by Guy Antibes
“That’s not for me to say. If you want me to pass on any messages to your son, let me know.”
Neel ground his teeth. “No one is supposed to know he’s my son.”
“I’m afraid that secret is out of the bag, Nellus.”
“Neel.”
She gave him a grim smile. “Neel, then. Prince Asem and his second wife, the Lady Kulara, are staying with Trak and are safe. The girl that he did some learning with—“
“Valanna Sleekbottle”
“Yes, Miss Sleekbottle, whose real last name is Almond, is now a guest of Misson Dalistro after he spirited her away from the Magicians Guild in Mozira.”
Neel smiled to himself. “Trak liked her more than he ever admitted, even after she left to go back to Warish. I always thought she was an unwilling spy. Coffun told me.”
“You know Mr. Cricket?”
“We both know Mr. Cricket. He makes it his purpose to keep tabs on everyone. Working for that toad, Feely, he has let us all know what Warish is doing and I’m sure he talks to you regularly and, of course, Dalistro and his agents when they are in Pestledown. We are a loving little community, except for Dalistro’s last visit. My feelings are hurt that he didn’t visit.”
Leaf narrowed her eyes and looked shrewish. “We could have a closer relationship, Nellus.”
“Why Leaf, you are married to Berin Titrius.”
She blushed and gave Neel a disapproving look. It made her look older. He liked her smiling better. “Professionally, I mean,” she said. “You are too much a freelancer, with your freedom fighting friends. You’ll never have the strength to restore true order to Pestledown.”
Neel bowed his head and shook it. “It is a pity isn’t it? I have a few things up my sleeve,” he said as he raised his face. “Leaf, right now, we are on the same side in Pestle. As long as that is the case, consider me an ally, especially now that we’ve actually met. I appreciate your coming to deliver it in person.”
Leaf rose from her chair. “That is most of my message. The rest is that Trak is an extraordinarily strong magician.”
That made Neel rather proud, since he knew that all of those military forms that he had drilled in to Trak’s head would make the magic easier. He had to be strong coming from such a strong magic heritage. “I’m glad to know that my son has landed in friendly hands. I truly am. Thank you for coming.”
“Don’t be a stranger. Cricket knows where I live.”
“I might surprise you by bringing a dead mouse and leaving it on your doorstep.” Neel grinned after getting the appropriately shocked look on her face. “That is an expression of love, by the way, among the feline crowd.”
“I’m sure it is. Good day, uh, Neel.” She blushed and hurried out the door and down the stairs.
Neel looked out from the window that looked onto the stable yard. She picked her way through and left without going through the inn. However, he caught Esmera looking up at him from the porch and then at Leaf. He laughed at what Esmera must have thought. Unfortunately, his train of thought set him to thinking about his long lost wife, Galinda. He suddenly yearned for another drink, but would save his sorrow-making for the evening. He felt a conversation with Esmera was in order.
He put on his socks and his boots and clumped along the catwalk and then down to the inn’s porch. Esmera waited for him at the bottom.
“Do we have something to worry about?”
Neel grinned. “No, we don’t. She is a Colcanan.”
Esmera looked seriously into his eyes. “She looks like one.” She looked closely at Neel. “You, for instance. Santasia hasn’t invaded Colcan yet, have they?”
Neel’s grin faded. “Not here, let’s go inside.”
“Do you need something to eat?”
“Does a snake slither?” He smiled. “In your office?”
She nodded. “I’ll pull something together. It won’t take long.”
Neel walked through the dining room to the other side of the inn and down a corridor past the laundry and the baths. He opened a nondescript door and walked into a very nicely furnished large office. Esmera had a massive desk, filled with papers, notes, keys and who knew what else. The walls were painted a pale yellow with pictures of flowers and landscapes except for one entire wall filled with books neatly arranged in white cabinets. He sat on a wide darker yellow settee that faced two red easy chairs.
