Page 193 of Shadow Queen
Mikael’s words came as they usually did, wanting to make sure she was well. She had a small painted portrait that she planned to send with her next letter. Her smile widened as she thought of him receiving it. But as she read his letter, her thoughts of the portrait fell away.
Mikael wrote that Aleon had sent him a warning, advising him to close his ports. A fever was rumored to be sweeping through Nestrana, along the port cities, and down to Pryam—the kingdoms across the Aged Sea from Kharav.
Phillip hadn’t responded to the matter of her sending Aleon forces to Kharav. She assumed he wasn’t happy about it, but he hadn’t called to withdraw them. Now, with his helpful warning of potential danger, she hoped she was seeing the beginnings of cooperation, even if reluctant.
With Phillip’s letter to Mikael, there would have been one sent to Mercia as well. She caught a nearby servant. “Have the council meet me in the judisaept.”
She made her way through the halls to the council chamber. Surely Aleon’s amicable actions toward Kharav would help with the council’s own feelings toward Mikael, or so she hoped.
For once, she was the first to arrive, and she waited as her councilmen each reached the judisaept. They filed in stiffly. Soren came with Alexander.
“Any news from Aleon?” she asked when they had all gathered.
“Not recently,” James said.
She held up the letter from Mikael. “Phillip sent a warning for Kharav to close its ports. A fever spreads from Nestrana to Pryam. We should do the same.”
Henricus scoffed. “James and I have just come from Damask. The ports are fine.”
“Perhaps for now,” Alexander said. “But if the fever travels from Nestrana, it will likely reach Tarsus, which means it could be in our harbors now.”
“Unless there is no fever,” Alastair said. “We’ve heard no word of this from anyone else.”
“Then why would Phillip send a message to Kharav?” Norah asked, her irritation growing. “There’s absolutely no benefit to Aleon for Kharav closing its ports, and no hardship to Kharav for doing so. It has only two, and other means to export trade.”
“Why wouldn’t Phillip send word to Mercia, then?” James asked.
That didn’t make sense to Norah either, but there could be a number of reasons. “Still, we should be cautious, and close our ports as well.”
“That’s no small feat,” Edward said. “We’d be closing trade to thousands—tens of thousands—on the basis of nothing. We don’t even know how serious this fever is, if it evenisat all.”
Norah couldn’t argue with that. She didn’t know the consequences of the fever, although she couldn’t imagine Aleon advising Kharav to close its ports if it wasn’t serious. And while she didn’t trust that her council would put the well-being of the people over profit or political gain, she also couldn’t overrule them on everything.
“We’ll leave them open, then,” she said, relenting. “But have guards ready to close them down at the first sign of sickness.”
The council grudgingly agreed.
Morning came, and the port situation still needled in Norah’s mind. She’d write to Phillip and ask him what was happening. Serene helped her dress, and she made her way to the dining room for breakfast. Caspian picked up alongside her as she walked, like he usually did in the morning, briefing her of news and activities.
As she passed through the great hall, she saw Catherine and Edward in a seemingly heated conversation.
“What’s going on?” she asked as she approached.
“Henricus has fallen ill,” Catherine said.
Norah darted her eyes between her grandmother and Edward. “Does he have the fever?”
Edward held up his hands. “We can’t jump to conclusions.”
“He was just in Damask at the ports,” Norah said, her pulse quickening.
“So was James,” he argued, “who’s perfectly well. This could be anything.”
Norah shook her head. “But it’s not just anything. I knew it.” She turned to Caspian. “Send word—close the ports.”
“We must assemble the council first,” Edward stressed.
“The council has already agreed—the first sign of sickness.”
