Read Markan Empire Page 6


  Marcus wagged an admonitory finger. "No deaths. Nobody wants that. If rumors start, we tell some version of the truth. Keep your ear to the ground."

  Fynn bowed. "As you command, Majesty." He turned to leave. "Come Smudge, we have work."

  After one glance at Jenn, the other sylph ended her conversation, inclined her head to Marcus, and trotted after Fynn.

  "What was that all about?" asked Marcus.

  "Just chitchat." The position of Jenn's earpoints showed she knew Smudge's chat had been a diversion to stop her overhearing the humans' discussion, but she wisely kept questions to herself.

  Marcus nodded. "I know where there's some choca."

  Jenn's earpoints twitched fully upright and a smile spread across her face. "So do I," she said.

  ***

  Tired and irritable, Grayar scowled at Sandev's desk and ignored the gurgling clepsydra. Often short-tempered, he had a reputation for grumpiness, except towards sylphs, but the tiredness was new. He had not yet fully recovered from carting an army across hundreds of milas to defeat Hingast. Despite using an aid that should no longer exist, the effort had drained him. If not for the foci, he would likely be dead.

  Stanak stood beside him. His employer had disappeared to the Father-knew-where, presumably a captive. If he worried for her safety, nothing showed in his gray-blue eyes. Always calm and unfazed, certainly much calmer than Sandev's two sylphs.

  Sandev only acquired Janin recently, after his life had been threatened. Grayar had never known her to be charitable when it came to unowned sylphs, but he supposed she must have a reason for this one. Either way, he had spent most of his time in scout training and had barely bonded with his mistress. Even so, even the most dullwitted could see his worry. He continued his scout training, which at least helped keep his mind occupied.

  Unlike Caya. Grayar and Stanak did their best to keep the female sylph busy and working to her usual routine, but she had bonded with her owner. Despite her initial hostility towards Janin, she had drawn closer to him during the winter months. Driven by terror that she would never see Sandev again, she now missed his company whenever he attended his training.

  Janin rapidly approached the age when he should marry, but Caya had already rebuffed him. Caya claimed to be wed to her role looking after Sandev, and suggested he should look elsewhere for a wife.

  Grayar expected sulks from Janin, but the male sylph had held up quite well and continued to offer Caya moral support.

  There were two more sylphs in Sandev's villa.

  Salu belonged to Grayar. She offered comfort to Sandev's sylphs but trod carefully. Sandev's two were breeders and Salu only an infertile, of much lower status. A whole decade older than Caya and almost a quarter century older than Janin, she must still step warily around the two of them. Luckily for her, tact and diplomacy came easily.

  The fourth sylph in the villa concerned Grayar most. The ownerless Tangan troubled him. Grayar had never met the sylph before the previous fall, but he knew the boy's name. A name "more or less" granted to him by his mother. Grayar feared the sylph lied about that; perhaps he was unable to be completely honest. A worrying thought. Something had been done to this sylph and Grayar suspected it involved Nicolfer's sorcery. He must find out what.

  Sadly, the books lining the walls were of no use.

  Tangan squatted in one corner, arms wrapped around his knees, staring at the floor and apparently unaware of the unease his presence caused.

  Grayar glanced at Stanak. The bodyguard had been with Grayar when they found Tangan, but he had no idea why Grayar stepped around the boy so warily. For that matter, he didn't understand why the other three sylphs avoided Tangan either. His main concern centered on Sandev's return.

  Dervra and Nicolfer held Sandev. Stanak deserved to know the truth about these two and Grayar plugged the gaps in the man's knowledge. Sandev had told him that these two were among the ten humans originally granted the Gift by the Father, and that they had betrayed their companions and the deity who had offered shelter.

  He knew that, but before Grayar educated him, Stanak had not known the full story. Those two were the enemies of Sandev and Grayar.

  Stanak felt no happier, but he didn't want to give up either, which was another of his good points.

  "We've done little since midwinter," said Stanak, looking at Tangan. "That boy's been useless; enslave him or send him to the sales block."

  Eyes expressionless, Tangan lifted his head and twitched his earpoints.

  Grayar grimaced. "What would you have us do? We must discover where Nicolfer and Dervra are hiding themselves before I – we – can move against them. And the boy stays."

