by Lee Carlon
His eyes snapped to Marlan’s face. The Chosen wasn’t in pain, but the knife was still buried in his chest. There was no blood.
Marlan said, “I’d like to introduce you to somebody.”
He reached into the pockets of his robes and produced a small metal sphere in each hand. With his thumbs, he pressed a button on each of the spheres. The spheres hummed as they lifted up. They hovered for an instant, then moved away slightly and popped loudly. The metal spheres were hidden from view by expanding foam that wobbled in the air and swelled into vaguely human forms.
“Two somebodies,” Marlan said as the spheres continued to expand.
Bots! Vincent looked at Marlan again and thought, He’s one too. That’s not really Lord Marlan. That’s why Turin’s heart looks so lifeless. It’s not real.
Lord Marlan plucked the knife from his chest and held it out to Pete. “I believe this is yours.”
Pete nodded sheepishly and accepted the weapon before retreating again.
The wound in Marlan’s chest looked like a slit in his robes. Through the slit was the same white foam that the two bots beside Marlan were growing out of.
As the bots feet took their weight and their features resolved, Fahlim said, “Oh goody, a family reunion.”
Obdurin turned a dark look on the immortal but said nothing.
The bot on the left was a slender man of average height with broad shoulders, he had a fair complexion and blond hair and was dressed in black leather with a stiff collar around his neck.
The bot on the right was much taller and heavily muscled. He was dressed in the same fashion as the Damarian Ambassador who had visited Frake’s Peak earlier that morning. His expression was brutish and angry.
As the simulations’ features solidified, Lord Marlan held a hand out to the bot on the left. “You already know Valan, a trusted advisor to Lord Rarick.” He held out his other hand to the taller bot. “This is—”
The bot strode toward Lord Obdurin and said, “I am Warwick d’Ardel, Emperor Rarick’s brother, and I will be the next Lord of Frake’s Peak. You, old man, will give me Rhysin’s heart.”
“Warwick, please,” Marlan said. “A little patience.”
Obdurin asked, “This is your proposal? Give Rhysin’s heart to Rarick’s brother?”
“Hear us out,” Lord Marlan said.
“But first, Obdurin,” the Valan-bot said, “Quarters have been prepared for your bondsan.”
“Quarters?” Obdurin asked.
“Yes.” Valan nodded. “We have much to discuss. Your bondsan will be cared for, but their continued presence at these talks can only be interpreted as a threat.”
Walden said, “Lord Rarick sent three men to peace talks at Frake’s Peak this morning with the intention of blowing Frake’s Peak up.”
“So you understand our concern that you might attempt a counterstrike?” Valan asked.
Ethan stepped forward from his place at Obdurin’s shoulder. “I understand you’re trying to leave Lord Obdurin unprotected.”
Valan started to respond, but Lord Marlan raised a hand calling for silence and said, “Lord Obdurin is a guest in my house.”
The Warwick-bot pressed his right fist into his left palm and then his left fist in his right palm.
To Obdurin, Marlan said, “Consider the proposal. If you reject it, you will be free to leave for Frake’s Peak unmolested. If necessary, I will provide you with an escort home.”
“He is here to give me Rhysin’s heart,” Warwick said. “He may not know it yet, but that is why Rhysin compelled him to come here.”
Vincent looked at Obdurin, and in his peripheral vision, he noticed the rest of their party doing the same thing.
Lord Obdurin’s smile was small but amused. “If this is the extent of your proposal, I will leave now.” Obdurin turned to leave.
Warming to his subject, Warwick said, “The Gods need time to recover from the Cleansing. They need peace, but you, old man, you stand in the way of peace.”
Obdurin stopped. “I stand in the way of peace?” He looked around the room at his people and the simulations. Nobody said anything. “I have struggled for eight years to bring peace to Newterra. I have reached out to every single Chosen in the time I have been Lord of Frake’s Peak and all but begged for peace between us.”
“And when they rejected your overtures of peace, what did you do?” Valan asked.
“I persisted!” Obdurin shouted.
“And then?” Valan asked in a calm voice.
“I tried again and again,” Obdurin said in a quieter voice.