He kept himself from looking at a shelf containing bottled drink, wine and stronger things. Esmera walked in carrying a tray with two bowls and bread cut into pieces.
“Lamb stew, but you will find it very tasty. Bread and butter and we will drink lemon water with it.”
“Lemons from Warish?”
“South Pestle,” she said. “They are recently available. I’m sure the Warishians are responsible, preparing for their cuisine once they take over.”
“Now, now, Esmera. One must think positively. You never know when something interesting might happen.” He had to smile. It was time to let her in on his activities.
“What is something interesting?” she said. Neel leaned over. Her bowl contained a salad of some sort.
“What if, somehow, King Marom were to be assassinated and Prince Nez were to take the throne of Warish?”
Esmera snorted. “Utter chaos. Nez is a self-centered spoiled brat.”
“One who wouldn’t be satisfied given Pestle to rule.”
“That’s the thinking among most of us in the resistance.”
Neel had to laugh. “I’ve played an awful trick on Nez.”
She couldn’t keep her mouth closed.
“I have been sending him messages promising him the throne of Warish, if he takes care of his father. I’ve been sending them through the Norlandian consulate through a contact of mine. It’s all very discreet and very secret. I’m playing like I am the ruler of a sinister power.”
Esmera narrowed her eyes. “There are plenty of those about. What possessed you to do such a thing? You have no idea what the ultimate consequences are? What if another worse than Marom takes the throne?”
“No one is as devious as the Warishian king, except for me.”
Esmera laughed. “You devious? Not devious, but capricious. You fool.”
Neel shook his head. “What do we have to lose? In what? Five years, less? The Warish will have succeeded in destroying us from within. What can we do, create a bandit corps to stir up the rural citizens?” Neel sighed. “But they won’t fight. They are more concerned about getting their seeds planted and their harvest in.”
“Or market prices,” Esmera said. “I have to agree with you, but reluctantly. Changes are so slow that they don’t know how much better life was twenty years ago. I hope you know what you are doing.”
“Of course not! But, for the cost of a few notes on good Kandannan parchment, we might be able to stop or at least stall the inevitable Warish invasion.” Neel finally began to eat the stew, and then grinned. “This is very good.”
~~~
Chapter Thirty-Five
VALANNA LOOKED OUT THE WINDOW at the bare branches on the trees. Over a year ago, Trak had come to Espozia to learn under Dalistro and she had taken his place, living in a gilded prison for the last nine months. She looked across the room at Madame Barrazi, who Dalistro had foisted on her. She did teach her courtly manners, but she liked working with another set of tutors who had worked with her constantly to learn Santasian, history and politics.
She didn’t mind the language. It had its appeal and she could see how the language matched the emotional tempo of the Santasians. What a different culture than the severe Colcanans!
The lack of magic in her life had distressed her. Finally, she had found an adept in Kulara to teach her once she could really learn, not like it was at Honor’s studio. She missed observing the interplay between Asem and Kulara. She missed seeing Trak. He often came to mind and he obviously did to Dalistro as well, who would bring him up every few days.
He had treated her the best o
f anyone that she could remember, once her father died. Her uncle used her. She knew Asem had used her, but he was very honest about it, just like Dalistro. Had she romanticized and turned Trak into someone he wasn’t? She didn’t want her feelings to turn into an unwarranted obsession, yet he nearly was turning into one.
She would ask Dalistro to take her to Pestle or leave her on the Colcanan coast so she could find Trak again and confirm if her feelings were of a phantom or of a real person.
“My dear, it’s time to practice chatting. It is an art form in all of the courts I’ve been to,” Madame Barrazi said.
Just how many courts had Sereni Barrazi been to? Santasia had an aristocracy, barely. King Marom’s court in Balbaam now seemed barbaric and she’d never been close to the palace at Pestledown. Colcan had a king, but as far as she could tell, he was as vestigial as the Santasian aristocracy with most of the decisions made from Bitrium by the Board of Deans of the college.