  The sound of clattering pots through the open door betrayed the presence of Caya and Salu, preparing the midday meal.

  "Anything could have happened." Stanak lowered his voice. Just because the sylphs clattered pots, it did not mean they weren't eavesdropping. "She might even be dead."

  "No!" Sharper than intended, Grayar immediately moderated his tone. "Not that. She is basically unharmed."

  Stanak's eyes were as steel. "How do you know?"

  "I believe it."

  "That's only what you want to believe."

  "You want me to believe I'm chasing a corpse?" Grayar snapped, and immediately wished the words back.

  Taller than Grayar, Caya stood in the doorway, bearing a tray with two steaming bowls of gruel and an alovak can. As Grayar spoke, her silver-gray eyes brimmed with tears, her face crumpled in grief and her long earpoints tucked away completely.

  Stanak moved quickly to relieve the sylph of her burden, while Grayar spoke to reassure her.

  "She's still alive," he said softly, massaging one of the sylphs hands between his own. "We will find her."

  Caya nodded, but said nothing. Pulling her hand free, she fled from the room. Embarrassed, both men looked at each other.

  "This is what it's come to," growled Stanak. "Her would-be rescuers squabbling like gulls over food."

  Grayar nodded at the unspoken apology. "We must locate Dervra and Nicolfer. They work together, so I doubt if they're far apart right now." He glanced down at Tangan, as if the sylph might lead them to their prey. "And it's time to check your health, young man. How are you feeling?"

  Tangan stared back up at the silver-haired old man. "I am well, donenya," he replied.

  Grayar heard Stanak sigh. He hoped the man wouldn't grow too impatient. He wanted Sandev back as much as anyone else, but they could not move until the proper time.

  Grayar suspected Sandev had her own plans.

  ***

  General Kelanus Butros met Marcus Vintner outside the map room. The would-be Emperor was at least punctual. Kelanus blinked in surprise when he saw Jenn heeling her owner; he had not expected the sylph.

  "Shall we go inside?" Marcus smiled.

  Kelanus started. "Of course."

  They went into the map room together. Apart from one candle lantern that had nearly burned out, the room was in darkness.

  "Light crystals, Jenn," suggested Marcus.

  "Se bata."

  The infertile walked around the room uncovering the crystals, starting with the table in the center.

  "Have you shared your concerns with Zenepha?" asked Marcus.

  "Not since the meeting," replied Kelanus.

  "Mikhan?"

  Kelanus grimaced. Once, he had served under Mikhan Annada; once, they had been friends. Perhaps they still were, despite everything that had happened since.

  "No," he replied. "Zenepha is too much in Mikhan's hand and Mikhan works hard to keep you off the Throne."

  "Just you and me then." Marcus smiled.

  Both men could now see the detailed map spread across the table. The flags marking known and estimated positions of the soldiers were exactly as they had left them that morning.

  Jenn stood by the door, listening. She nodded to her owner.

  Kelanus crossed to one of the smaller scale maps hung on the wall,
this one showing Marka and its immediate surroundings. He used the stem of his pipe to tap several places.

  "Why are you looking at that?" asked Marcus. "The battles will be fought out here." He gestured to the table.

  Kelanus shook his head. "Thousands of men are out there – more if we include Mirrin's mob out west – who show no inclination to go home. They are coordinated and controlled. They are waiting."

  Marcus nodded. "If they combine, they will fall on Sandester. Or Trenvera. Or even Calcan."

  Kelanus almost smiled. "The target is Marka."

  "You sound certain."

  "Because I am. Re Taura."

  "What about it?"

  Kelanus drew deeply on his pipe before exhaling a long streamer of gray-blue bacca smoke. "The Eldovan commander wants us to react to that threat. If we don't, he'll force action. Sandester is his likeliest target; it's harder to reach Trenvera or Calcan from the north. Wherever, so long as we react and send our forces. Or even if Mikhan decides to take them home. The Eldovans are conveniently pointed toward Sandester."

  "Why?"

  "They might know more about the Sandesterans here than we do."

  "Your point being?"

  "Zenepha is in Mikhan's hand, in military matters at least. I suspect Mikhan still gets his orders from Sandester."

  "Nazvasta?" Marcus scowled as he spoke.

