“She is slender and lovely,” said Abrogastes. “Her hair is as glossy and black as the wing of the night gull of Safa Major.”
“There is now some gray in it,” said Ingeld.
“From last night, and the forest, and the dogs,” said Abrogastes.
“She would bring less in the markets now,” said Ingeld.
“I see it as a charming touch,” said Abrogastes. “How could she be more beautiful?”
“Mercy, Masters!” begged Huta.
“Which one?” asked Abrogastes.
She placed her small hands on one of the goblets, looking desperately at Abrogastes, and then Ingeld, and then back to Abrogastes. Then she moved her hands to the other goblet, and, in turn, tried to read the faces of the two men.
“Please,” said the Princess Viviana, suddenly, “show her mercy. She is but a slave.”
Huta regarded Viviana, startled.
“Spare her,” said Viviana.
“Be silent,” said Ingeld.
“I beg it,” said Viviana.
“Be silent,” said Ingeld. “Only a slave would plead for a slave.”
“Please,” said Viviana.
“Be silent,” said Ingeld.
“Yes, my husband and lord,” said Viviana.
“Choose,” said Abrogastes.
“Pick a goblet, and drink,” said Ingeld.
“Now,” said Abrogastes.
Huta picked one of the goblets.
“Drink,” said Abrogastes.
“Drink,” said Ingeld.
“Drain it,” said Abrogastes.
Huta closed her eyes, lifted the goblet, put it to her lips, and then, head back, eyes closed, drained the goblet. She remained so for a few moments, and then opened her eyes, and looked to the high seat.
She smiled, tentatively, wonderingly, questioningly.
“She is fortunate,” said Ingeld, uneasily.
“It is a red kana,” said Abrogastes. “It derives from the vineyards of Larial IV. We received it in trade from Burons.”
“Our allies,” said Ingeld.
“It is much too good to be wasted on Otungs and slaves,” said Abrogastes, “but the bottle was opened.”
Huta put the goblet down before her.
She was trembling. The chains, locked on her small, fair limbs, made small, soft noises.
“It seems,” said Ingeld, “one chose well, and one not. It is interesting is it not, that Urta chose the poison and the slave the harmless beverage.”
“It does seem interesting,” said Abrogastes.
“To be sure,” said Ingeld, “it is not altogether improbable. Each had one chance in two. Thus, there was one chance in four that this particular outcome would obtain.”
“Not quite,” said Abrogastes. “Both of the goblets placed before Urta contained poison. Neither of those placed before the slave contained poison.”
“Master?” said Huta, looking up to the high seat.
“No,” said Ingeld. “She is guilty. Let justice be done. Kill her, immediately.”
“You wish her dead?” said Abrogastes.
“Certainly,” said Ingeld.
“Dear Ingeld!” wept Huta, looking up, lifting her chained wrists.
“Why are you so earnest in this matter?” asked Abrogastes.
“To be earnest in the pursuit of justice becomes a prince,” said Ingeld.
“Quite true,” said Abrogastes, “particularly when one defines justice as one pleases.”
“Father?” asked Ingeld.
“But it is I, the king, who defines justice as he pleases.”
“How is that?” asked Ingeld.
“I have the power,” said Abrogastes.
“Be it as you say, dear father,” said Ingeld.
“It will be as I say,” said Abrogastes. “I am king.”
Abrogastes then regarded Huta, who, kneeling in her chains, bent over at the waist, put her head to the floor. “Thank you, Master,” she said.
“Surely, fair slave,” said Abrogastes, “you do not think I would let you off so easily as all this, that I would allow you to slip away gently, painlessly, drifting into the mercy of a quiescent oblivion?”
“Master?” asked Huta, looking up, fearfully.
“That would be far too easy,” said Abrogastes. “How dubious and unsatisfactory a vengeance that would be. Not only did you wish to kill me, and would have done so if your plot had not been betrayed, but you gloated over the success you thought you had achieved, and endeavored to torment me most cruelly. As I listened to you, pretending to suffer the effects of poison, I was considering what might constitute a meet punishment for your crimes.”
