"You were telling me whom I was to name as your champion," Ladthia answered quietly.
"Ah yes. Rolan-Keshi is my choice. Young man. Untested. But I feel he will be able to handle the task. You know the man?" "By name only. I rarely get out anymore." Her voice was like acid, so bitter was she. It was Talith who had confined her within the palace.
"Yes-well, he's a very fine general-" "I thought you were leading your army of deliverance." "I was, but Joss talked me out of it." "He did, did he? And how did he convince the enraged father to yield command of the largest rescue force in all of history to a pup?" She mocked him. Not light, friendly mocking. Latithia wanted to wound Talith if she could.
"He's heard some rumors that certain men of my court are plotting against me. He says it wouldn't be wise for me to leave the capital." "You're sure it was men that Joss said were plotting against you?" she asked snidely.
"There it is again, your jealously-" "My jealously!" she snapped. "Rather your blindness!" "If you please!" he fumed. Then he added more quietly, "We are in public." She sealed her lips in a tight, humorless smile and smiled and nodded at subjects all the way to the uppermost platform. There Kherda awaited them, sweat dripping off his nose, the result of his hurried ascent.
"All is now in order, my Lord," he panted. Talith said nothing, taking his seat on a portable throne placed at the very peak of the parade stand. He looked around below him, then clutched the arms of the chair tightly and swallowed. "A man could get dizzy at this height," he observed.
"But certainly not a King," his wife snipped as she took her seat beside him. They were flanked by liveried trumpeters; beyond the trumpeters on either end of this highest level, giant golden flags flapped noisily in the wind. The dust was boiling up thicker than ever now, as the lines of warriors began to form far below them. The crowd noise was growing more intense.
Kherda massaged aching temples and wished the day's events were already over. He leaned over the rail and happened to see Ligne in the level below. She stared up at him with that cold, angry gaze that so terribly frightened him. Did she think it was his fault she was there and Latithia here, rather than the other way around as he had planned it? He tried to mouth an explanation to her, but she couldn't read his lips. He could read hers, however, and he reeled away from the rail, shocked that a lady would even know such words. He looked up to see that Joss had joined them on the uppermost level and was again watching him. Kherda straightened his shoulders, fixed an official smile on his face, and walked stiffly to his appointed seat.
"When is it going to start?" Talith was shouting at him, but as Kherda opened his mouth to reply Joss interrupted him.
"While we wait, perhaps the King would like to hear some important news from the merchant of Uda. Jagd has some information that may have a great bearing on the course of the war." "Bring him to me," the King growled, annoyed by the interruption but realizing the necessity of granting Jagd an audience. Joss waved his arm, and Jagd and a young man climbed to the high platform. Both men wore ceremonial gowns of the purple and red of Uda.
"My greetings, your Majesty.'^ Jagd bowed, then he indicated the young man with him. "This is Tahli-Damen, my Lord Talith, a merchant of my house who is showing great promise. He is the only survivor of the last caravan I sent through Dragonsgate." Tahli-Damen smiled at the King, pride swelling through him.
"He lost an entire caravan?" Talith snorted. "Doesn't sound very promising to me." Tahli-Damen's smile died, and he turned a little red. Jagd put a hand on his shoulder and said, "Nevertheless, my Lord, he is a valuable servant, to me and I think to you. He is the last man to speak with the dragon. Tell the King what you told me." Jagd stepped away and nodded Tahli-Damen forward.
The young merchant felt light-headed. Perhaps the climb contributed, and the seeming instability of this platform, but Tahli-Damen would have attributed it to the awesome company in which he found himself. Here was Talith, believed by many to be the most powerful regent in the world! Next to him stood Queen Latithia, legendary for her beauty and her sharp tongue! And there was Kherda, and behind him Joss. On this platform stood the mightiest of Chaomonous-and he stood among them.
"Come, come, lad, I have a parade to review!" Talith snapped, and Tahli-Damen plunged into his story.
"The dragon is divided." "He's what?" the King shouted, and the others on the platform responded with equal shock.