“What shall we talk about, Sereni?”
The woman pursed her lips. “The problems our dear Misson is having with the council?”
“Oh, is he having problems with the council?” Valanna said.Rule: start the dreary exercise with a vacuous question.
“I’ve heard that he is,” Sereni said.Rule: never reveal your source unless you get something for it.
“It’s so hard to understand what goes on there.” Valanna said.Rule: always dissemble and make them think you know nothing at all.“Is his father antagonizing him again?”Rule: present something you know as a question so you get confirmation and, hopefully, new information.
Sereni examined her fingernails. “No, that new councilor, Zimontri, is demanding more intelligence about the Warishians.”Rule: new information always demands a follow-up.
Valanna laughed as Sereni had taught her to cover any alarm at a revelation, personal or political. “Are those nasty Warishians trying to bother Santasia?”Rule: probe interesting information while minimizing its importance to you with a comment that has a little naïveté thrown in.
“Actually, I think he said something about forming an alliance.” Sereni had just given her an actionable piece of new information.
Valiant took a sip of water, meant to be wine in a parlor setting, to collect her thoughts. It was another of Sereni’s rules to pause the conversation and give her a little time. “Wouldn’t that upset our dear friends the Pestlans?” Perhaps Valanna had been too direct in her question.
“Does it matter?” Sereni said.
Rule: Play along with your conversational partner and dissemble.“Of course not. Have you heard of any spring parties? I can’t help but notice the buds forming on the leaves. Blossoms and leaves can’t be far behind.”Rule: If the direction of the conversation gets too serious, change the subject to something superfluous.
Serena laughed. “Very good, what did you learn?”
Valiant took a deep breath. “Senior Dalistro has a new enemy on the council, this Zimontori, who is likely under the influence of a Warishian agent. He has either set up a syndicate of councilors or seeks one to shift Santasian’s alliances.” She took another sip of water. “I was unable to get any intelligence on spring parties, however,” Valanna said, smiling.Rule: always play the game with whomever you are with if you don’t trust them and Valanna did not exactly trust Sereni.
“You do have some talent for this. We will report our progress to Misson at lunch in…” Sereni looked at the clock. “…About ten minutes. I think it is time to freshen up.”
Valanna rose. “I will do just that. Thank you.” She curtseyed to Sereni and left the room.
Sereni and Dalistro giggled together over something when Valanna entered the dining room. If Sereni’s comments were correct, then she didn’t see any point in smiling. They abruptly stopped when the pair noticed her standing at the door.
“My dear, Valanna, Sereni tells me you were rather good in your deportment class today.”
She sat at the table and ignored Sereni. “Is it true about this Zimontori person?”
Dalistro’s smile disappeared and he looked seriously at Sereni. “You didn’t tell me what you discussed this morning, Sereni.” He turned to Valanna. “It is true and it worries me. The council is upset enough about King Marom’s methods in taking over Pestle. The suborning of the Pestlan populace takes immense patience, but it has nearly paid off and even though we see it coming there is not much that we can do as bystanders. Now Zimontori seems to be infected with the same pro-Warish disease. Unsettling, is it not?”
Valanna nodded her head. “There’s nothing to be done?”
Misson Dalistro smiled. “Perhaps, but we have other elements in Santasia that might represent more immediate danger and that is what is getting my attention now.”
“Other elements?” Sereni said. She petted Dalistro’s arm and put her mouth in a pout.
“Not for a lady’s ears,” Dalistro said.
She pouted a little more, but Dalistro merely changed the subject and nodded to the waiting servant to serve lunch.
Dalistro had taught her an important lesson, just then. There are subjects that can be shared and others that aren’t. She thought his put down of Madame Barrazi was well done. She would try a more direct approach later during her tutoring session with him.
An hour later, Dalistro and she sat in the library. A second desk had been moved in there for Trak and her tutor had never removed it. She reviewed her notes waiting for Dalistro to enter.
