by John F. Carr
"Until this bronze statue speaks, we'll have to assume it is His decision. I do not think that Dralm would approve our actions if we stood here wringing our hands while his High Temple fell around our heads."
Highpriest Davros shot him a look that said, "You may have won this round, but don't count on winning the next one."
For not the first time since arriving in Agrys City, Xentos missed the pastoral peace of Hostigos. However, if Mytron's letters were to be believed, Hostigos was in as much, if not more, turmoil than Agrys City as they prepared for the invasion of Hos-Harphax. If only King Demistophon had some of Kalvan's spine, Xentos might be able to offer more than token support to Hos-Hostigos. At the moment, he wasn't sure if he most wanted to aid his former friends, or do whatever was necessary to halt the advance of Styphon's House.
In truth, the answer was obvious: it was Xentos' duty to do whatever it took to protect Allfather Dralm's House Upon Earth-even if it meant the loss or death of his old friends. Xentos hoped it would not be so, but experience argued otherwise.
III
As Duke Ruffulo walked into King Theovacar's private audience chamber with one of the King's Companions on either side, he noted that it was decorated in marked contrast to the gilded throne room. Theovacar's private inner sanctum contained scrolls and finely glazed amphora with battle scenes from the Western Sea. A large mosaic covered one wall showing the Kingdom of Grefftscharr, outlined in gold, and its vassals Lyros, Brythar, Helmout, Maumue, Rhinnar and even Thagnor, which was a vassal in name only.
The Duke noted that both of the King's Companions, his sworn bodyguard, left the room after a slight nod from Theovacar, an observance signaling both trust and honor to his guest. When King Theovacar rose to touch palms, he noticed the dark circles under Theovacar's eyes and lines of worry that bracketed his mouth. Ruffulo was known in the Assembly to be an occasional ally of the king, but this was the first time he'd been invited for a private audience.
The Duke wondered what Theovacar's price would be, since the king never did anything by accident; all was by design, down to the silver oil-lamps in sconces on the stone walls made in the image of Thanor's hammer, which was Theovacar's personal emblem.
After the expected formal greetings were expressed, King Theovacar asked, "Duke Ruffulo, you are well known to be a respected leader within the Assembly of Lords. Is this not true?"
Ruffulo knew this was a question that needed no answer, just as he was certain he wouldn't have been invited to a private audience with the King were it not the truth. He nodded his head, avoiding the King's direct gaze. Theovacar's eyes were an endless pool of gray ice, like the heart of a frozen glacier. All knew tales of shamans on the Sea of Grass who practiced spells that enslaved free men. He would not be surprised to learn that the King had taken instruction from such a magician.
"I need someone to represent Our interests in the Assembly, someone who is not known to be in Our confidence."
The Duke nodded.
"The Ros-Zarthani army is a moon quarter's march away from our borders. I have heard there is strong sentiment that We should mobilize Our army to stop them."
"I have heard this," Ruffulo said cautiously, careful only to repeat common knowledge. "Prince Varrack of Thagnor claims we must punish these interlopers before they reach our Kingdom. Many others agree. Prince Fridrek of Rhinnar believes these Ros-Zarthani are but the skirmishers of a much greater army waiting to fall upon our lands.
"What do you believe?"
The Duke knew this question was as much a measure of him as it was of the Assembly of Lords. "It is my belief that we should escort the Ros-Zarthani army out of our lands with an army large enough to keep them away from temptation. The envoy of the False God Styphon, Archpriest Prysos, tells us that they have engaged this band of mercenaries to fight in the Fireseed War against Great King Kalvan, whom they call the Usurper. These false priests of Styphon have lied before, but this tale appears to be truth."
Theovacar stroked his sable-colored goatee. "This is what We believe, as well. Were this truly an invasion there would be three or four times as many soldiers. Still, We must show the Ros-Zarthani that We are prepared for any misadventures upon their part. Or next time We may be facing a real army of invasion."
Ruffulo smiled. "Since the Trader Verkan brought the fireseed formula to Greffa we have been free of the fireseed priests' demands. Maybe someday we will use this fireseed to return some of our gold to the Treasury."
