Returning up the hill from the strand, Arianeira looked up as she drew near to the castle's outer walls, and saw the man still there against the sky. She raised her arm in a hail, and after a moment his head vanished.
When she entered her solar a few minutes later, he was waiting.
"You are out early, lady."
"And you, Kynon, must have been up betimes as well, to see my going."
He smiled. "I know your mood of late. Besides," he added, watching her narrowly, "there is news this morning, and I thought to tell you before you heard it first from another."
Her head snapped round to him, and upon her face was a look of fearing alarm. "Not Gwydion! Has aught befallen my brother? Tell me quickly!"
"Not as you mean it, lady." He activated the wallscreen. "I recorded this a little while ago; though they are talking of nothing else, and will not for some days, I am sure, I thought you would wish to see the first reports."
The screen was filled with the image of a strangely fashioned Starship, and the even tones of a bard came over the transcom link.
"--a Terran probe ship. As announced by the Taoiseach, Morwen of Lochcarron, the Terrans were formally recognized as an embassy with full diplomatic status and privileges. The probe's commander, Captain Theo Haruko, was received aboard the Firedrake by Master of Sail and High Admiral Elharn Aoibhell, acting as the personal representative of Her Majesty the Ard-rian. The Terrans, aboard their own ship, have been escorted by the Royal Destroyer Glaistig to the out-Wall quarantine station on Inishgall, where they will remain for the next three local days. From Inishgall, they will arrive at Caerdroia to be formally received by the Ard-rian in a--"
With one violent motion Arianeira cut off both screen and voice. She paced the length of the chamber and whirled around, her fists clenching and unclenching stabbing the air.
"Terrans! And my brother sends me no word! I must hear of it like any sea-crofter on the least of the Out Isles... But nay, I know well whose doing that is, and it is not my brother's--my Gwydion would not so slight his sister..." She broke off, suddenly aware that she had said perhaps overmuch in front of one who was after all merely a retainer attached to her household--however close she may have grown to him.
Kynon ignored her abrupt concealment. He knew well enough who it was that Arianeira held responsible for what she perceived as the perfidy done her by her mighty brother--from whose magical powers Kynon devoutly prayed the Princess's own sorcery shielded them both. Perhaps this was the time to put the plan before her, she who would be--if she accepted the plan as fully as she had accepted him--its prime mover. Even to his mind it was a bold and audacious enterprise, and if they were caught--well, best not to think of being caught.
He had waited nearly three years for this moment. When he had first been approached, all those months ago now, in the marketplace on Clero, the out-Wall Keltic trading planet, by a well-dressed Coranian who had turned out to be an Imperial agent, Kynon had been suspicious and skeptical of the plot proposed to him.
So much so, in fact, that at the last it had taken Jaun Akhera himself to persuade Kynon of the possibilities of success--and also the consequences of failure, as Strephon's grandson had taken pains to point out.
Kynon had never known why an Imperial agent had picked him of all Kelts to be the initial instrument in a sequence of treason that would, if it succeeded, begin with the fall of the House of Aoibhell and end with Keltia itself ceasing to exist as a free and sovereign nation. It was true enough, Kynon freely conceded, that some years ago he had been denied preference in the household of Prince Kieran, the Ard-rian's brother--there had been baseless trumped-up charges and fabricated allegations; after that, he had made his way to Gwynedd and taken service with Arianeira, who had been moping for her brother Gwydion and had cared not at all who entered her service, so long as he was attractive and amusing and could possibly distract her... Had Kynon known, subconsciously perhaps, that the Princess Arianeira was no friend to the House of Aoibhell? And had all that somehow been known to the agents of Jaun Akhera? It had been while on an errand for the Princess that Kynon had been accosted by those agents on Clero, and all the dangerous enterprise set into motion...