  "Nazvasta. He wants you nowhere near the Throne. He would far rather see Zenepha hold it until death than let you take it."

  "Thank you for the reminder. What about Re Taura?"

  "A diversion. My hunch is that Trenvera is Re Taura's target. Not easy for us to send soldiers there, unless the Trenverans ask nicely. Diplomacy takes time, but the army will be out of Marka." Kelanus smiled as he lit a taper from the candle lantern and relit his pipe. "But the Throne here is the target."

  "Oh?"

  "The Eldovans may or may not have territorial ambitions in the north, but what's the point in seizing lands there when Marka can so easily cut them off from Eldova itself?"

  "The Re Taurans might want the Throne."

  "Maybe they do." Satisfied his pipe was drawing properly again, Kelanus took a few draws. Jenn sneezed as the fresh pipesmoke tickled her nostrils. "They'll never reach it though."

  "The Eldovans nearly succeeded last year."

  "To get here, the Eldovans crossed lands that are either empty, in chaos or indifferent towards Marka. The Re Taurans must cross territory that will be at least passively hostile. Their supply lines will stretch and be susceptible to attacks. They must resupply from overseas and their ships will be at risk from us and probably also Sandester."

  Jenn watched both men from her position by the door and rubbed her nose, trying to rid it of the bacca smoke's stench.

  "Even so, we cannot abandon Sandester or Calcan. Neither can we afford to lose Trenvera to a third party. It would throw the east into total chaos." Marcus grimaced.

  "I suspect that's the intention. But we must look first to Marka. We can drive the Eldovans away; that must remain our first priority. Even if the Re Taurans occupy lands to the east, the Eldovans must be dealt with first." Kelanus's eyes flashed. "We can drive Re Taura out at leisure afterwards. If they come."

  "We have people on the ground in Re Taura," said Marcus. "They'll discover the truth or otherwise."

  "The rumors will probably prove true." Kelanus smiled. "But whatever the Re Taurans do is nothing more than a diversion."

  "What's in it for Re Taura? Assuming they have allied themselves with Eldova."

  Kelanus shrugged. "The lucrative trade in the Bay of Plenty and perhaps some mainland territory."

  "Supposition."

  "True." Kelanus nodded agreement. "But suppose you're Janost, what would you do?"

  Marcus glanced at the large map on the table. "Drive a wedge between Marka and the Vintner lands. Then drive a wedge between Sandester and Calcan. Or the other way around."

  "The wedge between Sandester and Calcan first is the better way round." Kelanus tapped the wall map again. "But the Eldovans themselves cannot work it that way around because of Marka."

  "But this is supposition." Marcus's smile was thin.

  "Indeed. But the Throne is here. That is the Eldovans' objective. First, entice troops away from Marka by having an ally drive a wedge between the Vintner lands by invading Trenvera. Then, divide Marka from the Vintner lands by falling on the city from the north. Add pressure by falling on the city from the west." He stroked his pipestem against the Candin Plain, the scene of Marcus's decisive victory the previous year. A gentle reminder of who had ensured that victory.

  "I see. Any evidence to support this theory?"

  "Only by omission." The pipestem moved slowly around to the west of the city. "Anybody in western Outer Marka? Or Finnan, in Dras or Elas? Senda?"

  "Of course not. General Mirrin is much further west than that. Detachments are trailing him. What are you getting at?"

  "Local militia aside, our entire western march is unprotected. Why haven't the Eldovans gone home? Eldovans to the north and west, Re Taurans to the east. We can't fight everybody at once. They encircle us, but we must deal with the Eldovans first, even if the Re Taurans land." A finger tapped the map to emphasize each word.

  Marcus stroked his chin. "Might the Imperial Republic be involved as well?"

  Kelanus considered for a moment. "Unlikely. The Imperial Republic is far away and Enthan too engrossed with the south. He would never ally with Eldova unless his claim is the one to be pressed. But I don't see anyone in Eldova going along with that."

  Marcus raised an eyebrow. "A bit like Sandester and Calcan."

  Kelanus laughed. "Something like that."

  "Still conjecture," insisted Marcus.

  "Informed guesswork," agreed Kelanus. "But my outline, Marcus Vintner, is pretty much what I expect Marshal Janost to do."

