Crown of Renewal (Legend of Paksenarrion) by Elizabeth Moon Page B

mage-haters and some threatening to test children. That we cannot allow. I wanted to ask your advice about moving some of the Royal Guard west to assist the smaller domains. Marrakai assures me he has troops enough to guard his.”
    “Yes,” Arcolin said. “There are enough troops—mine included—in the northwest of Aarenis to slow down any attack that might head over the pass, and I have the Aldonfulk prince’s assurance that a large force will not be able to penetrate the gnome rockways. You—or Duke Verrakai—would have ample time to move troops back to this side of the pass from the Finthan border if Immer’s troops invade from the south.”
    “Duke Verrakai.” Mikeli tapped the pen on his desk. “I do not doubt her loyalty, but … the regalia still troubles me. I almost wish—she would take it home with her. Get it out of here.”
    “Have you told her that?”
    “No. Do you think she would?”
    “Sir king, I think she will do whatever you command. But althoughI know Immer wants that crown, I don’t think sending it away will keep him from attempting the north. From what Andressat wrote me, I believe he is inhabited—the way some Verrakaien took over others, including that groom at your coronation. And the ambitions of whoever inhabits him seem fixed on the North. Kieri has had warning from Kostandan.”
    “I wish you were not leaving the realm this season. If anything happens—if she must leave—I have no experienced military commander for our defense.”
    Arcolin bit his tongue. He knew Dorrin had tried to push the peers to do better training—and to improve their own skills in warfare. But not even the king’s uncle had done more than individual weapons practice. The peers with an interest in military matters still studied the battles Kieri had been involved in a generation before without really understanding them. Most thought they were doing well if they led a few hands of yeomen up and down a road twice a year and ended with a mock battle between—at most—eight hands of them.
    “I suppose you must go …” the king said.
    “I must, yes, but I will be near enough the pass to return quickly if you need me. Having my force there ensures at least a delaying action, with time to send word to you. Dorrin—”
    “Will be here in the meantime. Yes. There’s something else. I have a letter from the king of Kostandan, speaking of a relative of his in Aarenis.”
    Arcolin frowned. “Kostandanyans … that would be Count Vladiorhynsich? Or Sofi Ganarrion?”
    “You know them?”
    “Both have mercenary companies; both fought with us against Siniava. Vladi said once they’d both come from Kostandan.”
    “It’s Ganarrion he speaks of. A cousin, if I understand the term he uses, and his daughter married down there.”
    “Married the Duke of Fall’s son, sir king. This is widely known in the South.” Arcolin saw in memory the rich farmlands of Fallo, north and east of the once-ruined fortress of Cortes Immer that Alured now occupied. If the old rumors about Sofi Ganarrion were true, then ofcourse the Kostandanyan king would be watching events over the mountains.
    “He is concerned, the king of Kostandan, that they may fall into the hands of that Alured the Black you told me of, and he asks passage for troops under one of his sagons across Tsaia, to the pass at Valdaire, to go aid his cousin. Where is the Duke of Fall’s domain? I thought all Aarenis was Guild League cities.”
    “Not all, sir king.” Arcolin explained. “We should send for maps or go to the library—Alured’s ignored Fallo so far, but if he took it, it would protect his rear as he moved west.”
    “Then … the Kostandanyans could get to Fallo by crossing Lyonya or Prealíth and go straight over the mountains there, I’d think. This request must be a ruse, because I have not accepted his suggestion of taking Ganlin as my wife and he would bring force—”
    “No, sir king. There are no passes over the