He shook his head. However it had been begun, it was done now. He had taken the Imperial coin, and so was guilty, in deed now as well as in thought, of the worst sin any Kelt could commit: betraying his Chief for gold. For that morning, long before Arianeira had even been awake, Kynon had spread the news of the Terrans' arrival far indeed: He had transmitted it beyond the Curtain Wall, to where an Imperial relay ship picked up his signal and sent it on to Alphor; and so it came about that Jaun Akhera learned that Keltia and Terra had met. And so Kynon had put in train the great Imperial plan; even Arianeira, if she joined him, would do it only for revenge of her imagined slights at the hands of Aeron: And perhaps those grievances were cause enough, Kynon had small knowledge of the ways of queens and their foster-sisters...
But Arianeira had this long time been busy with her own thoughts, and now her voice cut coldly across his reverie.
"Gods hear me," she said, "but I would do almost anything to rid myself of Aeron Aoibhell."
Kynon came quietly alert. "Would you indeed, lady?" he asked. "Then perhaps I may be of help to you."
*
After leaving the lounge of the Sword, Haruko had gone straight to his own cabin. There, among all his loved familiar clutter, he flung himself down on the blastcouch, kicked off his boots, and started biting his knuckles. He needed to sleep. He was too overwrought to sleep. Irritably he rolled over and smacked the caller for the medidroid; at least he could get a relaxer shot that would put him out for a couple of hours. Through the tiny port set into the wall beside his head, he saw a blaze of gold moving across stars, a wall of light: the Firedrake in turnaround, heading home.
From the preliminary information the Glaistig had given them, the big destroyer would complete her duty program in three hours; then they would begin the short sail to Inishgall. Hyperspace would not be needed; at simple lightspeed, the trip would take only two hours of ship-time, putting the Terrans in close orbit around the quarantine planetoid and depositing them on the surface just after sunset local time.
That was fine with him, decided Haruko drowsily, as the medidroid retracted its injector arm from his left bicep and the sedative began to wash over him in lovely warm waves. They'd get there just in time for dinner...
Up on the bridge, it was quiet, except for O'Reilly, who was engaged in animated conversation with the pilots of the scout sloop. This conversation was taking place in Latin, much to the disgust of Hathaway and Mikhailova, who had listened for a while, then, bored with waiting for the translations, had gone into the lounge to read or play chess with the computer.
"Sir didn't have too much to say, did he," remarked Hathaway, losing for the fourth consecutive time to the computer and packing in the program.
"Well, that Keltic captain wasn't exactly a fountain of information either. I thought the Irish loved to talk; at least that's what O'Reilly's always saying."
"Ahh, she doesn't know any more than we do."
Mikhailova jerked her head in the direction of the bridge. "By the time she's finished chatting with her new friends she will. Did you know she's got a high-speed language-learner hooked into the computer on board the Keltic destroyer? It's all so we can learn their languages before we get to their capital."
"I'm not very good with languages."
"Oh, if you can learn Chja you can learn anything." She stood up, stretching for the ceiling. "I'm starving... how long till we have to move?"
"Hour and a half," said Hathaway, who carried a clock in his head. "You better eat fast, if you want to run your checks before we get underway."
She waved a hand and vanished in the direction of the galley. Hathaway wandered over to the viewport. The voice of O'Reilly could still be heard; now she was practicing bits and pieces of newly acquired Gaeloch on the communications offi
cer aboard the destroyer.
For all his casually humorous attitude, Warren Hathaway was a disciplined, conscientious person, with a fine perception of the ridiculous and a zero tolerance for fools. He had joined the Navy some twenty years earlier, and still it had not palled. When his exemplary service record and officer's behavior profile had gotten him into the prestigious diplomatic-exploratory corps, that had been even better. So far he had participated in prime contacts with six alien races, but none of them had been a tenth as exciting as this one.
He flopped down on the longchair in front of the viewport, mulling over the scant, tantalizing information the crew had managed to pull out of Haruko and the Keltic captain Chynoweth. These people had been tearing around through space in faster-than-light ships for three thousand years... Earth herself had had hyperdrive ships, back around the time of the Colonizations, but the technology had been lost during the Wars of Empire, and it was only within the last few hundred years that there had again been Terran ships capable of travelling faster than light. How had the Kelts managed it?
