The Invisible Hands - Part 1: Gambit (10 page)

Anaxantis pointed at the rock near the river.

“Let’s go sit there for a while. And don’t worry. It’s just talk for the moment. Mere rumors. Even if Father is indeed moving troops inland, we don’t know what he’s planning to do with them. Besides, none have arrived that we know of. Maybe they aren’t on the move yet. Whatever the case, it will at least take weeks, months for all of them to arrive at Ormidon. From there it is still a long march to our border. Even without a shred of intelligence, we’ll have timely warning.”

“You’re just going to wait?”

“No, not altogether. I asked Rullio to go investigate discreetly.”

“Rullio? I thought you two didn’t see eye to eye.”

“We don’t. We kind of tolerate each other, mainly for Ehandar’s sake. It’s the strangest thing. He’s not a bad guy. It’s just that we met at an unfortunate time, a time I felt vulnerable, a time I couldn’t afford to make mistakes. And he rubbed me the wrong way. Don’t ask me how or why, because I couldn’t explain. I just can’t bring myself to trust him.”

“Yet, of all people, you sent him on a delicate mission.”

Anaxantis looked at his friend, a self-satisfied twinkle in his eye.

8
“I think my love might have had a word with him.”

Hemarchidas looked at his friend, trying to hide how the obvious pride and confidence Anaxantis put in his brother stung. He looked at the handsome face, framed by the shiny golden hair, falling down upon his shoulders. The striking gray-blue eyes were calmly looking out again over the river.

“How young he looks. Again. After the battle it seemed he had aged ten years. It’s all gone now.”

“You’re relying on that?” he asked out loud.

Anaxantis laughed.

“Yes, that’s me. Putting all my eggs in one basket. That’s me all right.”

Hemarchidas tickled his ribs.

“Stop, stop,” the prince yelled, snickering, “You’ll make me fall in the water.”

“A cold bath would serve you right, you incorrigible tease,” the Cheridonian replied, but he stopped all the same.

“Oh, Hemarchidas, don’t fret,” Anaxantis said, straightening his tunic. “The army isn’t decommissioned and we’re still recruiting, though not as heavily as we used to. And don’t forget, even if we have to fight, we have the advantage, if not in numbers then in strategic position.

These are the Highlands. Father — Father’s generals, more likely — would literally be fighting an uphill battle.”

“You’re very confident.”

“Within reason, yes. Don’t forget, winter is coming. Except for the Northern Highway, most roads will be turned into rivers of mud. No, Father won’t be commencing major operations before spring. Not in these parts. Even then it remains to be seen whether those operations will be directed against us. You see? No reason at all to panic just yet.”

8
“It will be nice to have everyone together, though,” Hemarchidas

mused.

“Won’t it just?” Anaxantis concurred, throwing a twig in the river and following it with his eyes.

“All relaxed, no emergency, nothing to do, just—”

“Ah… I was thinking of trying to arrange some minor things, while I have everyone together.”

“I knew it,” the Cheridonian laughed. “I knew it.”

Anaxantis grinned sheepishly.

Bruonnt descended from his horse and handed the rains to a waiting soldier. He entered the hut without knocking.

“And?” the young man, who had been warming his hands at the fire in the hearth, asked.

“He’s almost unrecognizable. Not a pretty sight, and I don’t seem to be able to get rid of the smell in my nose.”

“The other thing?”

8
“Taken care of. A little bit of money goes a long way in these parts,

but we knew that already. If anybody checks, they will find everything as they would expect to find it.”

“What are the chances anybody will?”

“Slim to none, but you never know. This way, even if they’re thorough, they won’t suspect a thing. You were born and raised here, as far as the records are concerned. So was I.”

“You’re sure the scribe won’t betray us?”

“He disappeared. He won’t be found. Dead men don’t speak.”

“Was that really necessary?”

“We can’t take risks.”

“No, I suppose not,” the young man said, turning his face back to the fire.

“Another thing. The letter arrived. Those messengers are all the same. They just dump them with the public clerk. It makes sense, I suppose. A lot of people are illiterate, so they need him anyway to have it read out to them. Not to mention that it saves the messenger a lot of grief by not having to look around.”

“And us it saves a lot of trouble. Did he ask for identification?”

“No. I just gave him the name and asked if there was a letter for me. People come and go, and besides, the clerk can’t know everybody.

Certainly not if you live, like I told him I did, outside the walls. Anyway, I doubt he was interested.”

The young man looked down.

“It is arranged then?”

Bruonnt hesitated.

8
“Yes, as far as it goes,” he said. “We’ve got an appointment.” He

hesitated. ”Listen, we don’t have to go through with this. We could—”

“We’ve been over this. Again and again. We’re doing it.”

It had sounded testy, angry almost.

“I’m doing this,” he repeated, more softly.

Bruonnt sighed.

The young man looked up and smiled faintly.

“Master Dram,” Emelasuntha greeted the head of the Ormidonian chapter of the Tribe of Mekthona. “You here? In person? And you travel in style, these days. I counted a least forty companions.”

