The Bell Tolls for Me

90: Taming the Snake

Isabella sat quietly with her cousin, Bernadetta, as various others filtered into the room in which she was being kept captive. All of them looked at Bernadetta with hostile expressions of various degrees. Valerio looked like he wanted to put an end to her right away while Arthur looked at her with contempt and grudging respect. Felix and his twin daughters all regarded Bernadetta with considerable caution.“Prince Sylvain isn’t joining you?” Bernadetta asked.

“What’s it to you?” Valerio answered at once.

Bernadetta shrugged. “I simply assumed that such a pivotal part of the plan would be personally involved. He is to be king, no? Yet… it matters not.”

“I want to say straight off that I’m opposed to involving you in anything we do.” Felix stared at Bernadetta. “You cannot tame a snake.”

“Perhaps because reptiles lack the intelligence.” Bernadetta tilted her head. “Considering that I’m being prevailed upon for just that, I think we can safely assume that’s not the case. I am smart enough to be tamed, archduke.”hrough which almost everything goes through. The king commands, and the Archwizard performs. He’s the most loyal of the king’s servants, and Edgar has kept him around this long. He grounds him, reducing instability and irrationality. We need to sever the trust he has in that man.”

Isabella smiled. “Do you understand what it means if I’m revealed to be alive, in the eyes of King Edgar?”

***

King Edgar’s eyes scanned the headline of the pamphlet that had been printed and spread throughout the whole of his kingdom. It recorded a public appearance that Isabella had given in the north. Archduke Felix had introduced her with a title that fell just short of treason: Princess Regent. It was almost a direct refutation of his accession of king. His eyes wandered to the person standing before him.

“Did your agents verify her presence personally?” the king asked of his Archwizard.

The Archwizard nodded gravely. “Not only that… they allowed my familiar to watch from above, Your Majesty. It was Isabella, without a shadow of a doubt. The mark binding her soul to yours persists.”

King Edgar tossed aside the pamphlet and stormed toward the Archwizard, seizing the old man by the throat. “Two decades you looked into this disease. Over twenty years, I gave you unparalleled access, and you’re telling me some daughter of mine not a third my age cures it in a matter of weeks?”

The Archwizard sputtered, but didn’t resist the hand seizing his throat. It was only when his legs started failing him that the king released his grip and stepped away, clearly furious.

***

“Do you have any idea the level of risk that Isabella would be shouldering, exposing herself?” Arthur demanded. “The fact that Edgar doesn’t know where she is remains the majority of our advantage.”

“I think you’re overestimating Edgar,” Bernadetta said plainly. “Not that I blame you, but overestimation is as severe a fault as underestimation. You must consider things from his point of view. He cannot muster a grand army after how he crippled the nobility—he can gather only a core of loyal men. Do you expect him to head here, in the heart of the archduke’s power, with a small retinue of men? Those would be the ideal circumstances by which we might catch him alive.”

Isabella came to stand by Bernadetta’s side. “Not to mention the fact that Edgar has no idea just what sort of ability that I’ve manifested. Would he risk open confrontation when he might be stumbling right into a trap, bestowed by my ability? In his eyes… he very well could be fighting someone with an identical ability to his own. That will rattle him further.”

The room went quiet. Arthur walked to the sole window in Bernadetta’s room and looked out.

“Even if this development does genuinely enrage the king as much as you suspect it will, that’s a far cry from getting him to discard the Archwizard entirely,” Arthur said, then looked back. “The king, for all his faults, is wise enough to distinguish incompetence from malevolence. He’s cautious of permanence.”

Bernadetta crossed her arms. “The Archwizard is an egomaniac who claims credit for inventions that aren’t his own. Much of his ‘achievements’ were things that my former patrons bestowed upon me. If we propagate spells that the Archwizard is supposed to have invented and monopolized… he’ll be revealed as fraudulent. Even if the Archwizard’s personal loyalty isn’t suspect, if he’s being manipulated from behind the scenes, do you think the ever-paranoid king will preserve his life?”

“The king is a spellcaster himself,” Arthur said, following her train of thought. “He can understand firsthand anything that we reveal. In my last life, the Archwizard taught me a great many of the spells that he’s learned—some of them haven’t even been created yet. We could make him look like a rote copier in the eyes of the king,” he said with rising vigor.

Bernadetta pointed at him. “As far as I’ve seen, no one near the king is capable of replacing the Archwizard. Ideally he’ll be killed, but even a simple diminishing of his authority and trust would be a tremendous blow to Edgar’s cabinet. The only ones remaining at his side would be his veteran holy paladins. On that front…” she raised her brows at Arthur. “You know the most about his guards.”

“Those holy paladins are the only ones that Edgar trusts without restriction. These are men that’ve served him twenty years faithfully, and whose loyalty he’s tested with the most heinous machinations the mind can conjure,” Arthur said hatefully.

“Yet what might make him abandon them?” Isabella asked.

Arthur shook his head. “In my mind? Nothing, save a better alternative—and given the caliber of these men, it doesn’t exist.”

Bernadetta looked at him. “I’d like to ask some questions about these men, specifically. But for now… that’s as solid an opening as we could concoct. Weaving a net to strangle Edgar is a grandiose task, but his arrogance, coupled with the considerable groundwork laid, provides the best opportunity we’re likely to get.”

Isabella looked between her advisors, gauging their reaction. It seemed a humble start, yet it was bound to escalate into a genuine confrontation between her side and Edgar’s.

“We’ll confer,” Isabella said simply.

***

Valerio sat at Isabella’s bedside. Night had fallen. They were sharing a chamber, now. Once the idea of that made Isabella uncomfortable, but now it was anything but.

“You see her gambit, don’t you?” Valerio asked, putting his hand on her arm.

Isabella laid on the bed, staring up at its ceiling. “I see the obvious one.” She looked over. “She wants to attract the attention of those Eagaliteh members—the sages—that patronized her once before. She believes that attracting their attention might be her way to get out of here. They’d definitely take notice if we started to spread magics of their creation to the wider public.”

Valerio fell on the bed hard enough to make Isabella bounce once. He rested his head just beside hers. “Yet you followed her plan. You revealed yourself to the public.”

“I did,” Isabella confirmed, then looked over at him. “Because I have an information advantage over Bernadetta, too. She doesn’t know about Balat.”

Valerio’s silverish white eyes narrowed. “Isabella…”

“I’ve always wondered what might happen if you sell your soul to two devils,” she said. “Would they have a fight over it? Indeed… what if both devils kill each other trying to claim my soul? Would I simply be free?” She looked over, a smile on her face. “It makes you think.”