Again he heard O'Reilly chatting in rapidly improving Gaeloch over the ship-to-ship communicator. Well, they'd find out soon enough, he supposed. In the meantime, maybe he should persuade O'Reilly to teach him some of that loopy-sounding language. He just might need it.
*
When Kynon finished his tale, Arianeira sat silent for a long, long moment. Then, "Jaun Akhera," she breathed. Little was known to her of the Imperial heir save his name and his reputation, but those were enough...
"So terrible an undertaking, though, Kynon; do you realize what you ask of me, who am a princess of Gwynedd?"
"Lady," said Kynon gently, "do you realize what is here for you to achieve? Not only the ridding yourself of one you hate, but the chance to be more than merely a princess of Gwynedd. And not even a Ruling Princess at that... The Throne of Scone itself will lie within your grasp, and is not that what you have coveted all your life?"
Arianeira went stock-still. "I had not thought of that," she said, and he knew she told the truth. "I thought only of Aeron removed... You are saying that once Aeron falls, I could reign here? In Jaun Akhera's name?"
He shrugged. "What matters it in whose name, so long as you are the one they bend the knee to as Queen? Doubtless you would be allowed to govern here much as you pleased, provided Keltia remained a loyal and biddable vassal state of the Imperium. But we outpace ourselves. I have taken a great risk in speaking of this to you; am I assured, then, of your cooperation?"
She did not answer him immediately but looked down, twisting a ruby ring on her finger and thinking hard. This was such a chance as would never come again, a chance to be Queen, herself alone, to be respected and feared and looked up to as she had always felt she ought to be. But could she truly destroy Aeron to achieve it? Perhaps Gwydion too, if it was necessary? With a sudden burst of irritation she realized that the ring she toyed with had itself been a gift from Aeron...
"You are," she said abruptly. "And I give you my word on it as a Ban-draoi."
Kynon was surprised, for he had had no reason to expect so swift or so solemn an assurance, but relieved also; that oath had never been broken by any woman who had so sworn--indeed, to break it would call down upon the oathbreaker the curse of the Goddess. Now in truth they were both committed.
"Then we shall begin," he said.
"How? My foster-sister may not have seen fit to summon me to her Court, but my absence from Caer Ys at such a time would scarcely go unnoticed. We--or I, at least--cannot go to him, and Jaun Akhera can hardly come here."
"He cannot come in his own person, of course," agreed Kynon. "But there are ways for him to reach into even so guarded a fortress as Aeron's Keltia--as you shall see."
"When?" She was all at once alight with an eagerness edged with fear at the enormity of it all; but now that she had put her hand to treason, best it was to begin at once, delay might cause her to reconsider.
"Presently." He smiled, well aware of her desire for haste. "This coil of the Terrans' arrival may be the best shield we could ever have hoped for. The attention of those who might otherwise be looking in our direction will now be focused otherwhere."
"But how--"
"No more for now, lady, if you please. But if you come to this room an hour past sunset tonight there will be here all the answers that you may require."
And with that Arianeira had to content herself.
*
When at the appointed hour Arianeira returned to the tower room, she was surprised to see its appearance radically altered by a maze of metal-sheathed instruments covering the top of the table which stood against the wall. Beside the big wallscreen stood a curiously fashioned contrivance; roughly cylindrical in shape, its surface was a cloudy silver covered with a fine wire mesh, into which were set crystals at regular intervals around the cylinder's circumference.
She pointed to it. "What is that, Kynon?"
"A shielder, lady," he said briefly, not looking up from his work. "In a very little time we shall be receiving a signal on a tight-focus beam from a ship far beyond the Curtain Wall. The devices you see here are to amplify and refine that beam so that it is not picked up by anyone other than ourselves. Is anyone else still about in the castle?"
"Scarcely anyone. My courtiers are all in their own chambers or else away from the castle for the evening. I have dismissed the servitors; they have all gone to a ceili in the village. Only the outer-ward guards remain."
