«I have placed myself in your hands,» the Makuraner general said. «I shall wait and see whatever it is. If I do not accept it. I rely on you to return me to my soldiers once more. You have fought hard against the armies of Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his years be many and his realm increase, but you have for the most part shown yourself honorable.»
«For which I thank you,» Maniakes said. «I've thought the same of you, by the bye. Had we started on the same side, I think we might have been friends.»
«This thought has also crossed my mind,» Abivard said, «but the God—» He dropped back into Makuraner to name his deity. «—chose my sovereign as he willed, not as I might have willed. Being only a mortal, I accept the God's commands.»
«Your sovereign certainly knows you're only a mortal.» Maniakes remarked. Abivard sent him a curious look. He pretended not to notice it. He did not need to pretend for long, for the Renewal came up to the little harbor in the palace quarter. Men stood on the quays to catch the ropes the sailors threw to them and to make the dromon fast to the pier.
Abivard watched the process with interest. «They know their business,» he observed.
«They'd better,» Maniakes answered. He waited till the gangplank led from ship to pier, then strode up it, waving for Abivard to follow. «Come, eminent sir,» he said, granting Abivard the highest rank of Videssian nobility. «Have a look at what you could not take.»
Abivard did, with lively curiosity that grew livelier as they pressed into the palace quarter toward the imperial residence. «So this is what I could not see,» he said when they turned a corner and a building hid the sea from sight. «Till now, I gained more detail On things I gazed at from afar. This, though, this is new to me.»
Waiting at the residence stood Rhegorios, Symvatios, and the elder Maniakes. Abivard bowed to all three of them. The elder Maniakes held out his hand, saying, «Good to see you again when we're not trying to kill each other.»
Abivard accepted the handclasp. «Indeed. Were it not for the army you once commanded, Sharbaraz would not be King of Kings today.»
«He is King of Kings today, though, worse luck,» the elder Maniakes growled. «But whether he'll be King of Kings tomorrow…» His voice trailed away.
Abivard's face went stiff, masklike. «If you have summoned me here to seek to make me rebel against Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his days be long and his realm increase, please take me back over the Cattle Crossing now. I will not betray my sovereign.»
«No?» Maniakes led the Makuraner into the residence. Kameas came up to them, carrying a silver tray. Abivard looked at the vestiarios without curiosity; the Makuraner court used eunuchs, too. Considering the way the Makuraners so often mewed up their women, that was anything but surprising. Maniakes took the parchment off the tray and handed it to Abivard. «No?» he repeated. «Not even after this?»
Watching Abivard read it through, he could tell exactly when the Makuraner marshal came to the passage ordering his own elimination. Abivard did not shout or bellow or grow visibly angry. His face just set more firmly into nonrevelation. When he was through, he looked up at Maniakes. «How did you come by this?»
«Luck,» the Avtokrator answered. «Nothing but luck. One of our raiding parties happened to run into the messenger before he got to Across.»
«Before I do anything about it,» Abivard said, «I will want proof it is genuine, you know.»
Maniakes nodded. «I thought you would say as much. You leave as little to chance as you can—I've seen that fighting you. I don't suppose you'll trust my wizards: I wouldn't, in your place. If you want to bring a Makuraner mage over here to test the truth, you may do so.»
«That you make the offer goes a long way toward telling me this letter is genuine.» Abivard let out a long sigh. «It doesn't surprise me. Sharbaraz has come close to taking my head before, as you may or may not have heard. But I will know for certain before I decide what to do next. One of my two chief mages is a Makuraner. The other is of Videssian blood.»
«I knew that—or thought as much, anyhow,» Maniakes broke in. «If it weren't so, the Voimios strap conjuration we used last year would have confused you longer than it did.»
«Bad enough as things were.» Abivard shook his head. «Ride into a canal, head for the other side, and come back out where you started—as I say, bad. But does the truce hold for Panteles, too?»
«Aye, it does,» Maniakes answered. «He'll have to stay with you always, though. If he ever comes back into the Empire when he's not under your protection, his head goes up on the Milestone.»
«I agree,» Abivard said. «I would say the same if you had a Makuraner traitor in your midst, as Videssians have been known to do.»