“Please no, Master!” cried Huta.
“I see I am now once more “Master,”” said Abrogastes.
“Yes, Master!” said Huta.
“Kill her,” said Ingeld.
“No!” begged Viviana.
“So,” said Abrogastes, “I decided that I would keep you as my slave, and I encourage you to conjecture what will be the nature of your slavery.”
“Sell me, give me away, anything,” begged Huta, “but do not keep me, not after last night, as your slave!”
“It will be so,” said Abrogastes.
“What is wrong with her?” asked Abrogastes, regarding the small, crumpled, chained figure on the rush-strewn, dirt floor before the dais.
“I think,” said Ingeld, “she has fainted.”
Chapter Fifty-Nine
“Excellent,” said Ingeld.
“The infant is freshly born, sturdy, male, and healthy,” said Farrix, he of the Teragars, the Long-River Borkons. The Borkons were one of the eleven traditional tribes of the Alemanni.
“It has been examined by physicians, ones trustworthy?” asked Ingeld.
“Yes,” said Farrix.
“I trust that its origins are obscure,” said Ingeld.
“It is a foundling, from Inez IV,” said Farrix. “It cannot be identified or traced.”
“Of what blood is it?” asked Ingeld.
“From Inez IV, presumably Telnarian,” said Farrix. “Does it matter?”
“Not really,” said Ingeld. “It can be done away with when we wish.”
“Beware,” said Farrix. “Should it die there will be scions of a dozen factions and families who will claim the throne. Any of these will have a stronger claim to the throne than a Drisriak regent.”
“Factions and families can be set at one another’s throats,” said Ingeld.
“The senate can nominate a pretender,” said Farrix.
“Let them nominate whom they wish,” said Ingeld. “Who will take seriously the word of a purchasable gaggle of sycophants?”
“Still,” cautioned Farrix.
“Do not concern yourself,” said Ingeld. “In five to ten years our power will be so consolidated, by force, habit, and custom, that we can deal easily with dissension.”
“What of law?” said Farrix.
“When has law not yielded to the spear?” said Ingeld.
“Prince Ingeld plans well,” said Farrix.
“Amongst the Teragars you will advance,” said Ingeld, “and the Teragars amongst the Borkons, and the Borkons amongst the Alemanni.”
“It is time Viviana bore her child,” said Farrix.
“Rumors, like seeds, have been cast widely,” said Ingeld. “Delivery is expected momentarily. Even now the princess is sequestered, for her health, safety, and privacy, in a secret hall of the prince.”
“Worlds await the announcement of the birth,” said Farrix.
“It must be soon,” said Ingeld, “or we shall have to dispose of this child and find another, one more recently born.”
“Once the announcement is made,” said Farrix,
“the empire will rejoice, and you and the exarch of Telnar will be free to act.”
“Sweeping the Otung usurper from the throne,” said Ingeld.
“Unfortunately the joyful tidings will be marred by a tragic fact,” said Farrix.
“Yes,” said Ingeld. “Viviana, to the sorrow of worlds, will have died in childbirth.”
Chapter Sixty
“Worlds reel,” said Rurik, Tenth Consul of Larial VII, he of the Larial Farnichi.
“Dismay darkens the empire,” said Julian, of the Aureliani.
“Clouds gather,” said Iaachus. “I fear the storm is nigh.”
Several had gathered in the small, private audience chamber of Ottonius, the First. It was late afternoon. No slaves were present.
“It is tragic that the Princess Viviana perished in childbirth,” said Otto.
“Aesilesius must be terribly grieved,” said Titus Gelinus.
“No,” said Rurik, “he is reported to have sung a little song, and returned to playing with his blocks.”
“Horrid,” said Titus Gelinus.
“Not at all,” said Rurik. “It is not clear he even understood what he was told. He is a retardate, an idiot child wandering aimlessly about, lost in the body of a young man.”
“The scheme of Abrogastes proceeds,” said Tuvo Ausonius, “a child having been born to Viviana, a royal princess, spouse of Prince Ingeld, the Drisriak, a child on behalf of which, it being male and of royal blood through his mother, a claim may be made to the throne.”
