Book 3 - A Path to Coldness of Heart

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Authors: Glen Cook
Tags: Fiction, Science-Fiction, Fantasy
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all support outside Vorgreberg soon. Each town, each village, each lord, and each guild that deserts reduces her income further.”
“So the enterprise is doomed from both directions. And still she won’t let me in.”
“She remains adamant, My Lord. She will not trust you.”
Greyfells remained quiet. His frame went rigid momentarily. Recovering, he asked, “Why, Josiah?” His voice had gone plaintive.
“She has a touch of the illness that ruled Ragnarson, the Krief, and Fiana. She fears what you will do to Kavelin if you get control.”
Greyfells tittered, startling Gales. His normal laugh was an all-out, full-bodied roar. Now the Duke ended up wracked by deep, sobbing coughs. Gales feared for the man’s life, briefly.
“Sorry you had to see that, Josiah. No. Never mind. I’ll be all right. I’ve survived all this before. Go ahead. Poll the men. Tell them I’ll let them go if that’s what they want. Might as well let her not pay them as not pay them myself.” He contrived a small, controlled laugh. “Take her an honest answer.”
    ...
    “About eighty men are willing to come over, Highness,” Gales reported. “That’s all?”
“Some wouldn’t give a straight answer. They thought the Duke was testing them. Others said that since they wouldn’t get paid either place they’d as soon stay put and save the walk. Most everyone said they intend to head home after the weather turns and the rivers go down.”
    “And you told Dane what?”
“I answered the questions he asked. I volunteered nothing.” “What will he do?”
“He talked about doing the same as his soldiers. About cutting his losses and heading home.”
    “But?”
“He will, likely, make one more try, doing what you expected. He’ll come in disguise with soldiers who want to switch allegiance. They’ll actually be men willing to stick with him.”
    “I see. Will he expect me to expect him?”
“I couldn’t say. My mind can’t encompass so much complexity.”
Later, Inger asked, “Did you see Babeltausque out there?”
“No. Why?”
“He’s been keeping his head down. That’s curious. He could be useful here. He might be able to find my missing treasury.”
“He’s the Duke’s man.”
“You think he wants to be? I don’t. He’s been with the family through several Dukes, each one worse than the last. I can see him being loyal to the family but having an abiding distaste for its heads.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
    ...
    Kristen’s flight from Kavelin took seven weeks. The Royal party crept from one Aral Dantice acquaintance to another, often enduring cold nights in the forest between times of warmth and decent food. Dantice was determined to proceed with caution, concealing the identities of his companions.
    Kristen considered his precautions a waste. The party was too big and too burdened with women and children to be anything but what it was. But she was seeing it from the inside.
    Dantice told her, “Only folks I trust with my life see you. I tell them nothing because they might be questioned someday.”
“Where are we headed?”
“A safe place. If I don’t talk about it no one will hear about it.”
“Aral, I appreciate everything. You’ve gone way out of your way. You’ve practically given up your regular life. I don’t understand why.”
Dantice avoided a straight answer. “The travel will be over soon. So will the cold and the hunger. You’ll be safe. No one will know where you are. You’ll be ready when Kavelin is ready.”
“What about my father-in-law? What about the true king?”
“He still lives. We know that. We also know they’ve stashed him where he won’t be able to escape.”
Kristen noted his “we” but did not question it. Aral Dantice was much too useful to be challenged.
He said, “This shouldn’t last long. Kavelin should be eager to proclaim Bragi by next fall. By then even the Marena Dimura and Nordmen should be sick of the chaos.”
“All right. We’re in your hands. Be

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