Sephrenia was seated on one of the benches in Aphrael’s alabaster temple with the rainbow light from the impossible sky playing over her face. ‘We’d hoped that Schlee might be able to feel Cyrga when he recreated the continent, your Grace,’ she said, ‘but Cyrgon’s illusion seems to be absolute. Not even a Trollish spell can break it.’
‘What’s the best guess we can come up with?’ Bergsten asked.
Aphrael walked lightly across the tiny world Bhlokw had conjured up for them. She stepped over the minuscule city of Cynestra and continued south to a mountainous region in the center of the desert. ‘It used to be somewhere in this general vicinity,’ she said, gesturing vaguely over the mountains.
‘Used to be?’ Bergsten asked her sharply.
She shrugged. ‘Sometimes we move things.’
‘Whole cities?’
‘It’s possible – but it’s a reflection of bad planning.’
Bergsten shuddered and began marking off distances on the miniature continent with a long piece of string. ‘I’m up here at Pela,’ he told them, pointing at a spot in central Astel. ‘That’s almost three hundred leagues from the general vicinity of Cyrga, and I’ll have to stop to capture Cynestra along the way. The rest of you are much closer, so you’re going to have to hold off a bit if we all want to get there at approximately the same time.’
Aphrael shrugged. ‘I’ll tamper,’ she said.
Bergsten gave her a puzzled look.
‘Divine Aphrael has ways of compressing time and distance, your Grace,’ Sparhawk explained. ‘She can –’
‘I don’t want to hear about it, Sparhawk!’ Bergsten said sharply, putting his hands over his ears. ‘You’ve already put my soul in danger just by bringing me here. Please don’t make it any worse by telling me things I don’t need to know about.’
‘Whatever you say, your Grace,’ Sparhawk agreed.
Emban was pacing around the cluster of up-thrusting mountains in the center of the Cynesgan Desert. ‘We’re all going to be converging on these mountains,’ he said. ‘I’m no expert, but wouldn’t our best move be to just stop in the foothills and wait until everyone’s in place before we make the final assault?’
‘No, your Grace,’ Vanion said firmly. ‘Let’s stay out a bit from the foothills – at least a day’s ride. If we run into Klæl’s creatures, we’ll need room to maneuver. I want a lot of flat ground around me when that happens.’
The fat little Churchman shrugged. ‘You’re the soldier, Vanion.’ He pointed toward the south. ‘There’s our weakness,’ he said. ‘We’ve got a good concentration of forces coming out of the east, the northeast and the north, but we don’t have anybody covering the south.’
‘Or the west,’ Sarabian added.
‘I’ll cover the west, your Majesty,’ Bergsten told him. I can position my knights and the Peloi to block off that entire quadrant.’
‘That still leaves the south,’ Emban mused.
‘It’s already been taken care of, Emban,’ Aphrael assured him. ‘Stragen’s been spinning stories about a vast Church fleet off the southern coast, and I’ve been weaving illusions to back him up. How long is it going to take the Trolls to get into position north of Zhubay, Ulath?’
‘Just as long as it takes to persuade the Troll-Gods that we need their children there instead of in the Tamul mountains,’ the big Thalesian replied. ‘A day or so, probably. Once they’re convinced, they’ll put their children into No-Time. If we didn’t have to stop now and then to feed the Trolls, we could be in Zhubay before you could even blink. If I knew where Cyrga was, I could have fifteen hundred Trolls on the doorstep by morning.’
‘There’s no need to rush.’ The Child Goddess looked around with steely eyes. ‘Nobody – and I mean nobody – is going to move on Cyrga until I know that Ehlana and Alean are safe. If I have to, I can keep you running around in circles out there in that desert for generations, so don’t try to get creative on me.’
‘Is the Queen of Elenia so very important to you, Divine One?’ Betuana asked mildly. ‘War is hard, and we must accept our losses.’
‘It’s a personal matter, Betuana,’ Aphrael said shortly. ‘These are your positions.’ She gestured over the miniature continent. ‘Bergsten will come in from the north and west to cover that side of the city; Ulath, Tynian and Bhlokw will bring the Trolls down from Zhubay and join with Betuana’s Atans on their left flank; Vanion will come in from the east and be joined on his left by Kring and the Peloi; Stragen’s persuaded that disgusting Dacite in Beresa that there are a million or so Church Knights landing on the coast around Verel and Kaftal, and that should divert most of the armies of Cynesga. We’ll all converge on Cyrga. There are some discrepancies in the distances, but I’ll take care of those. When the time comes, you will all be in place – even if I have to pick you up one by one and carry you.’ She stopped abruptly. ‘What is your problem, Bergsten? Don’t laugh at me, or I’ll take you by the nose and shake you.’