"Yes, and with interest. We would also like to punish these arrogant priests of Styphon's House who act as if they were still the only source of fireseed. This Kalvan, Thanor be praised, has given us the ability to make our own fireseed and escape their usurious charges and penurious lots."
Ruffulo nodded his accord. Styphon's House had proscribed fireseed sales to the Middle Kingdoms shortly after its discovery. Over the centuries it had been made available in small lots, but only after the price had been raised so high that one pound of fireseed was as expensive as an ounce of gold dust and the supply so limited that the great guns on the City Mole were fired but once a year. Nor was it unusual to find that the fireseed was spoiled. The Fireseed Works had brought the price of fireseed way down and the City Magazines were full for the first time in Greffa's history.
"However," Theovacar continued, his voice rising, "this is not the time to involve Ourselves in the Fireseed Wars. Let the Ros-Zarthani break their spears on Kalvan's armor, and we will destroy the fleeing Ros-Zarthani should they again dare to trespass upon our lands when they leave with their tails tucked up under their hind-quarters!"
The Duke nodded. He agreed with Theovacar's assessment, but the voices in the Assembly of Lords were in opposition to any measured solution. Prince Varrack had them convinced they were honor-bound to oppose the Ros-Zarthani barbarians. He felt differently, as history had shown the Ros-Zarthani were not some loose confederation of tribes from the Sea of Grass temporarily joined together for loot and brigandage. No, the Ros-Zarthani were a disciplined, trained force with centuries of tradition and martial success behind them. True, they lacked arquebuses and bombards, but they made up for that with good morale and training. Furthermore, even with all the fireseed they could burn, the Grefftscharrer armies were still short of firearms.
"The Assembly is so like minded that no words of yours, Your Majesty, will change their views."
Theovacar grinned from ear to ear. "I have no intention of stopping those blockheads from rushing to their deaths. In fact, I want you to counsel them to do so."
"But, Your Majesty, your representatives have told the Assembly repeatedly that you oppose attacking the invaders."
"Of course, how else to get Varrack off his endparts!"
"What if Prince Varrack is successful?"
"Then he has lost soldiers to the Ros-Zarthani that might have opposed Us in the future."
Not for the first time this afternoon, Ruffulo regretted being called to attend this private audience with King Theovacar-not that he had a choice! Of one thing he was certain, he did not like the slippery way his King's mind worked and he doubted he would sleep as soundly having found out. Theovacar acted as if his honor were as loose as a slattern's shift. Nor did Ruffulo like serving as the King's tool, but Theovacar was known to punish those who thwarted his will-and their families as well.
Unfortunately, Ruffulo's past support of the King had cost him the friendship of the very allies that could free him from this trap. Once again Theovacar would use the Assembly of Lords; Ruffulo hoped-vainly he suspected-that someday things would not always be such.
"What part am I to play?"
Theovacar's smile was not a pretty thing to watch. "I am going to send five thousand soldiers to Bundt Town, which is our westernmost outpost. This will quiet the opposition and still the cries that I'm not defending Grefftscharrer territory. However, they will be under orders not to attack the Ros-Zarthani unless attacked first."
Ruffulo nodded. "There is little o
f value in that small town to tempt the Ros-Zarthani, yet it will still the cries in the Assembly that you are ignoring this 'invasion'."
"Yes, and your role will be to encourage Prince Varrack to take his army into the Sea of Grass to fight them."
"He will not bend to my will."
"Of course not, or you would not be having this audience. You will encourage him, even if it means ridiculing him on the floor of the Assembly of Lords."
He blanched, looking down. Yes, it could be done; Varrack was hot tempered and impetuous. However, if Theovacar's plan came to fruition, and Varrack suffered serious losses or public humiliation-he would earn himself a very bad enemy. Of course, if he defied Theovacar, he would earn an even greater enemy, as well as one who shared the same city.
When Ruffulo looked back up he could not help but notice the triumph in Theovacar's eyes. Now that the King was in a good mood; it was time for a gamble of his own. "I will need gold, lots of it. I need to purchase some of Varrack's friends, since I am not of their circle. They will not come cheap."