"He is divided, my Lord. The heads are at enmity with one another." "That's impossible!" "And so I believed, my Lord, until I saw and heard. The two heads compete with one another for control of the beast's body. They fight with one another as if they are two beings, rather than one! There is only one thing they can agree on." "Which is?" the King asked, leaning forward to hear every word of this shocking announcement.
"That Pelman the player must be found and brought to him. -Ah, them." "Pelman!" the King exploded, and he jumped up from his throne to stride across the dais to the railing. The parade stand faced north, and the King now gazed beyond the swirling dust to the northwest and Dragonsgate. Of course he could see nothing but the vast northern plain of the Golden Kingdom, but it was a dramatic posture, and it put him very much into the public's view. The great crowd below him began to cheer at the sight of their leader, resplendent in sparkling g6ld vestments. The King raised his fist high above his head and brought it down onto the railing with a crash. "Pelman!" he bellowed again, and the crowd below him cheered more loudly still.
"I wish you wouldn't pound the rail like that, my Lord-" Kherda began fearfully, but Talith ignored him, turning to look at Tahli-Damen, who was watching him, mouth agape. The young merchant had not expected such a violent reaction.
"Then I and the dragon agree!" the King shouted, his eyes narrowing menacingly. "I want the player myself!" "The-the dragon said he would grant a total trading monopoly to the house who brings Pelman to him," Tahli-Damen explained, and immediately Jagd thrust him aside and took over the discussion.
"Don't you see what this means, my Lord?" Jagd asked quietly but urgently. "If we can persuade the dragon that our army is marching to Lamath in pursuit of Pelman, the beast may allow us free passage through Dragonsgate!" Talith was excited, but cautious. "Our army, is it? This is my army, I believe." "Yet we are allies, my Lord." Jagd smiled slyly. "For as long as you choose to be," Talith observed, and Joss nodded grimly. The King was beginning to understand, Joss thought to himself.
"You wrong me, my Lord," Jagd protested, feigning hurt. Then he smiled again and moved closer to Talith. "But if you truly suspect my sincerity, let me help to clarify the situation in your mind. A trading monopoly for the house that brings Pelman to the dragon! My Lord, you can be assured of my loyalty on this account alone! I have not the wherewithal to capture Pelman myself. I must depend on you. Together we will capture the player and reclaim your daughter, and put an end to the house of Ognadzu. You come away with the prize you seek, in addition to the conquest of the Kingdom of Lamath. I come away with my prize-a monopoly on trade! We both have so much to gain!" Talith thought for a minute and looked meaningfully at Joss, then shrugged. "It sounds so easy." "And it shall be easy. Instead of a wasteful campaign in the mountain wilderness of the Spinal Range, the golden army can simply march through Dragonsgate and descend on Lamath en masse. The fleet conquers the coast of Lamath, and their army is trapped and crushed between the main army and the troops from the coast! Instead of lasting years, the war could be ended in a matter of weeks." "And I would be the King of the entire coast," Talith murmured, his eyes glazing over with greed.
"I had heard that the purpose of this war was to regain our kidnapped daughter!" Latithia suddenly interjected, dragging Talith out of his pleasant fantasy.
"And so it is!" he growled at her. Then he smiled a conspiratorial smile at the wrinkled merchant of Uda, and added, "But since they began this war and not I, haven't I every right to take back what is mine-with interest?" "With the combined strengths of Chaomonous and Lamath at your disposal, the event
ual fall of Ngandib-Mar would be assured. Then you would be-" "King of the World!" Talith cried, his eyes flashing. "My father was never that!" He turned to Jagd and clapped him soundly on the back. "Then it is agreed. My ships will sail with the next good tide, and within the month my army marches to Dragonsgate. Let the parade begin!" The King pointed at the trumpeters, who suddenly came to life. Latithia clenched her jaws and covered her ears, but still the noise was deafening. Though there were many parts of official life she had missed during her period of disgrace, this was not one of them. How could anyone enjoy such terrible noise? Talith stood at the railing, his arms stretched wide as if to embrace all of his army and all of the throngs of people who watched below. The trumpet call was picked up by trumpeters on every level of the grandstand, who relayed it to the massed bands on the field. The crowd roared its approval of the Golden King, and he beamed back at them, waving his arms and laughing. Never had Talith been so excited. Never had he felt so powerful.
