by Sharon Green
Which meant that victory was all but in their grasp. Delin began to whistle softly, a rollicking battle tune from many years earlier. The song celebrated complete success, and that made it completely fitting. Nothing but lumpish peasants stood between them and the Fivefold Throne, and soon the peasants would be gone.
Then … then!—their dreams would finally become a reality…
* * *
Zolind Maylock watched the five people walk away, for once finding it necessary to fight in order to keep his face expressionless. The only reason he’d been able to control himself at all was because it was the Arstin boy he’d spoken to. If he’d had to say even a single word to Moord…
“Sir, do you really intend to support them?” Embisson Ruhl asked quietly, a tightness to the man’s voice. As a High Lord, Ruhl was close to a number of Zolind’s fellow Advisors, and tended to behave accordingly. Zolind, however, regarded the man differently, and felt it was time to show the fact.
“You dare to question one of my decisions?” he asked just as softly, turning to stare at Ruhl. “Just who do you imagine you are?”
“Sir, I wasn’t questioning your decision,” Ruhl made haste to answer, wilting under Zolind’s stare as so many had before him. “I’m simply asking for enlightenment, as I’m aware of what close friends you were with Ollon Kapmar. It was my understanding that you came here today primarily to get a good look at his murderer.”
“And what a lucky thing that decision was,” Zolind muttered, turning again to send his hatred after Delin Moord. “If I weren’t here, you’d probably have ordered our last Blending executed for daring to survive their peers. I hate what I’m going to have to do, but at the moment there’s simply no other choice. I intend to do a good deal of deep thinking, and while I’m engaged with that, there’s something you must do.”
“Anything, sir, anything at all!” Ruhl exclaimed without hesitation, understanding the matter of responsibility without being told. Dolf was in the process of paying for that fiasco with his life, but ultimate responsibility for the matter rested with Ruhl. Zolind felt tempted to mete out to Ruhl the same fate Ruhl had meted out to Dolf, but at the moment the man was needed.
“I have a conviction about this whole thing that as yet has no basis in detailed fact,” Zolind said slowly. “In some way I’ve become certain that those people are the ones responsible for causing our near utter defeat today, and I’m ordering you to find the means of proving it. You have no more than a matter of days, as I’ll want the answer before those five are Seated on the Fivefold Throne—if they survive to be Seated.”
“If the proof is anywhere in the world, I’ll find it,” Ruhl said as though taking a blood oath. “And once I do, what will become of those five? If they’ve won the competitions in the meanwhile…”
“If they’ve won the competitions but I have proof of their duplicity, my course of action will be simple and easy,” Zolind replied with a faint smile. “I’ll simply disqualify them by having them executed, and announce that the retiring Five will remain on the Throne until next year, when the competitions will be held again. But in order to do that I need proof, so begin your investigations this instant.”
“Yes, sir, this instant,” Ruhl acknowledged, then the man hurried off to do whatever it was that he’d decided on. He’d probably realized that his life depended on finding what Zolind wanted, but that incentive might not be enough if the man was an incompetent. Others would be sent out to search, others like Anglard Nobin, who never cared about who he caught, just so long as that person was guilty.
And, of course, Zolind hadn’t mentioned the best option he had about what to do with an unwanted winning Blending. Those robes all the contestants wore… No one was really able to see faces under the hoods, so it wasn’t possible for the rabble to tell one group of five people from another. Their last remaining Blending would do its best to win for them, and then, when they did, they would be replaced by five other people, ones who could be trusted to do as they were told. And ones who weren’t terribly strong, or practiced as a Blending. Those with strength too often reached the point of deciding to use it, usually against those who knew the proper way of running an empire, as they did not…
The five people comprising the last Blending had disappeared from sight, but Zolind continued to stare after them. Ollon Kapmar had been more than simply Zolind’s good friend, and Zolind refused to rest until his murderer had paid for what he’d done. Which would hopefully be soon now, but not too soon to suit him…
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
If Vallant thought it had been a madhouse before in the gathering area, now it was complete chaos as well as insanity. People danced around screaming out their laughter, and were still being drowned out by the sounds from the crowd outside. It wasn’t possible to hear even shouted conversation, at least until the outer doors were closed. Then it became clear that the servants and various observers weren’t the only ones touched by jubilation.
“Man, we done it!” Holter suddenly came close to shout as he danced. “We done it, an’ it’s you we got to thank for makin’ it happen! On’y one a them noble groups left, an’ four a us! This time one a us’ll do it, damned if we don’t!”
Vallant felt like laughing at the sight of Holter dancing in his robe, but that wasn’t something you did to a friend. Besides, he was feeling too good himself to want to put anyone down, even if the large gathering area was beginning to seem smaller and smaller. He was not going to let his problem control him, not after they’d been so successful.
“Well, here comes Eltrina Razas,” Jovvi said, taking Vallant’s attention as well as that of everyone else in their group. “She’s wavering between a feeling of success and a feeling of failure, finding it hard to decide which to go with. I wonder why that is.”
