Author's Note: I apologize that both this one and the last one were relatively short chapters. However, do I make it up for it in that I've updated three times in the last 24 hours? I have been unable to do anything else. My philosophy work is feeling horribly abandoned.

Tamora Pierce is the major deity in this universe; I am a very tiny, insignificant being striving for god-hood.

Chapter 17: Secret Conversations

April 442 H.E.

Delia of Eldorne paced in front of the Duke Roger of Conté. "I am so tired of pandering to that…that… she-male! Day and night, she's either chasing her children or chopping blocks of wood with her sword! And I have to sit there and make nice because she is the gods-cursed queen!"

"You've made it a frequent exercise to stay in Eldorne of late, Delia," Roger observed calmly.

Delia's delicate white skin took on a rose color. "I apologize, Master. I have not found a reason to remain in company with …her. She reveals nothing to the ladies-in-waiting. We are more the ladies of that foreign warlord's daughter more than we are Alanna's. The foreign barbarian is more a lady than a true-blood Tortallan."

"You must remain in Corus for the present, my dear."

"Master, have you a task for me?" Emerald eyes bright, she threw herself to her knees before his chair.

"Just become part of the woodwork. Do not draw undue attention to yourself. Since you decided to take Josiane into our confidence, keep a tight leash on her. I do not share the same trust you seem to have in the princess from the Copper Isles."

"Master, please forgive me if I was wrong to include her. I thought her a useful tool for you. Her family is renowned for its violence and insanity. I thought her a useful scapegoat."

"It was a good thought, pretty one," Roger said as he patted the girl's hair. "I will consider it. As long as the madness works in our favor." Delia turned her head to kiss Roger's palm as the door opened. In strode Alex of Tirragen. Roger casually raised his eyebrow. Alex shut the door behind him.

"Ralon has secured the Rogue."

Delia gave a delighted cry, her beautiful face looking happily at her master, whose face remained curiously indifferent.

"I'm not even sure whether I care about the bloody Rogue or a disgraced noble set on petty revenge."

Alex nodded. "Your Grace, if Ralon controls the Lower City, then when the time to strike comes, the Lord Provost and the Guardsmen will be too busy preventing riots to interfere."

"I see. And the former leader?"

"A cityman, by the name of George Cooper. Alive, but sworn to live out the rest of his days and never interfere again. Ralon threatened his pregnant wife."

"Ah, men. So easy to influence with women. Only those who remain above the influence are truly men."

Disliking the turn of the conversation, Delia pouted. "Master, when do we put this plan into action? When will you sit on your rightful throne?"

Alex rolled his eyes, while Roger responded. "Patience, my dear. Our plans for the coronation failed when our dear cousin decided to marry our darling Lioness. And that botched attempt with Stone Mountain did nothing; it was a waste of my energy, channeling Trebond's Gift and all. He's shaking in fear and can't remember a thing; luckily, there's no suspicion been thrown our way. Now we must wait for a time when no one will suspect. When it seems that peace and harmony is finally settling. I do not want the people to think that Jon is cursed when we take the throne. I want them to know that through my efforts, with no outside influence, the crown was placed on my head. For now, the fools are still enjoying the stupid Tusaine's defeat. But the older generation has already returned to mumbling about her parenting skills. The most recent uproar is over the little princess."

"What has the little bitch done now?" asked Delia cruelly.

Alex spoke up. "Kalasin is very much her parents' daughter, willful and disobedient. Her brother flat-out told several Councilors that his sister would be a knight. They think Alanna's already put the idea into Kalasin's head and they think that Thom is being trained to accept this sort of abomination."

Delia spat, her face ugly. "I don't know why they don't just overrule her."

"Because the people love her. As much as I hate to admit it, Alanna's proven herself a good queen. She actually listens to the people and she is determined to learn. The people like that she is obviously human, with her flaws, but she is also a legend, and who wouldn't be proud of someone like her as a queen?" Alex answered. "Jon, too, has proven himself worthy as a leader. I think they are a mismatched pair, but Tortall needs their leadership. I think Alanna has worn herself out trying to fulfill both duties as queen and Champion."

Scowling, Delia tossed her hair. "So what if they've done a good job? Master," she turned her adoring gaze on him, "You would have done better."

Roger sighed, ignoring the girl's compliments. "I am tired. Today's work was draining." He gave Delia a meaningful look. Immediately, she leapt to her feet.

"Copying the tales of Miachi and Zefrem exhaust you, now?" asked Alex.

Roger stopped and looked at his once-squire. "Delia," he said without looking at her. "Go into the bedroom. I will be there in a minute." Delia complied, frowning. She closed the door behind her.

"You know," Roger stated, rather than asked.

"I do. I know both."

"Both?" They were whispering, though the closest person was Delia, who was separated by a heavy door.

"You may be copying down the manuscripts Lord Thom of Trebond asks you to, but you are doing more than that. There's a reason he moves slower, why he must be pushed to perform magic."

Roger blinked, his face calm. "If Trebond would only read, he would know that he could save himself by using his Gift. The more he uses, the less is available to me. What else have you deduced, my clever squire?"

Alex gestured with his head towards the bedroom. "You have them all thinking you are going to become king. Will you not tell them that their plans will be ripped apart like this kingdom?"

The handsome duke's eyebrows shot up. "You always were such a bright learner." Alex accepted the compliment with a bow, but did not respond. "Will I tell them? No. Their schemes lay in material things. Ralon wants revenge for the beating he believes ruined his life. Josiane wants revenge for not being chosen. Delia wants power…and me. All so material, all so fleeting. But I, I am the first man to return from the grave. By destroying this nation, I will become immortal—a part of history. And history is written down and kept forever."

"A king is written in the history books."

"But there are many kings. How many destroyers of kingdoms are there? Yes, there is an element of me that does not like to share. If I can't have it, no one else should. But I prefer to think of this more glorious ideal. And you," Roger looked curiously at the young man. "You do not desire the physical. You want that intangible knowledge that you are better. That you are best. It consumes you. You will be written down in history with me, Alexander of Tirragen. When the world shakes, when the earth rips in two, when the sky appears to fall, you shall be the best and I will live forever. And now," Roger's eyes lost their maniacal look, "I have some company I'd like to enjoy." He winked at Alex and entered the bedroom.

Alex stood still for a moment, watching after his former-knight master had disappeared to his pleasure. He smiled briefly, his lips twitching in a feral smile as he turned and left the room.

I had to include a little bit of an inside look at what the bad guys are cookin' up. How was it? I can't promise the next chapter will come as quickly as these last three.