Jagd pulled his young employee to the stairway and motioned him down. Tahli-Damen attempted to ask a question, but the roar of the crowd was too loud. It wasn't until they reached the base of the scaffolding that he was able to ask, "I thought you told me Pelman was in the west rather than m Lamath-" Jagd spun on his heel and cut him off. "Silence!" The young merchant quickly shut his mouth. Jagd looked around. The crowd was far too interested in the display on the field to pay any attention to them. He leaned over and whispered in the younger man's ear. "You show promise, Tahli-Damen, but you are not an Elder yet. You will understand these things when I'm ready for you to. Until then, you will keep your questions and observations to yourself!" They moved swiftly through the crowd to their carriage and were away. Jagd wished to be in his offices by sundown, in the hope that Tohn mod Neelis would yield and make use of the pyramid tonight. What stubborn men these merchants of Ognadzu were proving to be! What a lack of simple business sense! When the opportunity arose, Jagd would use their stubbornness against them. Until that time, they were more useful as allies than as enemies.
The King tired at last of waving his arms to the throng, and he came to take his throne once more. He was chuckling as he leaned over to speak in Latithia's ear. "I've decided to send the contents of my dungeon with the army. A kind of peace offering for the dragon." "You seem to be taking all of this rather lightly," Latithia said tonelessly.
Talith sat back in his chair and gestured at the field below. "Look there! My father never formed an army this large, nor my grandfather either! Isn't that cause enough for my mood of celebration? Why can't you let yourself enjoy it along with me?" "All I can think about is that someone has my Bronwynn in chains! I keep imagining her, languishing in a dungeon somewhere-or worse!" "As do I! Why do you think I've formed this invasion force?" "To become King of the world!" she spat out bitterly. "What do you know of dungeons? Nothing, save that you intend to feed the unfortunates in yours to the two-headed beast! Well, while you've been posturing and proclaiming yourself something special, I've been sitting in my locked apartments, a captive in my own palace. I know what my child is experiencing, and it causes me to weep myself to sleep each night!" "Woman, I have told you I intend to rescue her!" "Ha!" she snorted. "Rolan-Keshi will rescue her . . . perhaps-if he can spare the time from conquering the world for you! You haven't even arrested those who kidnapped her!" "I assure you, Latithia, that when Pelman is apprehended he will be thoroughly punished . . ." "Pelman! Pelman was in your dungeon the night she was stolen, or have you forgotten that too in your blindness?" "What blindness?" Talith snarled coldly.
"The blindness that takes you daily to the bed of the one who spirited my daughter away!" Talith laughed harshly and sneered at her. "There it is, that jealousy again. I knew when Joss told me you had to be seated with me that it would come to this." The King slouched on his throne, fingering his wispy beard angrily.
Latithia's pale complexion was suffused with a crimson glow. Her proud, handsome jaw was clenched tightly, and her eyes were wide open with rage. Yet when she opened her mouth to speak, her tone was relaxed, almost lighthearted. "Perhaps you aren't blind at all. Maybe it is I who have been blind. Blaming Bronwynn's kidnapping on poor Ligne, when actually you had her abducted to give you an excuse to conquer the world!" "Guards!" Talith screamed, leaping to his feet. Instantly there was a swarm of warriors standing on the uppermost platform. The King was livid. "Escort the Lady Latithia to her chambers, immediately!" "My Lord . . ." Joss began.
"She is not to leave them, nor is she to see anyone save myself! Move!" With a guard on either side of her, the Queen turned her chin up and walked gracefully to the stairway. A hush was settling over the crowd as row after row turned from the parade to watch the drama unfolding on the high platform.