“Which will doubtless be made,” said Titus Gelinus.
“The throne is occupied,” said Rurik.
“By a usurper, unrelated to the royal family, unrelated even to a noble house or family,” said Julian.
“Such as yours,” said Iaachus.
“I stand for the empire,” said Julian. “I stand with our emperor, Ottonius, the First.”
“Sovereignty is fragile,” said Iaachus, “a riot, an uprising, a minor insurrection, a revolution, even a dagger in the dark or a fatal draft of poison, and the winds of power, wayward and capricious, ignorant and uncaring, blow afresh and differently, toppling regimes and ruining families.”
“Now that the child is born,” said Titus Gelinus, “the schemes of Ingeld and Sidonicus may unfold.”
“Hopefully we will have time to prepare and guard against them,” said Rurik.
“Timon Safarius Rhodius, and Boris and Andak, are well emplaced to keep us informed,” said Julian.
“I much regret that Princess Viviana is dead,” said Otto. “I remember her, haughty, vain, and petty, but beautiful.”
“I doubt that she died in childbirth,” said Iaachus.
“I do not understand,” said Otto.
“I think she was killed,” said Iaachus.
“Speak,” said Otto.
“Consider,” said Iaachus. “The marriages of Viviana and Alacida were both contrived artifacts of statecraft; love was not involved, and scarcely was consent. Both were essentially forced marriages, marriages essentially performed, despite the sacerdotal trappings of the exarch, under duress. Consider further, that for so a long a time there was no sign of pregnancy, let alone a birth. Now we are given to understand that Viviana was actually with child, and recently gave birth. I suspect that Viviana’s long time of seeming barrenness, of fruitlessness, was consequent on chemical deterrents militating against conception.”
“You do not believe that she gave birth?” said Otto.
“I do not,” said Iaachus.
“Then the child is not hers,” said Otto.
“No,” said Iaachus.
“And she was done away with?” said Otto.
“Rather of necessity,” said Iaachus.
“I do not think Abrogastes would be party to such a thing,” said Otto.
“But might not be Ingeld, a cunning, impatient, ruthless prince?” asked Iaachus.
“That is possible,” said Otto.
“I have received communications from Abrogastes, from Tenguthaxichai, only this morning,” said Iaachus, “communications not to be delivered directly from a Drisriak to an Otung.”
“But through a Telnarian?” said Julian.
“I do not choose to gainsay the will of a Drisriak king,” said Iaachus. “I do choose to deliver his message to the emperor.”
“I understand,” said Otto. “He is Drisriak, I am Otung. Drisriaks and Otungs, the Alemanni and the Vandalii, have often met in war, on the fields and in the forests, even in the corridors of space. We would seldom address one another openly, save in the matter of threats and challenges. So, wily diplomat, dear friend Iaachus, speak.”
“In this message,” said Iaachus, “it is accepted, rejoicingly, that a child is born and it is accepted, with lamentation, that the mother perished. There is no hint that Abrogastes doubts that the child is genuine or suspects that the Princess Viviana was killed.”
“Perhaps,” said Julian, “the child is genuine and the mother did perish in childbirth.”
“Perhaps,” said Iaachus. “But the content of the message is devoted to other matters. Abrogastes reports that an attempt was made on his life, in which an Otung, a man named Urta, was involved.”
“I know of him, a renegade and spy,” said Otto, fingering the hilt of his dagger.
“Abrogastes,” continued Iaachus, “takes it as incontrovertible that his son, Ingeld, was involved in the assassination attempt, but lacks proof on which to move, largely because of protestations and testimony which had been rendered by the Princess Viviana, who apparently, for some reason, sought to defend and exonerate Ingeld. Her views were taken with great seriousness, for she had been instrumental in foiling the assassination plot. Abrogastes, however, is adamant. He takes it as assured that Ingeld is in league with the exarch of Telnar. He also supposes that these conspirators, Sidonicus and Ingeld, wish him gone, Ingeld to ascend to the high seat of the Drisriaks, and Sidonicus to secure an eventual ally on the throne of Telnaria, one who will agree to his political and economic demands, as Abrogastes would not. As the plot failed, and Ingeld must suppose himself suspected, Abrogastes warns that matters are now likely to move differently and quickly. He thinks it likely that a projected coup will be imminent. Indeed, Ingeld has already departed Tenguthaxichai, and is en route to Telnar. He may be in Telnar now.”