“Oh, yes, My Lady,” Ffindall Dram replied, “believe me, it was necessary. There are about ten couriers, should we need them and five living letters. The rest of them are for protection.”

The queen indicated a seat.

“Please, sit down and let us have your news.”

She herself sat down next to Sobrathi, right across from him.

8
Ffindall Dram scraped his throat.

“We found out some disquieting news, My Lady. Found out is saying much, because they’re not exactly keeping it much of a secret. Your husband is sending almost half of his troops to Ormidon.”

Emelasuntha said nothing, her face impassive while she digested the news. Sobrathi knew better than to ask questions before her friend did.

“Won’t that weaken the southern border in an almost fatal way?”

the queen asked.

“Not necessarily, My Lady,” Ffindall Dram replied. “Our agents report that the border defenses are up to par. All forts are repaired, some new ones were erected, and there is always Fort Nira of course. Impregnable, or so they tell me.”

“Nothing is impregnable, Master Dram,” the queen said, “provided you have enough money, men and time.”

Ffindall Dram nodded.

“Agreed. Still, it seems His Majesty is taking a calculated risk.

There is a second line of defense works.”

“Another string of forts? Why is this the first we hear about them?”

“Oh no, not forts, My Lady. Rivers.”

“Rivers?”

“Yes, rivers and canals. We’re still looking into the details, but it seems your husband’s engineers have designed a waterway system, that originally was meant to irrigate a series of adjacent plains and valleys. As Your Majesty knows, the soil is rather arid in those parts.”

“So?”

“The rivers there dry up regularly. It was one of the king’s pet projects to ameliorate the irrigation system. It began years ago — oh, I 8
think he was still prince regent at the time — but the task proved

rather daunting. Progress was slow and the cost prohibitive. Deflecting mountain streams, connecting rivulets, digging canals, straightening and deepening riverbeds, sluices… the lot, really. Funds were allocated when available and all these years the work continued, slowly. It was one of those eternal projects, that never drew any attention, never seemed to end and was never altogether abandoned, though at some periods work came almost to a standstill.”

“Fine. I understand that there are now some fertile valleys in the south. How does that help him defending the border?”

“As I said, My Lady, it is a quite intricate irrigation system. It can go wrong very easily. Or deliberately. They can flood a string of valleys running parallel to the border. Mind you, flooding is maybe an exaggeration. At places shallow lakes would form, at others it would make the soil soggy enough to make the going very hard for a fully equipped army.”

“I see. Still, why weaken his armed forces?”

Ffindall Dram shrugged.

“The usual, maybe? Money.”

Emelasuntha looked at Sobrathi.

“If that is the case,” the baroness said, “it’s good news. It means he will be decommissioning them.”

“Do we have any reason to suppose that is his intention?” the queen asked, following the lead of the baroness.

“No,” Dram said. “We don’t know, either way. That’s why I’m here.

That, and because there is something else complicating the situation.”

Emelasuntha raised her eyebrows. Sobrathi sat upright.

8
“The Bloody Baron may be dead, but I thought it wise to keep tabs

on what was happening at the Damydas demesne, if only to know if his sons had managed to rescue their own sons.”

“Oh yes, those poor children,” Sobrathi said. “And?”

“No news of them, but there has been some unusual activity. There was an investigation going on about the late baron’s activities. A royal investigation. Recently they closed the castle down. A detachment of three hundred soldiers is occupying it now, and the place is teeming with Black Shields. I didn’t make much of it to begin with, but taken together with the news about the troops, I’m beginning to wonder whether the two are connected somehow.”

“When did this happen?” Emelasuntha asked.

“Two weeks before the decision was taken to send almost half the army home, My Lady,” Ffindall Dram said dryly. “You can see why I thought it prudent to come myself and bring enough messengers to send whatever orders to wherever you need them being sent.”

“What are you going to do?” Sobrathi asked when they were alone again.

“For the moment nothing much. We need more information. I can’t believe, for several reasons, Tenax will be moving against Anaxantis, but we have to make sure.”

A servant knocked, and after having been given permission, entered the room. Without speaking he handed the queen a sealed parchment. Emelasuntha dismissed him with a nod, broke the seal and went over to the window to read it. Sobrathi almost exploded with impatience.

“Strange, isn’t it?” the queen mumbled. “For months we hear almost nothing and now—”

8
“Never mind all that,” the baroness interrupted her. “What does it

say?”

“Oh, this? It’s an invitation.”

“See, dear, I told you. He just needed some time to put things in order. I bet he—”

“It’s not from Anaxantis, dear. It’s from Tenax.”

“Your husband? Why?”

“He doesn’t say. He just writes he wants us to meet face to face. On neutral ground.”

“It’s a trap.”

“I don’t think so,” Emelasuntha said, reading a passage of the document over again. “If I agree, he will go to Mount Taranaq and wait there. He leaves the choice of the actual meeting place to me.”