Moth and Spark (10 page)

Corin decided to change the subject. “Marshal,” he said, “have we a way to sink the Argondian ships before the Sarians get hold of them?”

“We have a way, my lord. I don’t know if we have time. Our best chance is to hope the Argondians think of it themselves.”

“That’s not good enough. We have to send men and messages.”

“The Argondian coastline is nearly five hundred miles long and they have half as many ships. We haven’t the men. Even if we could destroy all the naval vessels, there are merchant ships and fishing boats.”

“We have to do what we can,” Corin said. “The Sarians are no sailors, and you can’t put several hundred soldiers on a fishing boat. If it’s
difficult enough they’ll give up.” Of course dragons could destroy the ships quite easily. He hoped no one thought of that.
The dragons are all in the north, spying on us.
That would stir them up right enough.

The door opened. The men all turned toward the sound; there was no one expected, and a guard was supposed to prevent such interruptions. The guard put his head in, and Corin, who knew him, could see that he was panicky. “Sir,” he said, in a strangled sort of voice, “a dragonrider.” It was not a place anyone would want to be, between a dragonrider and the king. Well, the lords had wished for dragons, now they had one.

“Let him in,” Aram said.

The room was as quiet as it could be. The dragonrider’s boots were loud on the floor. He did not have his helmet. He wore scuffed leather flying clothes, damp from the rain, and there was dark stubble on his cheeks and chin. His fingertips were stained a permanent yellowish-brown from sulfur. He had not removed his sword, which almost made Corin rise to his feet; Hadon used his riders as emissaries, but they were extraordinary swordsmen as well.

He came directly to Aram, bent his head cursorily, and held out a narrow package in red paper. That meant Hadon considered it crucial. Aram took it and said, “Is there a spoken?”

“No.” He sounded almost scornful.

Corin felt the hostility around the table increase. No one liked the dragonriders—they were arrogant men who thought themselves well above the level of ordinary folk of any rank, and who had the standing of lords in the Mycenean court—but this one seemed particularly disrespectful. Corin did not look at his father’s face as he unfolded the letter, but rather at his hands. They did not give anything away.

The king read quickly, then said, “There will be no written reply. Tell my liege that I hear him and obey him unchangingly. You may return to your master.”

That was an insult, and Corin wondered if even his father could get away with it. The dragonrider scowled, then bent his head again stiffly, turned, and was gone.

Aram said, “Council is adjourned. We’ll reconvene later. Prince Corin, a word.”

His manner was steady. It was unlikely to fool anyone. Nothing broke up councils. If the news were good he would not be keeping it to
himself. The council members stood up, the sound of their chairs pushing back loud and rough. Some of the men tried to linger. Corin said sharply, “If he wanted you, he’d say so. Go on.” He herded them toward the door. No one objected. He said to the guard, “Keep everyone out,” and shut the door hard before the guard could even acknowledge the command.

Furiously, Aram shoved the letter at him and said, “Read this.”

Corin took it and sat. It was couched in formal language—Mycenean, of course—and included every one of the Emperor’s titles. He skipped the verbiage with a sinking feeling and got to the meat of the message:

Our generals have taken your request for troops and are considering how best to fulfill it. You must be cognizant, however, that the time for Tyrekh’s soldiers to cross Argondy may be considerably less than the time required for sufficient Mycenean soldiers to assist you to come north. We advise you to prepare defenses accordingly. 

In light of the dangers of the Sarians, we have taken the liberty of offering the hospitality and shelter of the court to the Princess Tai, and she has most graciously accepted.

Corin felt his blood drain. His sister, his clever sister, with the strong quick hands that could fly over a piano, her brow furrowed as she played. His little sister whom he still called
mouse
. He said, “I will kill him.” His voice shook with rage. His hand was on his knife hilt. He found himself standing.

“Sit down, Corin,” Aram said, almost gently. He had regained his bearing. “You’ll have your chance. We will get her out of there, don’t worry.”

“You don’t believe him, do you?” he demanded. Tai would never go like that, she was a hostage. Hadon had turned on them.

“Of course not. But he’s not going to kill her.”

“Why do you think that?”