"Yes, We will see that you get your gold. We will give Our Treasurer orders to accept your drafts."
SIX
Sirna watched with amazement as Baltov Eldra used the limited Zarthani cosmetic palette, mostly rouge, some kind of cornstarch-based whitening powder and charcoal-based mascara to transform her appearance from ravishing to drop-dead gorgeous. Sirna had only sparingly used the lip rouge which tasted of some animal fat that she'd prefer remain unidentified. She could see from the polished metal plate that passed for a mirror that her low-cut gown, the obligatory Lady's garment at formal affairs on Aryan-Transpacific, displayed enough of her bosom to attract far more male attention than she felt comfortable with.
One of the attractions of her ex-husband was that he had seemed to be attracted to her for her mind instead of her more obvious assets, which thanks to a combination of stays only appeared to be about to flounce out of her bodice. That had been one of several misconceptions she'd had about Ulvarn Rarth.
Her self-confidence had taken a bad beating after the failure of her companionate marriage. She still wasn't sure whether Ulvarn had married her because all his friends were getting married, or for a guaranteed audience for his political lectures. He had certainly spent little time in her company during their decade-long marriage, many times disappearing for months as he worked on 'special projects' for Hadron Tharn. At the moment Sirna was more interested in personal growth than in attracting an outtime affair that could only end badly.
While she brushed her hair, Sirna said, "This Founders Day Celebration at the University of Hostigos is the last holiday until Baldar's Feast. It was nice of King Kalvan to invite the Foundry staff."
"And even better that Lala and Gorath Tran refused to condone 'archaic-patriarchal customs' by attending this 'barbaric spectacle'." Eldra gave a laugh that sounded like tinkling bells. "Yes, it is a nice gesture, even if we are under Royal protection."
"Kalvan is more thoughtful than most men from Fourth Level Europo-American. I wonder if Prince Ptosphes and Rylla will be there?"
Sirna didn't like the twinkle she saw in Eldra's eyes as she answered. "Ptosphes is supposed to make a token appearance, but it's common knowledge that the Queen won't be attending."
Common knowledge to whom, Sirna wondered. Who is on Eldra's payroll at the Palace? "You'd better be on your best behavior tonight. Rylla might not be at the Celebration, but her eyes and ears will be."
Eldra laughed. "'Palace Intrigues and Assignations' were my minor at the University! I cut my teeth as a student at the Court of the Borgias on Fourth Level Europo-American, Imperial Italian Subsector. A glass of wine with the Borgias on Imperial Italian was as dangerous as one at Arch-priest Anaxthenes' table. Did you know that it's Anaxthenes' chief mistress, Thessamona, who prepares his poisons? I learned that from the Balph Study Team's latest report."
Sirna shuddered; that poisonous Fourth Level family had become legendary at the University. In the Imperial Italian Subsector, Pope Alexander VI had managed to consolidate enough power to create the Borgia Dynasty which ruled most of Italy. The poisonous atmosphere of the Borgias had infected all of Europe and spread to the New World where there were scores of competing French, Spanish and Italian city-states. Some English Queen had lost her head when the Spanish Armada landed and conquered England, returning it to the Papacy as a subject state of Spain and Rome, administered by the Spanish and their Irish allies.
If Archpriest Roxthar and his Investigation kept Anaxthenes from creating another Italian Imperial, then the mad Archpriest's life could be said to have brought about some good! It was certainly true that Kalvan's efforts to improve Aryan-Transpacific were having some unexpected and unpleasant results. None of the other Kalvan Control Time-Lines had spawned a kingdom-wide war, an Inquisition and the beginnings of a religious war.
"I thought marriage was acceptable practice among Aryan-Transpacific priests. Is Styphon's House an exception?" Sirna asked.
"No, there's no doctrine in Styphon's Way that calls for celibacy. The First Speaker appears to be one of those men who likes multiple partners, who is emotionally unwilling to commit and can afford his own harem of concubines-not uncommon among the top echelons of Styphon's House."
There was a bitter note in Eldra's voice that made Sirna wonder if the professor was speaking from experience when she talked about men who were 'unwilling to commit.' "What about Anaxthenes' children?"