‘I wasn’t laughing, Divine One,’ he assured her. ‘I was only smiling in approval. Where did you learn so much about strategy and tactics?’
‘I’ve been watching you Elenes make war since shortly after you discovered fire, your Grace. I was bound to learn a few of the tricks of the trade.’ She turned suddenly on Bhlokw. ‘What?’ she asked irritably in Trollish.
‘U-lat has said to me what you have said, Child Goddess. Why are we doing this?’
‘To punish the Wicked ones, Priest of the Troll-Gods.’
‘What?’ Sparhawk said to Ulath in stunned amazement. ‘What did she call him?’
‘Oh?’ Ulath said mildly. ‘Didn’t you know? Our shaggy friend has a certain eminence.’
‘They actually have priests?’
‘Of course. Doesn’t everybody?’
‘It is good to punish the wicked ones who have taken Anakha’s mate away,’ Bhlokw was saying, but do we need to take so many? Khwaj will punish the wicked ones. This is the season of Schlee, and we should be following the way of the hunt. The young must be fed or they will die, and that is not a good thing.’
‘Oh, dear,’ Aphrael murmured.
‘What’s happening here, Sir Ulath?’ Sarabian asked.
‘The Trolls are hunters, your Majesty,’ Ulath explained, ‘not warriors. They have no real understanding of warfare. They eat what they kill.’
Sarabian shuddered.
‘It is very moral, your Majesty,’ Ulath pointed out. ‘From a Troll’s point of view, wasting the meat is criminal.’
Aphrael was squinting at the priest of the Troll-Gods. ‘It is a good thing to do that which follows the way of the hunt and punishes the wicked ones at the same time,’ she said. ‘If we hunt this way, we will cause hurt to the wicked ones and bring much meat to the young during the season of Schlee.’
Bhlokw considered that. ‘The hunts of the man-things are not-simple,’ he said dubiously, ‘but it is my thought that the hunts of the God-things are even more not-simple.’ He reflected on it. ‘It is good, though. A hunt that gathers more than meat is a good hunt. You hunt very well, Child Goddess. Sometime we might take eat together and talk of old hunts. It is good to do this. It makes pack-mates closer so that they hunt together better.’
‘It would make me glad if we did this, Bhlokw.’
‘Then we will do it. I will kill a dog for us to eat. Dog is even more good-to-eat than pig.’
Aphrael made a slight gagging sound.
‘Will it cause anger to you if I speak to our pack-mates in bird-noises, Bhlokw?’ Sparhawk stepped in. ‘It will soon be time for the hunt to begin, and all must be made ready.’
‘It will not cause anger to me, Anakha. U-lat can say to me what you are saying.’
‘All right then,’ Sparhawk said to the rest of them. ‘We all know how we’re going to converge on Cyrga, but there are several of us who have to go in first. Please hold off on your attack until we’re in position. Don’t crowd us by trampling on our heels.’
&nb
sp; ‘Who are you taking in with you, Sparhawk?’ Vanion asked.
‘Kalten, Bevier, Talen, Xanetia and Mirtai.’
‘I don’t quite –’
Sparhawk held up one hand. ‘Aphrael made the choices, my Lord,’ he said. ‘If there are any objections, take them up with her.’
‘You have to have those people with you, sparhawk,’ Aphrael explained patiently. ‘If you don’t, you’ll fail.’
‘Whatever you say, Divine One,’ he surrendered.
‘You’ll be out in front of Berit and me then?’ Khalad asked.
Sparhawk nodded. ‘The people on the other side will expect us to trail along behind you. If we’re in front, it might confuse them – at least that’s what we’re hoping. Aphrael will take us directly to Vigayo and we’ll nose around a bit. If the fellow with the next message is already there, Xanetia should be able to pick up your new destination. Sooner or later, somebody’s going to have to give you the key to the illusion that’s hiding Cyrga, and that’s the one piece of information we have to have. Once we’ve got that, the rest is easy.’
