatives met untimely ends. There was also Marilla, his younger daughter. “True enough.”

  Brantly did not want to depend on his brother’s children to propel House Gastap into the next generation. Diemon was loyal and a competent lieutenant, but he lacked the necessary ruthlessness to propel the House to greatness. Temperamentally, he was more like their departed and unlamented father, while Brantly had mainly been raised by Grandfather.

  Should I seek a new wife as well? He wondered. Probably not the best question the man who is my heir at the moment. Always expect a knife in the back from your closest companions. Everyone betrayed Grandfather, so I should expect it as well.

  “If only Ione were still alive.” he said instead. “She was always better than me at domestic affairs. It would take her, or an order from the king to net Elestrin more than a manor knight at this point.”

  “If you don’t find someone soon, she’ll be destined to be an old maid. But do not worry overmuch. She will always have a welcome place at my manor.”

  Brantly stared up at the ceiling, considering his options. “We are going to spend the solstice in Rolnburg.” he finally decided. “She is bound to parade that boy around all the Solstice balls, all winter season long, and build up support for him. I must be there to stop it.” With any luck, once she is outside of those impossibly powerful wards of Brantle Castle, I can cut the head off the snake. Without his protector, an untrained boy will be easy prey.

  “What? Are you crazy? We have dwarven raids to deal with, the harvest, and are you forgetting that my wife is with child?” Diemon objected. He will go; his blood-oaths demand it.

  “We won’t leave right away, of course.” Brantly responded with icy calm. “We can plan on leaving soon after Equinox Day. That will give you plenty of time to fetch Yora, and plenty of time to settle in before the winter sets in. I will stay until the end of the campaigning season while you prepare the manor house.” In the center of the country, near the seat of power, I can manipulate King and Court more easily. If that old fool of a king rejects this Alboim, I am as good as confirmed as the next Count Brantle.

  “Rumors say the princess is collecting young girls to commiserate with.” he went on. “She does not like her marriage prospects. Try to get Elestrin in her company. It will raise her marriage prospects slightly. We may need that influence when we confront that bitch’s allies.”

  The more arrows I have in my quiver, the better. Perhaps I should aim my best arrow at the son of Arnulf. If I do not have to tangle with Queen Tasia, Elspith’s strongest ally, even better for me.

  Diemon nodded. “I see your plan now.” He drank some tea and scratched an itch on his backside. “I guess I will leave tomorrow to break the news to Yora. I’ll be back in a week.”

  “Yes, do that. I will go inform my daughter, then I have work to do.” Brantly nodded. Somehow, his brother always brought out the best in him. No one other than Ione had been able to do that. He always felt better with a plan to act on. Whistling a cheery, tuneless snatch of song, the Baron of Gastap left his brother's apartments to find his daughters.