He drew his own conclusions from that. “Quite considerable, then. Good. Good.” He slid a chair next to the bed and settled into it, addressing me as though I wasn’t sprawled under the covers, doing my utmost to ignore him.
“We’ve never had magic at our disposal before. This changes matters. We’ve enough support from the lowborn that we’ve begun to form an army, but we don’t know how to best use this force.”
I lifted my hand to stop him. “I can’t protect an army. And even if I could stand against one wizard, if an army with two wizards opposed me, I’d lose.” In Aerador, a country withmore than forty wizards, a group of nobles could easily call up more than two. “Our best option is to continue fighting through subterfuge.”
Master Grey focused his gray eyes on mine. I wondered mildly if that’s where he’d gotten his name from. Certainly, the two leaders wouldn’t give me their real names. “We can do more,” he insisted. “Wemustdo more. But to be effective, we must know your capabilities.”
I sighed. I didn’t want to tell them more, but I knew the plight of the servants, poor, uneducated, and controlled by the whims of their lords. Hadn’t I already committed to help them at any cost? Perhaps my magic could be better put to use now that my leaders knew of it. Still, they needed to understand my limitations. “My invisibility doesn’t mean invincibility. Wizards have disclosing spells. Dogs still smell me.” I knew a silencing spell to keep them quiet, but it didn’t keep them from finding or biting me.
Master Grey nodded, taking in this information. “What other magic can you work?”
I’d never counted how many spells were lodged in my brain, recipes and incantations filed away in my memory. I’d little need of most and was wary of attempting unfamiliar ones lest they go awry.
A large array of incantations required items I didn’t have, things like sprigs of wildwood sage grown only in the shade or the spikes of a hedgehog from its first quilling. Other spells I’d never tried because they were hard to perform in secret. Wizards could make a show of performing magic, but I didn’t dare reveal myself that way.
“I know many spells,” I finally said, “but not all of them.” I imagined no one knew them all, especially not when wizards like Ronan came up with new ones that they kept secret. “However, even if I were the best-trained wizard in the land, I couldn’tsuccessfully take on several others. I can’t lead you to victory that way.”
Master Grey grinned, unperturbed, like a kindly monk about to bestow blessings. “The way to victory has various roads.”
Some of them, no doubt, involving my untimely death. I propped myself up on my elbows to better regard him. “What specifically are you hoping I can accomplish?”
Madame Sutton had been pacing the length of the room during Master Grey’s speech. Without pausing, she said, “The king’s death.”
Oh, surely not.
The renegades wanted me to kill someone, and not just anyone: King Leofric. I sat up all the way, pushing the covers off. “No. It isn’t possible. And I wouldn’t do such a thing anyway.” If murderers were cursed to walk the dark places of the earth, what was in store for those who committed regicide?
Madame Sutton flicked her hand in my direction. “The people need you. This is no time to be squeamish.”
Alaric sat down on the foot of the bed, his eyes pleading. “Hear them out.”
There was no point. “King Leofric’s death won’t put an end to the servant’s fee. We’ll only trade one tyrant for another.”
King Leofric’s wife and son had died in a boating accident the previous year, but he had a two-year-old daughter, Princess Alfreda. Should the king die without any male heirs, Baron Mowbray, the former queen’s brother and a formidable baron in his own right, would act as a regent king until Alfreda was old enough to take the throne.
From all accounts, Baron Mowbray had a vicious nature which he inflicted on his servants, villagers, and even the nobles who crossed him. He’d done his best to root out the renegades in his lands, meaning he hanged all those he suspected ofinsurrection in the town square. He suspected quite a few people, most of them no doubt innocent.
Master Grey leaned closer to me. “You haven’t heard about the change in regents?” His eyes twinkled like a man who was about to play a winning hand of cards. “The king has changed that position to his sister and brother-in-law.”
Several years ago, King Leofric’s sister Beatrice had married Lord Clement, one of the grandsons of King Regnault of Marseden. Lord Clement’s mother, the eldest daughter of King Regnault, had wed an Aeradorian earl, and Lord Clement had spent his time back and forth between the two countries until he’d married Princess Beatrice. Although Lord Clement still had holdings in Marseden, he’d sworn fealty to King Leofric.
“How does that change things for us?” I asked.
Master Grey steepled his hands together. “Lord Clement and Princess Beatrice would be much better rulers for Aerador. Lord Clement has strong ties to Marseden and its practices, including its views on the length of the indentured servants’ price.”
Over the last century, the pestilence had taken many more people in Aerador than it had in Marseden. As a result, the Aeradoran kings kept raising the amount of time servants were indentured to their masters, while Marseden had left theirs at seven years.
“Lord Clement believes in giving the lowborn more rights,” Master Grey continued, “including lowering the servants’ price in both countries. He’s publicly encouraged King Leofric to shorten the servants’ price to match Marseden’s. He thinks the law inequitable.”
Could such a nobleman exist? “He cares about the servants?”
“Well,” Master Gray admitted, “in the very least, he cares about Marseden’s ability to trade their wool, cloth, and tin. Since nobles here pay less for labor, they trade their goods to other countries at a more favorable price. In return, Marseden putstariffs on any goods from our country. Lord Clement believes Aerador should lower its servant price not only to benefit the servants but also to benefit Marseden’s economy. And in return, Marseden would lower its tariffs on our goods.”
That sounded more like a nobleman. Self-interest held greater weight than the travails of the lowborn.
Master Gray edged closer in his chair, his gaze continuing to bore into me. “We need to strike before King Leofric changes his mind and makes Baron Mowbray the regent again.”
“Why would he do that?” I asked.