«Speaking of traitors, how's Tzikas these days?» Rhegorios asked.
«Alive,» Abivard said. «Unfortunately. Sharbaraz thinks well of him, since he can't possibly aim to set his fundament on the throne of Mashiz.»
«That may matter less in the way you look at the world than it did a little while ago,» Maniakes observed.
«It may,» Abivard agreed. «And, then again, it may not.» He looked down at the parchment he was still holding and read through it again. «We shall see.»
Bringing the wizards over the Cattle Crossing without arousing undue suspicion proved easier than Maniakes had expected. When his envoy said they were needed for the truce talks, the Makuraners accepted that not only without hesitation but also without further questions. Panteles and Bozorg hopped into a Videssian boat, were rowed out to the Renewal, and traveled back to Videssos the city in the course of a couple of hours.
«If you're vague enough,» Maniakes said, watching the dromon tie up at the little palace-quarter harbor, «you can get away with anything.»
«What do you mean, vague?» Rhegorios' voice rose in mock indignation. «We didn't even tell any lies.»
Like Abivard, Maniakes was determined to observe the tests me Makuraner marshal's mages would use on the captured parchment That meant he had to have his own mages present, lest those working for the other side try to turn their sorcery against him. He would have summoned Bagdasares and Philetos in any case, to make sure Panteles and Bozorg did not try to feed Abivard results that were not true.
Bozorg examined the parchment with the air of a man looking Over a fish several days out of water. He was tall and thin and clever-looking, with the perfectly upright posture a column would have envied. At last, in grudging tones, he said, «It does have the look of a document that may perhaps—perhaps, I say, mind you—have come from the court of the King of Kings.» As he himself had come from the court of the King of Kings to serve Abivard, that was no small admission.
Panteles said nothing at all. Though he'd been promised safety while in Videssos the city, he had the air of a man ready to flee at any moment. Coming to the imperial capital seemed to have reminded him he was a Videssian, and therefore an embarrassment to other Videssians.
His conscience is still breathing, Maniakes thought. Coming here wouldn't bother Tzikas a bit.
Abivard told his mages, «I want you to let me know whether Maniakes is being more clever than he has any business being—» He sent the Avtokrator a look full of mistrustful warmth. «—or whether Sharbaraz really does want Romezan to drop me into the Void.»
«Lord, my own provenance will aid us in that,» Bozorg said, speaking elegant Makuraner. «By the law of contagion, both this letter and I are in contact with the court of the King of Kings, and thus with each other.»
«Go ahead, then. Do whatever you need to do,» Abivard said. Maniakes nodded. His heart sped up in his chest. Once Abivard was convinced—if Abivard was convinced—Sharbaraz wanted to be rid of him… All manner of interesting things might happen then.
Bozorg set the captured letter on a table, then strode across the chamber in the imperial residence till he stood next to the wall farthest from that table. «Once in contact, always in contact,» he said. «If this letter in fact emanates from the court of the King of Kings, the spe
ll I am about to use will draw it to me once more. I begin.» Maniakes could follow spoken Makuraner, but caught only the occasional word of the wizard's chant. Philetos, though, was paying close attention, alert for any discrepancy from a spell and a type of spell evidently familiar to him.
Bozorg raised his hands and made a few passes with them: nothing complicated or ornate, which suggested to Maniakes that the spell was as basic as the arrogant Makuraner mage claimed. Bozorg called out in a loud, commanding voice—and the parchment flew across the room and came to rest on his right hand.
He looked from it to Maniakes to Abivard. Voice cautious, he said, «This does appear to indicate that the letter came from the court at Mashiz, as the Avtokrator of the Videssians has asserted.» That was no small admission; coming from the court himself, he was more likely to be a creature of Sharbaraz's than of Abivard's. Panteles walked over to him and took the parchment. Speaking Videssian, the mage said, «There is a simple test to see whether the letter is to be directly associated with the King of Kings.» He fumbled in his beltpouch, eventually drawing forth a new-minted silver arket. «Using this coin with Sharbaraz' image, we can apply the law of similarity to determine the relationship of the parchment to the King of Kings.»