“And when it became clear your desire for peace was not reciprocated?” Valan asked.
Obdurin stared at the bot, but he refused to answer.
“You attempted to have them replaced with men who would reciprocate,” Valan said. “You managed to replace Chosen on a couple of occasions, though peace is still elusive. I wonder if that is because the men you installed as Chosen, understand that if they do not see peace the way you do, you will have them in turn replaced.”
“Nonsense,” Walden snapped.
“We should all strive for peace,” Obdurin said.
“We should,” Valan agreed. “But if we are to have peace among the Chosen, they must know they are free to act in the best interests of peace without fear of reprisal. You cannot be part of any solution because the other Chosen are too fearful to sit at the table with you.”
Ethan swore and advanced on Valan’s simulation.
Valan stayed where he was, unafraid. He watched Ethan as he advanced. “Do you dispute the truth in this, loyal lieutenant? Tell me again, what event was it that prompted Lord Obdurin and Rhysin to award you with the honorific Godkin?”
“You bastard,” Ethan growled and reached for his short sword.
“No, Ethan,” Obdurin said.
Uncertain, Ethan looked back at Lord Obdurin and asked, “You’re not going to listen to this, are you?”
Obdurin was silent.
Ethan said to Valan, “You were there. You have as much blood on your hands as I do.”
Valan nodded. “Yes. I was there. I accept my part in what we did, and I ask you, is there peace between Rhyne and Mawtar as a result of what we did?”
“I will listen to your proposal,” Obdurin said in a quiet, thoughtful voice.
“Your bondsan will be shown to the quarters that have been prepared for them.” Valan gestured toward the back of the room where two smartly dressed women waited patiently, wearing the practiced smiles of people who had worked in hospitality for too long.
Obdurin glanced at Ulri and Gordon. Ulri responded to the unspoken command instantly and retreated. Gordon and his cadre stayed where they were.
Fahlim asked, “The bondsan will be housed comfortably. No doubt in a secure location? “
“Yes. For their own protection,” Valan said.
“They will be fine,” Lord Marlan said. “You’re all my guests.”
Ulri’s cadre followed one of the women from the room.
“Gordon?” Lord Obdurin said.
“Yes, Lord?” the first-sworn asked without looking at Obdurin.
“Is there a problem?”
“No problem, Lord,” Gordon said, his expression neutral.
“Perhaps you don’t understand my intentions.”
“Intentions understood, Lord.” Gordon still didn’t move.
Fahlim clapped his hands together and said, “At last! I’ve waited years for this. You know, Obdurin, it’s about time one of your bondsan showed a shred of self-preservation. Gordon, you have restored my faith in... oh never mind, no reason to exaggerate. Gordon, I wouldn’t allow myself to be voluntarily locked in a cell to await execution either. Good for you, old man.”
“Nobody is going to be executed,” Lord Marlan said.
“Have you told them that?” Fahlim pointed at Valan and Warwick.
Marlan insisted, “You’re all under my protection.”
Gordon said,
“You misunderstand. My actions are not out of concern for my cadre, but for Lord Obdurin’s safety and protection.”
“Oh come now,” Fahlim said. “We were so close. Even now, you talk about your cadre and Lord Obdurin, but what about yourself?”
Gordon shifted where he stood. The minute gesture was the closest thing approaching discomfort Vincent had ever seen from the bondsan. “A first-sworn does not concern himself with questions of self. There is no self. The closest thing to self is the cadre.”
“Lord Marlan has vouched for my safety, Gordon,” Lord Obdurin said.
“Yes, Lord. He has.” Gordon remained still with every pair of eyes in the room regarding him.
Obdurin’s voice turned hard. “Bondsan, you swore an oath to obey me. I order you to accept the accommodation that has been prepared for you and your cadre.”
For the first time Gordon met Obdurin’s gaze. In a tone devoid of emotion he said, “I swore an oath to obey and protect you, Lord. When there is a conflict between obey and protect, I must exercise my discretion.”
Despite himself, a small smile tripped Obdurin’s next words. “You’re too old to start lawyering, Gordon.”
Gordon nodded but said nothing further.