"They'll not trouble us here..." Kynon rapidly adjusted the calibrations on the tall silver cylinder. "Hard it is with this unlawful gear to maintain a clear signal--which is why so much of it is needed--but we must not miss the transmission. And we have not." He sat back as the wallscreen glowed into life and the room filled with a low eerie hum.
She started a little at the sound. "What does that mean?"
"Naught but good--it means the signal is sent along from the relay ship. We must stand here now, lady, so that we also can be seen. Look now."
The crystal screen flared with a blue light that modulated into a remarkably clear picture. It was bright sunlight on some distant planet; they had a confused quick impression of a white-walled room and a hot climate. Then the screen filled with the face of a man: dark, chiselled, hawklike. When he saw them, he smiled.
"I salute Your Royal Highness," he said. When Arianeira remained silent, "I have the honor to address the Princess Arianeira of Gwynedd?"
"My lord," said Arianeira, recovering her poise and inclining her shining head to him, "I am likewise honored to address Jaun Akhera, Prince of Alphor and Imperial Heir."
Jaun Akhera bowed his own head, and when he raised it again his smile was gone and his eyes were keen.
"My compliments, Highness," he said. "And my compliments to you as well, Kynon, on a delicate matter brilliantly handled. At least, I so assume, else we would not be speaking now..." He turned his gaze once more on Arianeira. "For obvious reasons, lady, we must be brief, though this communication is as secure as our best techs could make it. Now, Highness, Kynon has told you of my intentions toward Keltia. What is your wish?"
"To be Keltia's Queen," said Arianeira evenly. "I will make this kingdom your loyal tributary nation, so long as I am ruler here."
Jaun Akhera's countenance, ordinarily so mobile, was as guarded now as hers, and he studied her image a moment before he spoke again. She was very beautiful, in a cold way...
"And Aeron Aoibhell?"
The answer came back without hesitation. "Her head on a spike above the gates of Caerdroia. Else there is no bargain here, and we but waste each other's time, you and I."
Jaun Akhera leaned back in his stone chair, and in his eyes now was something of the look of his grandfather.
"All this is not a hard asking, but what way do you propose to deliver Keltia to me, so that I may then deliver it to you?"
The sarcasm did not sit well with Arianeira. "My brother, of whom perhaps you may have he
ard, is First Lord of War; it should not be beyond my powers to obtain the codes to the navigation of the Curtain Wall. If I cannot, well, there are certain other ways... Once I do lower the Wall, your fleets may enter as they please. From then, what you do is your affair, as long as you leave me a kingdom over which to rule."
Jaun Akhera's expression did not change, but he drummed his fingers once on the arm of his chair.
"So. You will break the Curtain Wall, which all my best information tells me is otherwise impregnable, and my fleets sail in. I destroy Aeron's armies, and Aeron herself, and set you up as Queen. Not an easy task."
"I did not say it would be easy!" snapped Arianeira. "I said only that with my help--my help, Prince--it will be possible, and it has never been possible before. If you have a better plan, I suggest you set it out before our time runs short."
Jaun Akhera knew when to move. "I accept your terms, Highness."
"And I, yours." Arianeira drew a deep shaky breath, ruthlessly putting down a faint distant twinge of the same feeling that had assailed her earlier, a protest on so deep a level of her being as to be almost unconscious; she quashed it utterly, and it vanished at once in her growing elation and excitement.
"It is done, then. Do not attempt to speak to me again until you are prepared to lower the Curtain Wall. I will be ready to move within an hour of your word; we will arrange the area of entry, and both of you will be safely with my fleet before battle is joined--and before Aeron learns of your part in what has happened." He bowed again, more deeply than before. "Lady, farewell. I look forward to our meeting. Kynon, you have done extremely well, and you shall receive the reward of your efforts. Do not fail now."
"I will not, lord." He saluted Jaun Akhera in the Coranian manner, and the image on the screen flashed to static and then darkness.
In the suddenly silent room, Arianeira and Kynon looked at each other.
"Now it begins," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "Now will all be well."
The Copper Crown Page 8