“Maybe her happy feelings are based on the fact that her new superior seems to have disappeared,” Tamrissa commented. “I looked for him when we first came back in, wanting to see his expression when we didn’t immediately report for that ‘punishment,’ but I couldn’t locate him.”
“That’s because he isn’t anywhere within my range,” Jovvi said, obviously searching with more than just eyes. “His absence doesn’t look good for his future health, and for the sake of our own we’d better remember that he never came to speak to us. If they even bother to ask.”
The last of Jovvi’s words were little more than a murmur, as Eltrina Razas had finally reached them. The woman looked more than a little harried, but apparently wasn’t so distracted that she failed to give Vallant the sort of appraising look she usually did. Vallant hated that look, even though it had helped to make him understand why most women hated the same sort of thing from a man. The appraisal made him feel like less than a human being, more like a possession with no say over who did the possessing…
“Has any of you seen Lord Simin?” Eltrina said at once, cutting short her usual inspection time. “He was here just a little while ago, and now I can’t find him.”
“Who’s Lord Simin?” Tamrissa asked blandly, giving Eltrina a different sort of inspection. “Someone else who’s come to congratulate us on our victory?”
“No, of course not!” Eltrina snapped, then belatedly got the message. “I’m the one authorized to give you all the congratulations you deserve, and I certainly do. Lord Simin is my … superior, and he was supposed to have introduced himself to you.”
“The only one of your sort that we met was named Ophin,” Tamrissa replied with a shrug, looking around to the rest of the group for confirmation. “He showed us to our apartment here, and then he disappeared until it was time for us to go out. What’s so important about this other man you’re looking for? Has he stood you up or done something equally as vile?”
“No, and it’s not really all that important,” Eltrina returned tightly, fury in her eyes over Tamrissa’s use of the phrase, “your sort.” The suggestion was very strong that Eltrina’s “sort” was totally useless and completely unimpo
rtant, and the woman clearly resented the implication.
“It’s just that Lord Simin was supposed to tell those of you who won your encounters that you’ll be housed here, in the amphitheater, tonight,” Eltrina continued. “It’s an honor reserved only for those who earn it, so—”
“We’re not interested in being honored like that,” Jovvi interrupted before Eltrina might take their agreement as understood. “We’ll be returning to our residence tonight, where we can relax and celebrate properly.”
“Out of the question!” Eltrina snapped, back to her original, touchy self. “You’ll do as you’re told, or you’ll certainly come to regret your disobedience!”
“We’re not slaves who belong to you, lady,” Lorand said in a growl from where he stood behind Jovvi. “We’re free human beings who have emerged victorious from the first round of these competitions, and we’ll damned well be treated like it! Moderate your tone when you speak to us, or I’ll do it for you.”
“And I’ll take a great deal of pleasure in giving him assistance he has no need for whatsoever,” Rion added as Eltrina gasped out her insult. “You and your friends are fools to believe that nothing has changed, but you always have been fools. Be wise for once, and bow to the inevitable.”
“We’ll just see how inevitable your insolence is,” Eltrina snarled as she tossed her head. “I’ll get the rest of those fools sorted out, and then I’ll be back with guardsmen to see to you. If I were you, I’d spend my time until then practicing my begging and pleading.”
And with that she marched away, her nose in the air and her back very straight. Vallant joined the others in watching her go, and then he shook his head.
“She really is a fool,” he observed, stating the obvious. “How did she miss seein’ what we did durin’ the competition?”
“I got the impression that she was busy making herself indispensable to her new superior,” Jovvi responded very dryly. “The time didn’t take long, but neither did the competition. Let’s follow along and see how she does with ‘those other fools.’”
Everyone considered that an excellent suggestion, so they drifted after Eltrina. The woman had gotten the attention of a good number of robed figures, and now stood in the midst of them.
“You’re all to be sincerely congratulated,” she said with a smile that looked painful as she glanced around at her audience. “Now you’re to be honored for your efforts, and will therefore be shown to apartments here in the amphitheater for the night. There’s a giant celebration planned, at which you’ll all be guests of honor—”
“I don’t think so,” a male voice called out while everyone else began to mutter. “The only ones among us who took your suggestion about celebrating the last time are no longer living, which means the rest of us will be smart to ignore it again. We’ll just go back to where we belong for the night, and you and your friends can celebrate without us.”
“You can’t refuse!” Eltrina screeched as various forms of agreement came from the others standing around her. “It’s already planned, and it’s part of the tradition—!”
“Traditions come and go,” another voice, this time female, called out. “We’d rather not do the same without a struggle, so we’ll be going back to our residence also. If you and your people don’t like it, you can have your last remaining noble Blending face itself tomorrow. Or isn’t that allowed under the rules?”
Eltrina’s face had reddened in a blotchy way, and she didn’t respond immediately. One member of one of the other Blendings had discovered that no group could win the competitions by default, and had passed on the information to everyone else. If their four groups refused to step out tomorrow, the current members of the government would immediately be out of jobs, and their replacements would be responsible for straightening out whatever the trouble was before the competitions continued.