With a touch of impatience in his tone, Valan said, “Bondsan, your stance is admirable but misguided. Your continued presence here is a sign of hostility, and will ultimately demand a response from Lord Marlan and Lord Rarick’s representatives. I assure you, there will be no room for peace talks after such a response. Ulri Chi’Obdurin Bondsan apparently understands that the best chance for peace in Central Newterra is to allow these talks to proceed.”
“Ulri Chi’Obdurin Bondsan was raised and trained under Lord Benshi,” Gordon said. “I don’t hold his unquestioning obedience against him or his cadre. I have served three of Rhysin’s Chosen, and I was trained to think as much as to act. Right now, I think Lord Obdurin is Central Newterra’s best chance of peace.” Gordon looked around the room, considering the deadlock.
“I wouldn’t ask this of you if it weren’t so important,” Lord Obdurin said.
“I won’t leave you unprotected,” Gordon said.
“Gordon—”
Gordon continued talking over Lord Obdurin. This took Obdurin and everybody in the room aback. “I will, however, accept a substitute to stand in my stead.”
“Bots?” Valan asked incredulously.
“No. Siaveen Chi’Marlan Bondsan. If Lord Marlan will permit her cadre to stand in our place and protect my Lord. We will leave Turintar if that is agreeable to everybody.”
“This is ridiculous,” Warwick said.
Gordon looked at the bot and said, “I will not willingly leave Lord Obdurin under any other circumstances.”
“Marlan?” Valan asked.
“Lord Marlan,” Marlan snapped, and Vincent saw why. There had been more than a hint of humor in Valan’s tone.
What’s he up to? Vincent wondered. Something about Valan reminded Vincent of Fahlim though they were as physically unalike as any two people could be. He’s playing games too, but what is it about Gordon’s demand that pleases him? Marlan can’t agree if his intention is to betray Obdurin. Vincent looked at Warwick again and concluded, It forces Marlan to protect Obdurin from Warwick. Why does that amuse Valan?
“Is this acceptable to you?” Marlan asked Obdurin.
“It appears I have very little choice in the matter,” Obdurin said.
Chosen, Vincent thought with disdain. Why am I here? These games are too much for me.
Lord Obdurin continued, “I have faith in Siaveen’s abilities and integrity if you’re prepared to allow her to swear a temporary oath to me.”
Lord Marlan nodded and said, “It appears none of us have any choice in the matter.” Marlan fixed his eyes on Gordon. “I am afraid you’re far too clever for your own good, but I am agreeing to this because nobody intends to betray your Lord.”
“We are wasting time,” Warwick said. “None of this is necessary. Give me Rhysin’s heart, old man, you will in the end anyway.”
“I will hear your proposal, Warwick,” Obdurin said. “If it’s truly the best way to achieve peace in Newterra, I will willingly give you Rhysin’s heart. However, I won’t believe that, if you keep beating your chest and prove yourself incapable of sitting through a discussion of the facts.”
Warwick frowned at Obdurin’s words, but he didn’t say anything else.
A cadre of steely-haired middle-aged women entered the throne room through a door behind the throne. They descended the steps at the front of the platform in single-file, each cadre-mate a reflection of the one before them. They were all armed with a laser-cutter and a katana. They looked tough and competent, and their scars told Vincent that even damn politicians, or perhaps especially damn politicians, needed protection.
Vincent assumed that Lord Marlan had summoned the cadre and summoned them telepathically, but then he remembered the figure in the room with them was only a simulation. Marlan might have muted his simulation to issue instructions to Siaveen. He wondered what else had been muted.
The woman leading the cadre stopped in front of Lord Obdurin and said, “Lord, if you will allow it, I give my oath to stand in Gordon Chi’Obdurin Bondsan’s place as your protector.”
Lord Obdurin said only, “Thank you, Siaveen.”
Gordon said, “Siaveen, if you stand in my place you must act as I would and place Lord Obdurin’s safety above all other concerns.”
She smiled at Gordon and said, “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him for you.”
Gordon bowed, perhaps to hide his answering smile. An instant later he and his entire cadre skimmed to the back of the room. They skimmed once more and were gone.
The woman who had waited to show them to their quarters looked irritated but left and closed the doors behind her.