“There you are,” he said as he entered the room and locked the door. He hadn’t done that before. Valanna didn’t know if she should be afraid or not. “We will continue our discussions about the Colcanans.”
“But first, I’d like to know more about the situation in Santasia. I’m not a lady, yet.”
He grinned. “I wouldn’t be so hasty in your self-judgment, but we will make the discussion part of the course today. You already know of the growing friction between the Morizan guild and the one in Espozia. The Black Master Riotro has been a naughty boy and is stirring up the population in the Ozitzian section of the city. My information network is international, but not domestic, and I recently learned of this from my guild contacts in Mozira.” Dalistro paused to catch his breath a bit. “I need to send birds to Mozira to find out what is going on in my own city.” He shook his head with dismay.
“Riotro wants to enlist them to join a coup. He feels magicians should run Santasia, not a collection of wealthy merchants and antiquated aristocrats. Zimontori is actually a shill for Riotro and is intent on stirring up division within the council.”
“So while they are arguing, Riotro starts a revolution?” Valanna said. “That’s pretty transparent.”
Dalistro shrugged. “Most times it is easiest and most effective to take the easiest path. I want you to learn that. Look for the simple motives first and then challenge them with further analysis. Don’t be surprised if the simplest of motives are the real ones.”
“King Marom wants Pestle without diminishing his army, so he subverts the country?”
“Simple, is it not? The execution hasn’t been, but he has succeeded when I didn’t think Marom had a chance and I came to this conclusion five years ago, long after he had started.”
“But he wants to install Prince Nez as ruler of Pestle. That doesn’t make any sense to me. The Prince is a bully and a weakling.”
“He is, and I know that even more so, thanks to you.” He bowed his head in appreciation. “Perhaps he has a father’s love for his son and wants to give him a chance to succeed.”
Valanna snorted. “That won’t happen. I have a question for you. Why don’t you trust Madame Barrazi?”
He grinned and clapped his hands. “Excellent, you put a question into our conversation at a time when I won’t be concentrating on it like I did when we started. I have a simple answer. She is not to be trusted. Zimontori’s attitude was discussed in an intimate setting and she violated our understanding about such conversations.”
>
“Will you end my classes with her?”
Dalistro waved her comment away. “Of course not. We, or I should rather say ‘I’, will be more careful in the future. The information goes somewhere and likely not to my allies, so she becomes a mis-information conduit.”
Valanna was shocked. “You will use her now that she has shown such indiscretion?”
“Of course. It is a game that she plays and now she will wonder if I will give her any information at all. I won’t for a while, but then I will ‘soften up’ and find out where the little tidbits are going.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Even after what I have just told you? Certainly, I assume your first alliance to be with Pestle, even though you have spent most of your life in Warish. You are sympathetic to the Colcanans because they are aligned with the people of Pestle. You might relay this information to Asem, but do not think that the Prince will not betray you, if it suits him.”
“You won’t?”
Dalistro looked down at his hands splayed out on his desk. “I’m not sure. I have to protect my interests and the interests of the council.”
“Are your motives any more important to you than his are to him? Or do you think he is simple?”
“There is not a simple answer with that man, at least nothing that I can discern from afar. I’d need to meet him first.”
“Take me to Bitrium and I’ll introduce you.”
“Perhaps we might just do that, Valanna.”
~
Trak rode out of Bitrium with Honor and Rasia along with a few other scouts. “So this place that you take me won’t burn up?”
Rasia nodded her head. “It is a recently exhausted quarry. There are few close places left where the gray stone of Bitrium exists.”
If they ran out of the dour stuff, Trak wouldn’t mind at all. He looked back at Bitrium in the distance, the gray towers thrusting upward out of the lower city, like a clump of rushes alongside the Greenbrook stream that ran along the back of The Blunted Sword back home When had he last thought of home?