«That is sound sorcery,» Bagdasares said. Philetos nodded. After a moment, so did Bozorg.
Maniakes glanced at Bagdasares with a certain amount of amusement. Not so long before, Bagdasares had used a Makuraner coin himself when he sorcerously spied on Abivard's conference with Etzilios. Though in his person far away in Mashiz, Sharbaraz played a vital role here.
The Videssian wizard in Abivard's pay went about his business with matter-of-fact competence. His spell, though carried out in Videssian, seemed closely related to the one Bozorg had used. He set the coin on the table where the Makuraner mage had placed the letter. Holding the sheet in his left hand, he began to chant.
«Wait,» Bagdasares said suddenly. He, too, produced a coin from his pouch: a goldpiece of Maniakes' minting. He put it on the table not far from the silver arket. «This will provide a check. If the parchment goes to it, you will know we seek to lead you astray.»
Panteles nodded his agreement to the change in the sorcery. So did Abivard, who said quietly, «If you are so sure you can prove your own innocence here, that is no small sign of it.»
Again, the Videssian mage began his chant. He let the parchment drop from his hand—but it did not fall to the floor. Floating in the air as if it were a wisp of smoke, it drifted toward the table on which rested the two coins, one Videssian, the other Makuraner. Even though Maniakes knew he had captured the message rather than fabricating it, he tensed. Maybe Panteles was clever enough to fool both Bagdasares and Philetos. Or maybe the magic would simply go wrong.
Softly, softly, the parchment descended on the arket blazoned with Sharbaraz's imperious profile. Maniakes heaved a sigh of relief. Abivard sighed, too: the sigh of a man who now had to choose a course he might have hoped to avoid. And all four mages in the chamber sighed as well, having shown their masters what was so and what was not.
Turning to Bozorg, Abivard spoke in his own language: «Tell me, my friend—do I deserve such treatment from Sharbaraz King of Kings?» He did not wish his overlord either long days or many years.
The Makuraner mage licked his lips. If he was from the court in Mashiz, he had to have risen under Sharbaraz's eye. And yet, by the way Abivard asked the question, Bozorg also seemed to have been with the Makuraner marshal for some time. Had that not been so, Abivard would have got rid of him on the instant—or Maniakes would have, in Abivard's position, to keep the mage from upsetting whatever plans he might make.
«Lord, I have seen you in war for some years now,» Bozorg said slowly. «All that Sharbaraz has asked of you, all that a man could do: this you have done. For him to pay you back by ordering you treacherously slain… lord, there is no justice in that. Tell me what to do. In any way I can, I shall aid you. By the God and the Prophets Four I swear it. May I be lost forever in the Void if I lie.»
«I stand with you, too, lord,» Panteles said quickly. Abivard nodded in absentminded acknowledgment. The Videssian who served him had little choice but to stay loyal: he couldn't return to his homeland, and who else among the Makuraners was likely to want him?
Abivard spoke wonderingly: «So it comes to this at last. I could have rebelled against the King of Kings half a dozen times, and always I held back, out of loyalty and because my sister Denak is his principal wife. Now I have no choice, not if I want to go on breathing.»
«Your sister had a son last year, I hear,» Maniakes said. «At last,» Abivard agreed, «and, I daresay, to everyone's astonishment.»
«As may be,» Maniakes said. «You might go further among your own people as uncle and protector to the infant King of Kings than as an out-and-out usurper seizing power for no one but yourself.»
«Mm, so I might.» Abivard cocked his head to one side. «May I speak with you alone, your Majesty?»
«You may.» Maniakes spoke without hesitation, finding Abivard a most unlikely assassin. The Avtokrator gathered up Philetos and Bagdasares by eye. They led their thaumaturgical counterparts out of the chamber in which they had proved the parchment genuine. Bagdasares closed the door behind him. Maniakes gestured for Abivard to say whatever he had in mind.
After coughing a couple of times, the Makuraner marshal came out with it: «Your Majesty, will you be so good as to invite my principal wife Roshnani—she may as well be my only wife, as I've not set eyes on any of the others for ten years and more—to Videssos the city? No one would think that odd in the least; everyone knows how fond she is of the easier way between men and women you Videssians have.»