“If he kills her his other vassals will rise up against him, and he can’t afford it. The Empire is cracking. And I’ve known the man for forty years. He bluffs.”

“Tai’s life is a hell of a thing to call it on. Are you—” He stopped
before he said something unforgivable. Without looking at his father, he went to the window, stared out at the calming greyness. Aram said nothing. He took a few deep breaths. His father would not risk Tai. She was a splendid archer, with a fine draw and a sharp eye and the ability to be distracted by nothing. She would approach this the same way. He had to be that steady too. It did not escape him that he was still a young man, one who had been protected from loss and pain. If loss was coming, he had to face it instead of relying on the luxury of temper.

Sitting back down, he said, “I’m sorry. I’m ready.”

“The first thing is not to let anyone know yet about it. I’ll send to Ader, of course, we have to know what else happened. There’s probably a messenger killing his horses to get here already, it shouldn’t take long to find out.”

“Will you tell Ellid?” Corin asked.

“I shall have to,” Aram said. “He’ll never forgive me if I don’t. But no one outside the family. You’ll have to pretend there is nothing the matter, can you?”

“Yes. What about Gerod?”

The king shook his head. “Not even him. If he knows he’ll take some action that gives it away. All I will tell the lords is what Hadon said about the troops.”

“Don’t you trust them?” he asked, even as he tallied his own doubts. He was sure no one on the council would betray them to the Sarians, but he was less sure they would all stand fast against the Emperor. He was the overlord, after all, they would not even need to convince themselves they were not traitors.

“I don’t trust them not to force me to do something stupid,” Aram said.

“They’ll know what it means about the troops as well as you and I do. Especially since—” He cut himself off.

“Since what?”

Reluctantly, he said, “Since you sent them all away. They know there’s more to it.”

“Leave that to me,” Aram said. Corin reminded himself that his father had been king for more than three decades and knew his lords.

He was unable to be so calm himself, though. “Hadon can’t expect us to believe this letter, why did he send it?”

“He may. Wouldn’t you rather have her there than along the path of Tyrekh’s soldiers? That’s how he’s thinking. He’s quite correct about the time it takes to move troops. He may even be telling the truth.”

“You can’t mean that, not when he took her. Not when he’s got his dragons watching us.”

“Corin,” Aram said, an edge to his tone.

“He doesn’t even give us numbers,” he said, frustrated.

“No. And I’ll let the council chew over that as long as they want to. But he’s not disclaiming suzerainty or ordering us to submit, so we have to act as though he is our lord. Listen, Corin, what happens to him if he sends a hundred thousand men here to hold off Tyrekh?”

“Kynos and Theron,” he said immediately. He should have thought of them at once, but he hardly needed a lesson. Hadon’s two sons were vicious, power-hungry, and getting impatient. Spies reported that they all three played each other double. That kept the power even, but if one of them gathered or lost an edge it would shift. If Hadon sent his best men north he would have no defenses against his sons. Three years ago, neither of them had any substantial backing. Now they both did.

“Exactly. Bad as he is, I’d rather have Hadon over me than either of those two.”

“That won’t make much difference if Tyrekh comes in. He’s worse than any of them.”

Aram said, “Yes. And if the cost of pushing back Tyrekh is having one of the princes as Emperor, I’ll take it. But look where Hadon is. If he defends us, he is overthrown. If he cuts us loose, that might turn his other vassals against him. Once they see he doesn’t honor his obligations they’ll break away and he’ll lose his power anyway. He’s in a tight spot, he’s stalling. There’s not much we can do about it. But if we turn against him before he openly turns against us, we lose any chance of support. He may yet decide it’s better to send soldiers here than have the rest of the Empire crash around him. I don’t want to make his decision for him.”

Corin stood up again and paced the length of the table and back. His father was right about the politics hemming the Emperor in. But something about it didn’t fit. Why were the dragons surveying the north? And why on earth had he taken Tai? It was an entirely unnecessary provocation. What did he think to keep them from doing?