"My Lord," Joss said urgently, "it is traditional that the King's Lady announce the choice of the King's champion-" Joss realized too late his unfortunate choice of words. The King turned to him with a look of mocking triumph.
"And so she shall!" Talith gloated, and he walked to the railing and leaned over it. "Ligne!" he called. The woman had not taken her eyes off the King since the beginning of the day's events. Now she responded to the awaited cue. In moments she was standing by his side, throwing kisses to the roaring multitude. "You are to nominate Rolan-Keshi as my champion," Talith whispered to her as they both smiled and waved.
"I will not," she whispered back, and Talith jerked around to stare at her.
"Listen, woman, I have already had one argument on this platform today-" "I wouldn't nominate anyone save you, my love," she smiled at him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Rolan-Keshi indeed! You would allow that ridiculous farm lad to rob you of the glory intended solely for you? You must be the conquering hero of the Lamathian war! You are the King!" "But-" Ligne stopped him with a hand on his mouth and whispered, "Make a hero of Rolan-Keshi and you make of him a rival. Conquer Lamath yourself-and no man on earth will be able to stand next to you!" Ligne pointed to the trumpeters, and they sounded the horns immediately, without questioning her authority. The King was lost once more in his dreams of glory, and his pride conquered his judgment. As Ligne announced that the King would lead his own army of deliverance, the marching warriors joined their cheers to those of the crowd.
Kherda cheered as loudly as a twelve-year-old caught up in the highest frenzy of hero worship. But his accolades were not for the King. Rather, he cheered the slim brunette who stood at the monarch's side. Once again, Ligne had turned disaster into victory with a whisper and a quiet touch.
With the pandemonium at the parade grounds, few people noticed the small chartered boat slipping out of the port and turning downriver to the sea. On the deck a large man stood leaning on the mainmast. Admon Faye was bound for Lamath.
The Lamathian farmer wiped his forehead and replaced his hat without breaking stride. Once he got this old ox started plowing he didn't like to stop it unless it was absolutely necessary. As he followed the plow he sighted on an oak on the far side of his property, doing his best to cut a furrow that would be straight. But his mind wasn't really on his plowing. It had to be done, if he were to make his living, but that didn't mean he had to think about it. He thought instead of the queer new religious ideas he'd been hearing bandied about in the village, and wondered where people got the time to cook up such weird notions.
A shadow nicked across him as something passed between him and the sun, and he casually glanced up to see what it was. Then he shook his head to clear it, his forehead creased with concern. He needed to get out of the sun. What would the other men say if he told them he'd actually seen the dragon fly overhead? Such visions were for priests and for giddy young wives. He decided he should concentrate harder on his plowing. Of course, he would keep his mouth shut about this apparition. He had his reputation to protect.
"There was another one," Vicia said sourly, longing to wrest control away from his heedless twin.
"Too scrawny," Heinox said, dismissing him. "Couldn't make a light snac
k off that, much less a decent meal." "You could have had the cow!" Vida complained. "I would have settled for the fanner." Heinox snorted, "You know I don't like beef." "Then I'll eat the cow. I'm hungry!" "We'll find something soon. Keep watching." Heinox altered the dragon's course slightly with a lazy flip of its left wing, and Vicia settled back into foul-tempered impotence. He hated being dragged about like this.
"Now I know what a tail feels like," the surly dragon head commented.
"You said it, not I," Heinox told him rudely, carefully studying the valley floor. It was crisscrossed with the etchings of thousands of tiny plows, but nowhere did he see any concentration of humans worthy of his interest. There were hundreds of villages scattered across the northern river valleys of Lamath, but most were small, and all seemed to be hidden in the trees. Those villages he had spotted seemed deserted. "These Lamathians are being most uncooperative," he said at length.
"I told you we should have gone south. The villages are bigger, and the people have a tangy flavor!" "I don't like all that spice in my belly." "It happens to be my belly too, and I like the flavor of Chaons!" yelled Vicia.
The Prophet Of Lamath Page 17