«Yes, I'll do that,» Maniakes said at once. «By the way you ask, though, you sound as if you don't want me to invite her just for the sake of banquets where she can eat with you without scandalizing three quarters of your comrades.»
«Half of them, I'd say.» Abivard's eyes twinkled. «We have come a little way, we Makuraners, from what we were when we crossed the Videssian border as refugees all those years ago, Sharbaraz and Denak and Roshnani and I.» He grew intent once more. «But the reason we crossed to Videssos—that was Roshnani's idea, not Sharbaraz's or mine.»
«Really?» Maniakes said in genuine surprise. Abivard nodded «Isn't that interesting?» the Avtokrator murmured. «So the real reason you want her here is so the two of you can do a better job of plotting, is it?» Abivard nodded again. Maniakes went on, «There is, of course, the chance I take that you'll be plotting against me, but I'll risk it. She ought to get on well with Lysia, as a matter of fact.»
«I can see that,» Abivard agreed. «By all accounts, your marriage is as far removed from your customs as mine is from ours.»
«Further, maybe,» Maniakes said, with a bitterness that would not fade. After a moment, he tried for a more judicious view: «And maybe not, too. I look at mine from the inside and yours from the outside, so my view of the two is different. But I didn't bring you here to talk philosophy. I brought you here to talk rebellion. And if having your lady here will help that, eminent sir, have her you shall.»
Roshnani's round, pleasant face proved to conceal a mind convoluted enough to have made her a great success as a Videssian logothete. «Romezan isn't going to want to believe this or to revolt on account of it,» she said when Maniakes and Abivard had brought her up to date on why her husband and she had been asked to Videssos the city. «He's a high noble of the Seven Clans, the great families that support the King of Kings.»
Maniakes looked at Abivard. «And you're not.»
«Not even close.» Abivard's smile had knives in it. «I'm just a jumped-up frontier dihqan—a minor noble, but one to whom Sharbaraz happens to owe his life, his freedom, his throne… minor details. To be just, Romezan doesn't fret about class the way so many Seven Clan nobles do. A good many officers under him would like to think of me as a cursed upstart, but I've started up so high, you might say, that
they don't dare.»
Roshnani's eyes lit up. «And you know who those officers are, too. You could make a long list of them.»
«I could, yes, without any trouble.» Abivard said. Roshnani reached out and let her hand rest on his for a moment. Maniakes nodded thoughtfully. Yes, the Makuraner marshal and his wife were as isolated from their army as he and Lysia were from the people and clergy of Videssos the city.
In a small, innocent voice, Roshnani went on, «And you could add that list of officers from the high nobility—and some officers you know the King of Kings doesn't favor—to Sharbaraz's letter to Romezan, so that it would look as if he were supposed to kill every last one of them, not you alone.»
«That's—fiendish,» Maniakes said, his own voice full of astonished admiration. He turned to Abivard. «If a lot of Makuraner women are like this, I can see why you keep so many of them under lock and key—they'd be dangerous if you let them run around loose.»
«Thank you, your Majesty,» Roshnani said. «Thank you very much.»
«I was right,» the Avtokrator said. «You will get on well with Lysia. Will the two of you dine with us tonight?»
«Of course,» Abivard said.
«We've grown fond of Videssian cooking,» Roshnani added. «We've spent so much time at Across—»
Maniakes smiled back at her, but it wasn't easy. He'd thought he was making a joke with Abivard. Now, abruptly, he wasn't so sure.
When the only seafood the cook served that evening was raw oysters, Roshnani said, «Did you think we were only being polite when we said we liked Videssian food?»
«By no means,» Maniakes answered. «I'm not eating fish or crabs or prawns myself these days.» He explained why, and had the small satisfaction of watching Roshnani and Abivard turn green.
They recovered, however, to do justice to seethed kid and roast mutton with garlic. The only thing they would not do was pour fermented fish sauce over the mutton. «Has nothing to do with the sea fight,» Abivard said. «But I found out how the stuff was made, not long after I came into the Empire of Videssos. I haven't been able to stomach it since.»
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