  "And what would you do to counter it?"

  Kelanus grinned. "What nobody would expect me to do."

  A small smile turned the corners of Marcus's mouth. "The Emperor is sending Kestan north to harry the Eldovans. Is that enough?"

  "Perhaps not."

  Marcus continued. "He told me this afternoon that we must reinforce Calcan and Sandester. The army we send should hover near the border with Trenvera. He wants you to command that flank."

  "I'm not convinced it's needed."

  "Should you decide to defy the Emperor's orders, I hope your analysis of the situation is better than Mikhan's. I'll not be able to save you this time." Marcus smiled. "Don't tell me your decision; it's between you and your conscience."

  Kelanus smiled. "I will see you at tomorrow's meeting."

  Marcus barely acknowledged the General's departure. He stared at the large-scale map and again assessed the positions of the flags. In his mind's eye, he repositioned some of the blue flags and added fresh ones to represent Re Taura attacking Trenvera. He saw the army driven from Marka, fleeing south and east, heading for Calcan because that was the only way out. He shivered when he realized that the repositioned enemy could now wheel around and fall on Calcan. There would be nowhere left to go. Vintner power smashed and Marka captured. Kelanus had seen it and Marcus could accept the possibility of it. He shook his head.

  "What do you think, Jenn? And don't tell me you're just a sylph."

  Jenn changed what she had been about to say. "You should listen to him, enya."

  Marcus nodded to himself. "Why oh why did Branad ever let you go?" he whispered.

  ***

  Melnea, more familiarly known as Cloudy, leaned against Flying Cloud's bulwark and stared morosely at the narrow strip of dirty water below. She should be thinking about the proposal put forward to her and Captain Liffen, but she worried instead about the red tea stored in the warehouse. Brought back from Emplar for the winter, it had not sold as well this year. Cloudy feared a small trading loss on the last trip. And add to that the cost of a new ship...

  With a small smile, she g
lanced outboard to her identical sister-ship, Velvet Moon. This one did not wear the horizontal gold-green-gold striped ensign of Marka, but the vertical black-white-black stripes of Hejiller. Black and white streamers looked prettier than green and gold ones.

  Cloudy shook her head. She was not supposed to be thinking about bunting for the mastheads, either.

  Velvet Moon and Flying Cloud had planned to travel together for this first season, then winter in their respective homeports. Sometimes plans must change and it now looked as if they would travel in company for part of the first trading trip only. The relatively inexperienced Velvet Moon had a great deal to master, despite the obvious intelligence of both sylph and ship.

  As for the proposal, the ship remained ominously silent.

  To sail to Re Taura and stay there in case Imperial agents needed to escape. Through Cloudy, the ship had asked for those agents' names, so she could tell when or if they approached.

  The proposer had demanded an acceptance of the commission before he would divulge names, warning that careless talk cost lives.

  The answer impressed neither sylph nor ship and the ship's initial reaction was to refuse the commission.

  Cloudy glanced at the ensign now flying from the stern. Not as impressive as the old Trading Council's ensign of two black anchors, crossed and fouled on a gold field. Nor as impressive as the Imperial Ensign of a gold eagle in flight on a black field, which the ship would wear if she accepted the commission. Certainly more impressive than that she wore now. The streamers for the peak of each mast would look more impressive in black and gold.

  Small matters. The ship spoke directly into her mind with a gentle rebuke for her continued concern over bunting. I still say no.

  The money is good, retorted the sylph. The Father knows we need that.

  The silent conversation came to an abrupt end as Liffen's large hand closed on Cloudy's shoulder. "He wants an answer."

  "It will be awkward; we already have the cargo for Beshar aboard."

  Liffen winced. "We can sail in company as far as Beshar, offload there, collect the rum and sail back."

  "What about Velvet Moon? She does not know the route."

  Liffen smiled. "We'll swap Sedaro and Raldtu with their opposite numbers, and some of the crew. They'll be fine."

  "The ship still says no," said Cloudy.

  "Then come below and tell him."

  Cloudy steeled herself. She didn't want to face the man with the flat brown eyes and devil-may-care attitude. A local man named Jeckon, and some sort of minion for the Trading Council, always fishing for information about events in other lands.