‘I like his definition of easy,’ Caalador murmured to Stragen.
Emban jotted another note on his inevitable list. Then he cleared his throat.
‘Must you, Emban?’ Bergsten sighed.
‘It helps me to think, Bergsten, and it makes sure that we haven’t left anything out. If it bores you so much, don’t listen.’
‘The man-things talk much when they decide how they will hunt, U-lat,’ Bhlokw complained.
‘It is the nature of the man-things to do this.’
‘It is because the hunts of the man-things are too much not-simple. It is my thought that their hunts are not-simple because they do not eat the ones they kill. They hunt and kill for reasons which I do not understand. It is my thought that this thing the man-things call “war” is a very great wickedness.’
‘It is not in our thought to cause anger to the priest of the Troll-Gods,’ Patriarch Bergsten said in flawless Trollish. ‘The thing which the man-things call war is like the thing which happens when two Troll-packs come to hunt on the same range.’
Bhlokw considered that. Then he grunted as comprehension came over his shaggy face. ‘Now it is clear to me,’ he said. ‘This thing the man-things call “war” is like the hunting of thought. That is why it is not-simple. But you still talk much,’ The Troll squinted at Emban. ‘That one is the worst,’ he added. ‘His mind-belly is as big as his belly-belly.’
‘What did he say?’ Emban asked curiously.
‘It wouldn’t translate very well, your Grace,’ Ulath replied blandly.
Patriarch Emban gave him a slightly suspicious look and then meticulously laid out their deployment once again, checking items off his list as he went. When he had finished, he looked around. ‘Can anybody think of anything else?’
‘Perhaps,’ Sephrenia said, frowning slightly. ‘Our enemies know that Berit’s not really Sparhawk, but they’re going to think that Sparhawk won’t have any choice but to follow along behind. It might help to confirm that belief. I think I know a way to duplicate the sound and sense of Bhelliom. If it works, our enemies will think that Sparhawk’s somewhere in the column of knights Vanion’s going to lead out into the desert. They’ll concentrate on us rather than looking for him.’
‘You’re putting yourself in danger, Sephrenia,’ Aphrael objected.
‘There’s nothing particularly new about that.’ Sephrenia smiled. ‘And when you consider what we’re trying to do, no place is really safe.’
‘Is that it, then?’ Engessa asked, standing up.
‘Probably, friend Engessa,’ Kring replied, ‘except for the hour or so we’ll all spend telling each other to be careful.’
Engessa squared his shoulders, turned and faced his Queen directly. ‘What are your orders, Betuana-Queen,’ he asked her with military formality.
She drew herself up with a regal stiffness. ‘It is our instruction that you return with us to Sarna, Engessa-Atan. There you will resume command of our armies.’
‘It shall be as you say, Betuana-Queen.’
‘Directly upon our return, you will send runners to my husband, the king. Tell him that there is no longer a threat to Tosa. The Shining Ones will deal with Scarpa.’
He nodded stiffly.
‘Further, tell him that I have need of his forces in Sarna. That is where we will prepare for the main battle, and he should be there to take command.’ She paused. ‘This is not because we are dissatisfied with your leadership, Engessa-Atan, but Androl is the king. You have served well. The royal house of Atan is grateful.’
‘It is my duty, Betuana-Queen,’ he replied, clashing his fist against his breastplate in salute. ‘No gratitude is necessary.’
‘Oh, dear,’ Aphrael murmured.
‘What’s wrong?’ Sephrenia asked her.
‘Nothing.’
Chapter 22
‘It’s definitely Chacole and Torellia, Sarabian,’ Elysoun insisted several days later. ‘Chacole’s more or less running things. She’s older and shrewder. The strangers usually go directly to her. They talk privately for a while, and then she sends for Torellia. They weren’t really all that fond of each other before, but now they’ve got their heads together all the time.’
‘They’re probably getting orders from home,’ Sarabian mused. ‘King Jaluah of Cynesga is Chacole’s brother, and Torellia’s the daughter of King Rakya of Arjuna. Can you get any sense at all of what they might be up to?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s too early.’
‘Early?’
‘Women’s politics again. We’re more devious than men. Chacole will want everything in place before she starts to form other alliances. She’s got Torellia under control, but she’s not quite ready to start trying to expand yet.’
‘You’re sure that Torellia’s the subordinate one?’