Siaveen’s cadre arranged themselves behind Lord Obdurin. The first-sworn stepped back a pace but stayed close to her new charge. The smile she had shown Gordon replaced by a look of competent determination.
Warwick said, “Right, send her away.”
“Excuse me?” Marlan asked.
“She got rid of the old bondsan and his cadre. Her work is done. Send her away.”
Siaveen stayed where she was.
“I don’t think you understand,” Marlan said. “My bondsan gave her word. She will stay by Lord Obdurin’s side until Gordon Chi’Obdurin Bondsan relieves her. Anyway, there is no need to send her anywhere, we are here to discuss our proposal.”
“We’ve already talked too much. I don’t need his consent to take Rhysin’s heart. The Gods have arranged this, and I am ready,” Warwick said. “One cadre is a small price to pay. It would have been better if it were his cadre that had to die instead of one of yours.”
“No,” Marlan shouted. “You will not do this, Warwick.”
Obdurin’s companions moved into defensive positions around him, Walden, and Doran. Siaveen’s cadre stood shoulder to shoulder with Obdurin’s people.
“It’s already done, Marlan. You’re too accommodating, too sentimental,” Warwick said.
Among Obdurin’s protectors, Pete said, “If you ladies try any funny business, I’ll gut the lot of you.”
Marlan insisted, “This isn’t the way to peace.”
One of the women, Vincent thought it was Siaveen, but he couldn’t be sure, said, “We outnumber you. Please focus—“
“I like a challenge,” Pete said dryly.
“We shall make peace when I wear Rhysin’s heart,” Warwick said.
“Please focus on protecting Lord Obdurin,” the woman next to Pete said. “If you’d like to cross swords with us when this is over, we’ll be happy to provide you with some instruction, but for now we promised Gordon Chi’Obdurin Bondsan to act in his stead. If he can trust us, you should too.”
To Vincent’s surprise, Pete said, “Good ‘nuff.”
At the center of the circle, Lord Obdurin said, “D
oran, please prepare yourself.”
The doors around the room opened, and dozens of black armored troops carrying laser-cutters marched through.
“Stop!” Marlan shouted. “What are you doing? This is not what we agreed. Stop!”
In a louder voice now, Lord Obdurin asked, “Do you see what aligning yourself with Rarick gets you?”
The light in the room dimmed, and in his peripheral vision, Vincent detected shadows gathering behind them.
“Warwick, Lord Obdurin is a guest in my house. I have given my word to protect him. Do not make a liar out of me,” Marlan said. “Tell your men to lay down their arms and leave the throne room.”
Warwick sneered at Marlan.
“Valan, tell him this is not how we agreed to do this,” Marlan said.
“This way or the other, the results are the same,” Valan said.
“I will not permit this,” Marlan said.
“Me either.” Ethan fired two quick shots. The first shot took the Warwick-bot in the chest. The articulated simulation collapsed in a shower of sparks, and the foam that made up the body was consumed in a quick burst of flames. The second shot took off the Valan-bot’s right arm.
Valan glanced at his missing arm. He looked at Ethan and raised his remaining hand, palm out and fingers spread. He ran forward. “Wait. Everything is not as it appears.”
Ethan said, “I’ve dreamt of doing this. I just wish it was really you and not a bot.”
Valan yelled, “d’Shan knows.”
Ethan’s third shot didn’t miss. The sphere powering the Valan-bot exploded, and the body was instantly consumed in flames.
9
Rough Diplomacy
The ceiling lights high above flickered then went out. For an instant, the only light came from the smoldering embers of Valan’s and Warwick’s destroyed bots. Fog illuminated with silver light appeared with the suddenness of a switch being thrown. Moonlight? Vincent wondered. It’s not even midday.
Vincent glanced at Doran. The girl had a determined look on her face, and her clenched fists trembled at her side. A shadow moved behind her that made Vincent shiver.
Several angry red blisters of light sped toward the protective circle around Lord Obdurin, and somebody cried out in pain or surprise. Ethan staggered as though struck in the shoulder, but Vincent didn’t think the exclamation had been his. The solid black man charged into the silvery mist and was gone.