Midwinter

A servant opened the door and led them to Purane's sitting room, where a merry fire burned in the grate. Drinks were waiting on a silver tray next to the settee. Lord Purane and his wife sat in matching chairs by the fire.

"Welcome!" said Purane, rising. "A toast to the newly married couple!" He smiled broadly.

Purane-Es drank the toast and put the glass down a bit too hard. He was neither accustomed nor inclined to defying his father, and he had no doubt it would be unpleasant.

After a few more formalities, Purane-Es interrupted. "Sir, there is an urgent matter I would discuss with you."

Purane regarded his son, taking his measure. "Yes, I was about to say the same thing."

Purane-Es swallowed hard and followed his father into the study, leaving the ladies to make polite conversation. Where the sitting room had been warm and inviting, the study was large, oppressive. The floor here was hard stone.

"There's been a development in the northwest," began Purane, drawing a map from a set of tall slots in the study wall. "It could not fit our plans more perfectly."

Purane-Es winced. "Our plans are the reason for my visit, sir."

Purane took a long look at his son, his eyes cool. "Speak, then."

"You know, father, that I did not choose a martial life for myself. That was Purane-La's goal, not mine."

"Go on."

"Anne is a revelation to me. She reminds me of what I have always wanted. She encourages me. I've sung for her some of my poems and ballads and she believes…"

Purane laughed out loud. "Poems? Ballads? What nonsense is this?"

"Perhaps you hadn't noticed that before Purane-La's death I was one of the most highly regarded balladeers at court. Given time I could be the best."

"Rubbish."

"It's not rubbish. It's what I want."

Purane laughed even louder. "What you want? What you want?" He sat at his desk and placed his hands carefully on the dark surface. "Son, I see that I have not communicated clearly. Your desires do not enter into my thoughts at all."

"Father!"

"Quiet, boy! Do you think I've worked all of these years building up the name Purane just so you could piss it away with your fancy new bride? If so, you're an even greater fool than I thought. I'd sooner see you dead than waste everything I've built."

"And you don't care that it means nothing to me?"

"I believe I've made myself clear on that point. We have a great opportunity here, to ensure our position at court, in the military, with the Queen Herself. When you arrive at the palace with the object of Her Majesty's desires, whatever in hell it may be, and Mauritane's traitorous head on a stake, our places will be secure. Secure, perhaps, for all time."

Purane-Es sat in a high-backed wooden chair. "And if I refuse?"

His father reached into a desk drawer and laid a sealed letter on the desk. "This comes from the Chamberlain," he said. "It's for you."

Purane-Es took the letter warily and opened it. "This is a set of orders," he said. "I've been called to Sylvan."

Purane nodded.

"Why is the Queen sending me where you want me to go? It makes no sense."

"If you'd been paying attention to current events instead of mooning over your new love, you might know why." He leaned back in his chair. "Our spies have sent word that Mab is moving south at her top speed. We believe she's massing forces at the border."

Purane-Es stared. "But it's been years since the last engagement at Midalel. Anyway, what's that to do with me? Is the Seelie Army no longer charged with protecting our borders?"

Purane shook his head. "You have no military sense, boy. Think! When the Seelie Army begins to concentrate along the border, they will quarter in Sylvan. And what will happen then?"

"The Beleriand rebels. They'll go mad."

"Exactly. Any concentration of force there will be construed as an offensive by the rebels. You're being sent to Sylvan to maintain the peace."

"But the rebels know my face. They despise me because of Mauritane. My presence will only incite them further."

Purane nodded.

"And that's exactly what you want, isn't it? You want to start a civil war! "

"The Beleriands and their Gossamer Rebellion are the only thing that stands between us and total control of the Kingdom. Mab is no threat during Midwinter. Her forces wouldn't make it to Midalel now, even if the border troops let them walk past. What better time to take care of the rebel problem?"

"And if the rebels attack first, then the Queen is not the aggressor and Her hands are clean in the eyes of the Arcadians."

"Precisely. Maybe you aren't as stupid as I thought." Purane paused while his son rolled his eyes. "And while all of this is going on, you will `discover' Mauritane at large in Sylvan, wrest his prize from him, and present it to the Queen along with the heads of every Beleriand leader you can muster."

"And you will have orchestrated everything, behind the scenes, no doubt taking full credit for all. I won't do it."

"How childish you are! You are not my only remaining son. If you care not for your reputation, think of your younger brothers."