“It’s you the Sisterhood wants as king,” Wollerda countered.
“I’d rather you have the job than me, and I don’t think it makes any real difference to Sarkia. It was just part of her pitch to win me over. She doesn’t read me—understand me—as well as she thinks; probably there are things she refuses to look at, possibilities she can’t admit to herself. And if you were king of Tekalos, the country would be a whole lot better off, because you’re a lot smarter than Gurtho, and you’re not greedy, and you look at people a lot differently than he does.
“Whatever may be wrong with Sarkia, she wants the southern lands strong and prosperous, so she can have peace to breed up the Sisterhood the way she wants. Which might not be all that bad. She’s marrying the kings to Sisters, to strengthen the alliance and ensure the royal successions.”
Wollerda studied Macurdy. He’s more than a fighting man and magician, he told himself, and more than shrewd. He’s deeper than I imagined. And a child of fate, by the look of it. And the Dynast just might have some good intentions after all.
“But the only way to form an alliance,” Macurdy was saying, “is to give it a reason that seems real and strong—compelling—to a bunch of kings and chiefs that don’t usually look much beyond their own borders and the next tax collection. An invasion across the Big River might be what it takes. An invasion to teach the empire never to attack southward again. And I suppose we’ll have to allow looting. That might even get the tribes to join us. If we could get Oz to send a cohort or two . . .
“We could set it up so assigned companies do the looting. One or two trains of plunder wagons from each kingdom and tribe under a central command, so they don’t get into butchering, raping, and burning. We need to avoid the kind of hatreds that Quaie cooked up.
“And because we’ll make a big point, with our own people and those north of the river, that this is all to punish the ylver for the Quaie Incursion and the Rape at Ferny Cove. Put the blame on Quaie. Then if someone in the empire beats the drum for invading south again, those against it can point to the grief the Quaie Incursion brought them.”
Wollerda shook his head, not in refusal but in the first stage of capitulation. “You’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you?”
Macurdy shook his head. “I didn’t ‘figure it out,’ exactly. That’s just how it seems to me.”
“You’ll need to get every kingdom and tribe included in the alliance,” Wollerda said. “Especially those between the Middle Mountains and the Big River, and they tend to be friendly to the March kingdoms. Enough to trade with them.”
Macurdy nodded. “Getting their support will be the Dynast’s job. She has embassies in every royal court except in Kormehr. And even if she can’t talk enough of them into an invasion, she can probably tie them into a defense alliance.”
“A defense alliance won’t get your wife back.”
“True. But it’ll be worthwhile for the kingdoms and tribes. And maybe—maybe I could be the ambassador from the Alliance to the emperor, and get her back that way. Maybe the emperor would make Kincaid let her go.”
Wollerda stared. “Macurdy, you’re . . .” He groped. “You’re a man of faith. All right. I’ll go along with further negotiations and see what you come up with. It scares me—makes my hair stand up—but it’s a powerful opportunity, and we didn’t get this far by being timid.
“Besides, remarkable things happen around you. You even grew new teeth! The Great God himself seems to be with you.”
They sent a man down for ale, the first Macurdy had ever had, just a swallow, making a face at the taste. Wollerda agreed to an alliance, Macurdy negotiating for both of them. But Wollerda would need to approve. Macurdy would sign as military co-commander, while Wollerda would sign as co-commander and chief of the Kullvordi.
They shook hands on it, then Wollerda stepped back with a grin, his first of the day. “And now, Macurdy, I’ve got a gift for you.”