She nodded. ‘Chacole’s servants are lording it over hers. That’s the first sign of dominance in the Women’s Palace. Cieronna’s servants are all insufferable because she’s the first wife, and we’re all subordinate to her – except for Liatris, of course.’
‘Of course,’ Sarabian smiled. ‘No one in his right mind is impertinent to Liatris. Has she killed anybody lately?’
‘Not since she butchered Cieronna’s footman last year.’
‘There’s a thought. Should we bring Liatris into this?’
Elysoun shook her head. ‘Maybe later, but not at this stage. Atana Liatris is too direct. If I approached her with this, she’d simply kill Chacole and Torellia. Let’s wait until Chacole approaches me before we involve Liatris.’
‘Are you sure Chacole will approach you?’
‘It’s almost certain. My servants have greater freedom of movement than hers – because of my social activities.’
‘That’s a delicate way to put it.’
‘You knew I was a Valesian when you married me, Sarabian, and you know about our customs. That’s why my servants have the run of the compound. It’s always been a tradition.’
He sighed. ‘How many are there currently, Elysoun?’
‘None, actually.’ She smiled at him. ‘You don’t really understand, do you, Sarabian? The biggest part of the fun of those little adventures has always been the intrigue, and I’m getting plenty of that playing politics.’
‘Aren’t you feeling a little – deprived?’
‘I can endure it,’ she shrugged, ‘and if I get desperate, I always have you to fall back on, don’t I?’ and she gave him an arch little smile.
‘Wal, sir, Master Valash,’ Caalador drawled, leaning back in his chair in the cluttered loft, ‘ol’ Vymer here, he done tole me that yer a’ willin’ t’ pay good money fer infermation, an’ he sorta figgered ez how y’ might want t’ hear ‘bout the stuff I seen in southwest Atan fer yer very ownself.’
‘You two have known each other for quite some time then?’ Valash asked.
‘Oh, gorsh yes, Master Valash.
Me’n Vymer goes way back. We wuz all t’gether durin’ that fracas in Matherion – him an’ me an’ Fron an’ Reldin – along with a couple others – when the fellers from Interior come a-bustin’ in on us. They wuz hull bunches o’ excitement that night, let me tell yew. Anyway, after we shuck off the po-lice, we all split up an’ scattered t’ th’ winds. Tain’t a real good idee t’ stay all bunched up whin yer a-runnin’ from th’ law.’
Stragen sat back from the table out of the circle of light from the single candle, carefully watching Valash’s face. Caalador had just arrived to replace Sparhawk and Talen in the on-going deception of Valash, and Stragen was once again impressed by how smooth his friend really was. Valash seemed lulled by the easy, folksy charm of Caalador’s dialect. Stragen despised the slovenly speech, but he was forced to admit its utility. It always seemed so genuine, so innocently artless.
‘Where is Fron, anyway?’ Valash asked.
‘Him an’ Reldin tuk off ‘bout a week ago,’ Caalador shrugged. ‘I happened t’ stop off in a tavern up in Delo whilst I wuz a-comin’ on down yere, an’ they wuz a feller what had “policeman” wrote all over him who wuz describin’ ol’ Fron an’ the boy right down t’ th’ warts. Soon’s I got yere, I tole ‘em ‘bout it, an’ they figgered that it might just be time t’ move on. Anyhow, Vymer here sez as how yer innerested in whut’s a-goin’ on here an’ thar, an’ I seen a few things after we all got run outta Matherion that he’s a-thankin’ might be worth somethin’ to ya.’
‘I’ll certainly listen, Ezek.’ Valash raised his head sharply as the comatose Ogerajin began to mumble in his sleep.
‘Is he all right?’ Stragen asked.
‘It’s nothing,’ Valash said shortly. ‘He does that all the time. Go ahead, Ezek.’
‘Wal, sir, she wuz a couple weeks ago, I guess, an’ I wuz a-hot-footin’ it across Atan, figgerin’ t’ make m’ way on acrost Astel t’ Darsos – on accounta the law bein’ hot on m’ heels an’ all. I wuz a-comin’ on down outten th’ mountings when I pult up short, cuz I seen more gol-dang Atans than I thought they wuz in the hull world – I mean, they wint on fer miles! They wuz multitudes o’ them big rascals – all geared up fer war an a-lookin’ real mean an’ on-friendly-like.’