Free Traitor's Moon by Lynn Flewelling

she sent Klia rather than Korathan. He’s an honorable man, but loyal to his sister.”
    â€œPhoria’s been in the middle of things from the start,” mused Seregil. “How could she not understand what she’s up against?”
    â€œAt first the necromancers didn’t seem much of a threat. Their numbers have grown, along with their power.”
    â€œJust imagine if they had the Helm,” Alec said.
    A chill seemed to pass over the room as the three men recalled the glimpse they’d had of the power embodied by the Helm of Seriamaius.
    â€œNysander didn’t die in vain,” Thero said softly. “But even with outthe Helm, the necromancers are strong and without mercy. Phoria and her supporters simply haven’t seen enough of them to believe yet. I fear it may take a tragedy to sway her.”
    â€œStubbornness can be a dangerous trait in a general.”
    Thero sighed. “Or a queen.”

5
V IRÉSSE
    S o, they are coming, and not by way of your city, Khirnari,” said Raghar Ashnazai, turning his wine cup idly on the polished surface of the balcony table.
    The gaunt Plenimaran’s nails were smooth and clean, Ulan í Sathil noted, watching his guest from his place by the balustrade; this was a Tírfaie whose tools were words. Three centuries of trade with such men had taught Ulan to be wary.
    â€œYes, Lord Torsin left to meet them yesterday,” he replied, turning his attention to the harbor spread out below the balcony. Silently he counted the foreign vessels moored there—more than two dozen today in spite of the war. How empty the harbor would be without them.
    â€œIf the Bôkthersa and their allies have their way, your great marketplace will not be so full of northern traders,” the Plenimaran envoy went on, as if reading his thoughts.
    He wasn’t, of course; Ulan would have sensed any magic and countered it with his own. No, this man’s power lay in astuteness and patience, not magic.
    â€œIt’s true, Lord Raghar,” he replied. His old knees ached badly today, but standing allowed him to look down at the Plenimaran, a position worth the discomfort. “It would be a great blow to my clan and our allies ifthe present routes of trade were changed. Just as it might be a serious blow to your country if Aurënen joined forces with the Skalans.”
    â€œThen our concerns are similar, if not our interests.”
    Ulan acknowledged the truth of this, glad that he had not underestimated whom he was dealing with; as khirnari of Virésse, he’d dealt with five Tírfaie generations from the Three Lands and beyond. The Ashnazai were one of the oldest and most influential families in Plenimar.
    â€œAnd yet I am curious,” he countered, keeping his voice neutral. “There are rumors suggesting that Plenimar needs no assistance from anyone in their war against the Skalans—something to do with necromancy, I believe?”
    â€œYou surprise me, Khirnari. The practice of necromancy was outlawed centuries ago.”
    Ulan shrugged graciously. “Here in Virésse we take a more pragmatic view of such things. Magic is magic, no? I’m sure your cousin, Vargûl Ashnazai, would say the same. Or would have, had he not already given his life in the service of your Overlord’s halfbrother, the late Duke Mardus.”
    This time Raghar’s surprise was genuine. “You are well informed, Khirnari.”
    â€œI think you will find most of the eastern clans are.” Ulan smiled, his silver-grey eyes narrowing like an eagle’s. “Your country has very long arms; we know better than to underestimate such a neighbor.”
    â€œAnd the Skalans?”
    â€œAs allies, they would pose a different sort of threat.”
    â€œFar beyond a threat to Virésse’s port monopoly, I think. Bôkthersa clan’s blood ties to the Skalan throne, for instance?”
    Ah, yes, very astute