"None that we know of, which is unusual. There are more than twenty foundling homes in Balph and more street urchins there than in any other city in Five Kingdoms. He either keeps a harem for appearances sake, or has the issues of his couplings left out in the outskirts of Balph to die."
Sirna choked back a gasp, which would have made her look unsophisticated to Eldra, a woman she greatly admired. Sirna had studied enough Outtime Sociology to be familiar with peculiar outtime practices when it came to birth control and overpopulation techniques. However, it was one thing to hear a dry lecture, and quite another to actually live on a time-line where these peculiar customs were practiced and taken for granted!
The only other member of the Kalvan Study Team attending the Founders Day Celebration was Aranth Sain, who met them at the stable and drafted a proper escort from among the Foundry workmen. Sain was wearing a silvered back-and-breast and a blue and red eagle feather jutting from his finely engraved high-combed morion helmet. The night sky was clear of clouds exposing ribbons of twinkling stars. For the first time since she'd arrived on Kalvan's Time-Line, Sirna felt alive with the possibilities of life on a more primitive but vital world. She wondered if she would ever meet an outtimer as exciting as Kalvan, and what would happen if she did.
There was no reason for her not to become involved with a local, since she had a birth control implant. On the other hand, her emotional well-being was still fragile after the way her ex-husband had coldly abandoned her. She was not like Eldra, able to move from one lover to another without a backward glance.
Sain was several horse-lengths ahead while their bodyguards were ranging behind. Sirna's horse riding skills had improved to the point where she no longer felt in danger of being catapulted out of her saddle, but she knew in her heart she would never be comfortable while on the back of any large animal. "Eldra, how can you become intimate with a man without getting… well, involved?"
Eldra's laugh was a little too brittle to be real. "I look at men like I do horses. You have to take a new one out, ride him hard and break him in."
"What happens if you get… say… attached to a horse unexpectedly?"
"You don't ever get attached-that's the rule, Sirna. Not if you want to be free to ride the next one." The next words, "not ever again," were almost inaudible, as Eldra spurred her horse and galloped up to join Aranth Sain.
By the time Sirna caught up, the lights from the University of Hos-Hostigos were visible. This was Sirna's first visit to the University and she found a dozen students
volunteering their services in giving her a guided tour. Instead, she left with a musician, a big full-bodied man with a limp and a beautiful lyre strapped to his back. His name was Gasphros and when she asked him what his function at the University was, he replied, "I'm the university bumblebee. I watch and listen, stopping at each department to pick up information and ideas, like a bee picks up pollen. Then I share my observations with the Masters of whichever department I think will find them useful. Sometimes they ignore me, but oftentimes they take my advice-and occasionally my ideas work.
"In return they give me a goblet of Ermut's brandy, or a few pieces of silver. Sometimes I sing and play for my supper. When things are quiet here, I pack up and visit the Silver Stag or Crossed Halberds in Hostigos Town, tell a few tales and sing a few songs. It's a good living."
Sirna had heard from Aranth that Gasphros the Troubadour was also a spy-or intelligencer, as they called them on Aryan-Transpacific-for Duke Skranga, Kalvan's head of Hostigos Intelligence. He'd left Harphax City with Skranga when the Harphaxi constabulary started to ask too many questions.
"How did you get the limp?" she asked, as they viewed the University alchemy laboratory, which was filled with rows of clay cups, green glass beakers and retorts filled with colored liquids.
"I joined the Blethan Army as a lad to escape home. I got shot in the knee with a crossbow quarrel during a rebellion in the Princedom of Taurnos. The fester devils set in and I almost lost my leg. In time I recovered the use of my limb, although I still walk with a limp. What I did lose, however, was the last of my youthful idealisms about war."
He gave a deep-bodied laugh. "A few years later I left Hos-Bletha and came north to escape the army. I've sung and told tales, had every kind of adventure known to man, been to every capital city in the Six Kingdoms and a few in the Middle Kingdoms, I've wandered the Trygath and sang in the Sastragath and I hope to live long enough to make a trek to the Great Western Sea and play for the legendary Tyrants."