Another, grimmer, possibility occurred to him. “You don’t suppose he’s made some sort of deal with Tyrekh, do you? Hand us over to buy time?” It made a twisted sort of logic from where the Emperor stood. Give away the small country of little value to him while he built his army, and then swoop down on Tyrekh in three or four years and take possession of all the kingdoms Tyrekh held. It would increase the size of the Empire by half with very little work.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Aram said. “There’d be no point in taking her, though, if he had. If there’s any dealing between Mycene and the Sarians, it’s probably the princes.”

That was an even more unpleasant thought. Corin wanted to kick something, hard. Instead he said, “So we kneel before him as we have and hope he’s not the executioner. But what about her?”

“Well,” said Aram, and halted. “The problem is one of timing. I have a sufficient number of men in Hadon’s court who have some power or command to get her out of sight quickly. But if it happens too soon, he will decide to wash his hands of us immediately. Hostage-taking works two ways. He expects something of us. I want to know what it is.”

“Wait a minute,” Corin said. He knew there were spies in the Imperial Court, he had read the reports often enough. But courtiers were not going to be able to walk away with a hostage princess. Nor were they really trustworthy enough; anyone who spied for money could be bought by someone else. “You’re not telling me that any of Hadon’s lords would risk their position in the Empire to rescue her for us.”

“No. I haven’t managed that yet.” Aram smiled ironically. “But it’s not difficult to suborn soldiers who serve under a coward.”

Soldiers. It wouldn’t be foot soldiers either. “Who?”

“Alcias.”

“Alcias?” Corin said, incredulous. The man was Hadon’s second general. “What could you offer him that would make it worth it for him to abandon Hadon? He probably has more power than you.” That was a rash thing to say, even for him, and he prepared himself for a reprimand.

Aram said, “
Suborn
may have been too strong a word. I haven’t done anything to suggest that either he or I would turn against Hadon. But I have better spies, and he knows it, and he owes me. It’s time to call it in.”

“That is a dangerous game,” Corin said. “How long have you been playing it?”

“Why do you think I haven’t told you? Since we saw what Tyrekh was capable of.”

“I don’t need to be protected,” he said fiercely. He rubbed his forehead. “You sound as if you have been expecting him to abandon us.”

“Expecting, no,” Aram said. “But I’m unsurprised. Men who seek power eventually overreach themselves, you know that. One always wants to have some leverage against them. If not against him, his sons.”

Corin went to the window again. In this oldest part of the palace, the roofs were slate, streaky now with rain. The pigeons sat on the ridgepoles with their feathers ruffled to dry. In the courtyard immediately below him a message boy was hurrying across, the tails of his shirt billowing in the wind. A thought snatched at his mind and was gone before there were words to it.

He turned back to the king. “Do you think he really expects us to sit still and leave her there, Father?”

“I don’t know,” Aram said. “Perhaps he’s testing our loyalty.”

“Then he doesn’t deserve it!”

“Of course not,” said Aram. “Corin, I won’t pretend to understand what he thinks or plans. But the fact remains that without Mycenean soldiers we haven’t a chance against the Sarians. I would love to cut the chain between us and Mycene as much as you would. But not until the time is ripe.”

“If he cuts it . . .”

“If he cuts it we fall to Tyrekh. It’s an endgame either way. So all we can do is wait and hope that one of them makes a mistake.”

He sighed. He nodded at his father.

Aram said, “Don’t do anything rash. He may be after you, too. He knows how thick you are with her, taking her might be intended to bait you.”

“Me? I’m not that kind of a fool.”

“Don’t count on Hadon knowing that,” Aram replied. “You’re young.”

“His spies ought to know better,” Corin said, affronted. He had shed his fecklessness years ago. He was not as unprovokable as his father, but he was hardly irresponsible.

“So they should. But watch yourself. There are probably already dogs circling here to see who falls first.”

That made him think of Cade. “We’ve another problem,” he said.
“Lord Cade was poisoned this morning with blood-dust. Berk said it would be impossible to get without consorting with the Sarians. Although I suppose Hadon could come by it. Someone’s been dealing with them, in any case. And if there’s one traitor there’s probably more.”

“Well, that’s a warning at the least,” Aram said, grim. “Gerod is looking into it?”

“Yes, but I haven’t spoken to him. I only found out just before the council. Do you want me to now?”