“Ingeld will have men in Telnar, waiting,” said Rurik.
“He will have anticipated action, though doubtless not so soon,” said Tuvo Ausonius.
“How disappointing for Ingeld,” said Julian, “that he does not hold the high seat of the Drisriaks, that the full might of the Drisriaks is not at his disposal.”
“He does not need it, if Telnar rises at the word of Sidonicus,” said Rurik.
“What of the city guard,” said Tuvo Ausonius.
“It is likely to side with Sidonicus and the senate,” said Titus Gelinus.
“Consul Rurik has men,” said Tuvo Ausonius.
“Not enough,” said Rurik.
“Friend Julian,” said Tuvo Ausonius, “has partisans in the navy.”
“Not enough to brook a flood, not enough to thwart a tide,” said Julian.
“What of Ortog, son of Abrogastes, rescued from the house of Dardanis?” asked Tuvo Ausonius. “He has men in the delta of the Turning Serpent.”
“Again,” said Julian, “not enough, too few.”
“But he will be contacted?” said Tuvo Ausonius.
“Surely,” said Julian.
“We need more men,” said Rurik.
“Send out word,” said Titus Gelinus. “Contact provincial worlds. Summon comitates, spear guards, auxiliaries, and others.”
“And surrender borders?” asked Tuvo Ausonius.
“There may not be time,” said Rurik.
“I shall cont
act Tangara,” said Otto.
“It was there you were named king,” said Julian.
“You will draw troops from Tangara?” asked Rurik.
“Perhaps,” said Otto.
“The medallion and chain, symbol of the Vandalii, once worn by the great Genserix himself, honored even by Heruls, is on Tangara,” said Julian.
“I trust so,” said Otto.
“I fear there is too little time to summon troops from Tangara,” said Rurik.
“I, too, fear that,” said Otto. “But we do not know how much time we have. There may be enough time. We do not know.”
“Summon them,” said Rurik.
“You cannot, you dare not, dear Otto, dear friend,” said Julian.
“Why can he not?” asked Tuvo Ausonius.
“Heruls,” said Julian. “They would pour forth unchecked, unresisted, from their camps, in their hordes, from the Plains of Barrionuevo, from the Flats of Tung, as they will have it, looting and killing, burning crops and seizing cattle. It would be the end of Tangara, as we know it.”
“Perhaps not,” said Otto.
“There is one other thing, though it is doubtless of little importance,” said Iaachus.
“Beware of things which seem of little importance,” said Otto. “What is it?”
“It involves a subtle calculation by Abrogastes,” said Iaachus. “The conspirator, Urta, captured and chained, was made to drink a poison, the very poison intended to be used in the assassination of Abrogastes.”
“Rightfully poetic,” said Julian, “a most suitable and appropriate form of execution.”
“But one surprising, is it not?” asked Otto.
“How so?” asked Julian.
“You know much of civilitas, but, I fear, little of barbaritas, my friend,” said Otto.
“I do not understand,” said Julian.
“Would such a death not seem a most mild and merciful punishment for so great a crime, as attempting to kill a king?”
“Perhaps,” said Julian.
“In any event,” said Iaachus, “Abrogastes had the wretch, Urta, carried to his quarters where his chains were removed, and he was supposedly left to die. The calculation of Abrogastes was twofold, first, that Urta would still be alive when he reached his quarters and his chains were removed, and, second, that the bearer of such a poison, presumably a dangerous, extremely lethal poison, would have an antidote on hand, to be used if needed. It was then arranged that a servitor, one supposedly of the party of Ingeld, would see to his escape from Tenguthaxichai.”
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