“I’ll—have to let you all know if returning to your residences is permitted,” Eltrina said at last, hatred and loathing in her voice. “You’ll all just have to wait here until I can reach—”
“Aren’t you able to understand simple speech?” Rion called out, extreme satisfaction in his tone. “We aren’t asking anyone’s permission, we’re telling you how we want it. Right now we’re going to change back into our ordinary clothing, and then we’ll be leaving. If you have anything else to say to us, send a messenger with a note.”
Supporting laughter came from all sides as everyone began to turn away. Vallant’s last view of Eltrina was her frantic screeching in an effort to force everyone to obey her, something she still seemed incapable of understanding that she wasn’t about to get. Then he was too far away to see or hear her any longer, a condition he intended to make permanent as soon as possible.
“The poor woman is apparently beside herself,” Jovvi murmured as they walked toward the rooms where they’d left their clothing. “She was delighted that she seemed to be back in charge, but now that things have gone wrong again she has no one else to pass the blame to. Her people really do want us handily close tonight, and I’d rather not speculate about why. I’m just relieved that the others supported us.”
“They knew they had no choice,” Vallant told her, passing on what Holter had said. “It’s perfectly clear that they’d want us handy only for a single reason: to make sure we don’t win again. If we’re goin’ to lose, we all want it to be out there in the middle of tryin’ to win. Gettin’ it in the back from people we aren’t supposed to be facin’ isn’t the same.”
“But going back to our residence won’t guarantee our safety,” Tamrissa reminded them. “It only makes our enemy come a longer distance to reach us, so we’ll have to stay alert. We can take turns standing guard, or at least most of us can. My own perceptions of body heat won’t work at too great a distance, so all I can do is watch everyone else be useful.”
“Stop that,” Vallant told her softly, drawing her close by an arm about her shoulders. “The way I remember it, the only reason our Blendin’ entity—and our bodies—survived that competition was because you protected us from that first, unannounced attack. You, all by yourself, callin’ on no one’s strength and ability but your own. That’s earned you the right to rest tonight, but I still have a question. Did that protectin’ harm you in any way at all?”
“It’s odd that you should ask,” Tamrissa replied with an expression of disturbance as she deliberately leaned into his embrace. “That Blending wasn’t very strong at all, but their attack was a great deal stronger than anything sent at me during the testing. I—shouldn’t have been able to hold it off alone, but I had very little trouble doing it. Is it possible that being almost constantly in full touch with the power has somehow made me stronger?”
“I hope it’s so, but none of us really knows,” Jovvi said as Vallant—and everyone else—groped for an answer. “We simply don’t know enough about how our abilities work, and there’s no one we can consult with about it. For now all we can do is move ahead, and hope there aren’t any pitfalls in our path that we just aren’t seeing.”
“There are enough pitfalls that we can see,” Tamrissa agreed with a sigh. “I really do have to stop borrowing trouble, not to mention asking questions that have no answers. I think I’ll take a bath instead, as soon as we get home, that is. Anyone interested in joining me?”
Vallant chuckled along with everyone else as Tamrissa looked at everyone but him. He liked it when she teased him, but somehow he sensed that her worry hadn’t disappeared entirely. Well, he didn’t blame her. His hadn’t disappeared either…
* * *
“That stupid old man!” Delin raged as soon as they were back in their residence. “Telling us what we must and mustn’t do to earn his support! Possibly he was too wrapped up in a senile snooze to notice, but we’re his only hope. Without us he’ll have a group of peasants to deal with, and he almost acted as though he would prefer that! And I’m the leader of this group! How dare he open negotiations with anyone else?”
“He do
esn’t know that you’re our leader, Delin,” Kambil replied reasonably, easing Delin’s anger a trifle. “I’m sure if he did he would have spoken to you, but it’s still a bit soon to tell him such things. He has no real need to know it yet and it’s safer for you this way, but if it makes you feel better we can always tell him this afternoon…”
“No,” Delin decided reluctantly when Kambil’s voice trailed off in a half question. “No, it’s definitely a better idea to wait. He’ll know soon enough, and I want to see his expression when he finds out. After we’re Seated, of course.”
“I don’t understand why he’s being so hard-line about this,” Bron said from where he stood, pouring himself a cup of tea. The man was completely overlooking Delin’s statement about being their leader, making no effort to challenge it. Delin had no idea why that was, but he was too relieved to question the gift. An argument with Bron was the last thing he needed right now.
“I mean, why is he insisting that we have to earn his support?” Bron asked. “It isn’t as if he has anyone else to support, so why is he forcing us to compete every day? If he loses us, he’ll be left with nothing.”
“I think I understand the plan he has in mind,” Kambil said, relaxing in the chair he’d dropped into. “We’re the last noble Blending left, so we have a certain measure of survivor-sympathy working for us with the commoners. If we compete tomorrow and the next day and win, much of that sympathy will turn to active support. We’ll have come from behind to become full contenders for the Throne, and that Zolind Maylock will be able to work with.”
“When you say ‘work with,’ do you mean manipulate on our behalf?” Homin asked, waiting behind Bron at the tea service. “If so, I hope he decides to work with us. We had no trouble at all with our opponents of today, but I think tomorrow will be a different story.”