The False Martyr (30 page)

Ipid nodded. He moved
toward her, arms out. She fell into him, burying her face in his
chest. He rested his cheek on her head, senses filling with her. He
thought she might cry, might release the emotions she clearly felt,
but she just sighed – almost as if bored.

“
So you forgive me?” she
asked, sorrow in her voice making Ipid forget the sigh.

“
Of course. You did what
you had to do. I am not sure I wouldn’t have done the same.” She
stepped back from his chest and smiled. “Next time you need my
emotions, can you just ask?”

Eia laughed, wiping a
cheek where there were no tears that Ipid could see. “I wish it
were that easy, but you cannot just turn on genuine emotion. It has
to be created by something. But that is enough of that. Now, let’s
talk about what we’re going to do with this nation of yours. Then I
can show you how sorry I really am.”

Ipid stuttered.
“What
we’re
going
to do?”

“
Of course, I’m coming
with you tomorrow. I said, the Belab likes for me to protect you,
and you don’t think I’ll let you get away from me so easily, do
you?”

Ipid’s stopped. He had not
even considered having Eia with him in Wildern, could not even
imagine how he’d balance her demands with those of delivering on
the Kingdoms’ promises to Arin.

“
I can help you.” Eia
smiled. “I’ve seen this before. I know what has worked on my side
of the mountains. You know your country and your people. I know the
Darthur. But do not think it will be easy. For one as kind-hearted
as you, it will be torture, but it can be done. Now, let’s talk
about Arin’s demands.”

Ipid sat back in his
chair, simultaneously relieved and overwhelmed.

“
You are worried about the
gold, but food is your real problem,” Eia said from his shoulder.
“People love gold; they need food. The Darthur have already
stripped everything from the areas they’ve passed. Now, they will
demand food from your entire nation, and you will have to give it
to them or they will take it just as they did in Gurney
Bluff.”

The mention of the
village, sent Ipid’s mind back to the massacre. He froze. Broken
bodies, drying blood, dead staring eyes, and Arin’s utter
indifference. ‘Clean up this mess.’ The words still echoes in his
mind. The look on Arin’s face as he said them. The rage and fear at
knowing how little the people of the Kingdoms meant to that
monster.

“
Are you listening to me?”
Eia asked and shook his arm. She was sitting on the corner of the
desk now. “This is important. The Darthur are a nomadic people.
They are almost never still, especially the men. If you give them
what they want, they will leave your country as quickly as they
came.”

“
But this list of
demands.” Ipid searched his desk for the page Arin had given him.
It was an ink-soaked blot of black. He had it memorized, but still
felt its loss like a missing limb. He held it up to Eia as if it
still made his point. “It will take months to gather all
this.”

“
Weeks,” Eia corrected.
“You have weeks. Arin will never give you months. Beside the fact
that his army will have eaten every scrap of food in your nation by
that time. Remember, every day they are here, you are feeding a
hundred thousand additional mouths, and these are soldiers. They do
not eat porridge and soup. They eat meat and bread. They drink beer
and wine. They will strip your country clean. Your best course is
to give them what they want and send them to ravage someone
else.”

“
But . . . but, Liandria
is our ally. Isn’t it our duty to give them time? How will the
Darthur ever be defeated if we don’t stand together against them?
If I can just hold them here, if we can . . . .”

“
Stop! You will not defeat
them. As long as we are with them, they cannot be defeated. You
have seen too much to still not understand this. The emotion of a
battle gives us almost unlimited power. The very act of fighting,
ensures the defeat of any enemy the Darthur face. Your only hope is
to minimize the damage, to see them on their way, and hope they
return home when they have completed their self-proclaimed mission
of testing the world.”

“
So what are you saying?
How can I possibly give the Darthur everything they ask in only a
few weeks? They want . . . .”

“
It doesn’t matter. Trust
me. The only thing worse than success will be failure. Anything you
do will be better than what Arin will do if he must take what he
wants at the point of a sword. Your people can have a few weeks of
hunger or they can die in fire.”

“
So how do I do it? How
can I get an entire nation to give up everything it has in only a
few weeks?”

“
By being ruthless,” Eia
said immediately. Her expression was as serious as Ipid had ever
seen. There was no playfulness now. “I have seen it many times.
Arin knows exactly what he’s doing. He has given you exactly what
you need. He put you in charge but forbids you from keeping power.
It allows you to do anything and everything necessary without
consequences. You need make no friends, no alliances, no allies.
You give the Darthur what they demand and then you
leave.”

“
But . . . but, they will
hate me. I will be remembered . . . .”

“
As a monster,” Eia
completed the sentence without hesitation. “You will be remembered
as a tyrant, a scourge, and a traitor. You will never be allowed to
return, everything you have will be taken, everyone you love will
turn on you. But Arin has guaranteed that already. Your reputation
cannot be saved, but your people can. Only fear and ruthlessness
will allow you to deliver what the Darthur want. Your perception as
a traitor makes you feared, allows you to be what your country
needs. If you hesitate to use that gift, you will fail. Thousands
upon thousands will die.”

Ipid sat back. He knew
that Eia was right. He had been circling it, avoiding it, but she
was right. He knew the resources available in the Kingdoms. The
only way the figures added up was to do exactly what Eia said. He
could succeed only when he allowed himself to be hated, when he
allowed his people to starve, when he stole from them, threaten
them, intimidate them. Only then. “So what do we do?”

Eia smiled at that. Her
hand came to his cheek, it was freezing. “You take me to your bed.
In the morning, we begin.”

Ipid’s was lost, so
overwrought that he could not resist as Eia guided him from the
chair toward the bed in the corner of the room. He barely saw her
as her robe came off and she climbed on top of him. “You will do
what you must,” she whispered between kisses. “Because you love
your people, you will make them hate you.” She loosened his shirt,
pulled at his pants, kissed his neck and chest. “You can do it. You
can do what must be done, can be what you must be.” Her hand
caressed him, breath in his ear, body pressed close. “You can take
them to the edge of the Maelstrom. It is the only way to save
them.”

Chapter 19

The
23
^rd
Day of Summer

The knock practically
shook the room. Ipid jumped from his sleep, would have flown
entirely from the bed except for the warm weight still on top of
him. “Sun rising,” a voice bellowed through the wood in Darthur.
Footsteps followed, fading down the hall.

Ipid lowered himself back
onto the pillow. Eia covered him, lying exactly as they had ended
the night before, head on his chest, body pressed close. They could
not have slept more than an hour. Ipid had been so exhausted, that
he had barely stayed awake long enough to finish. Obviously, Eia
had done no better.

She moved slowly on top of
him, moaned, and lifted her head. “Good morning.” She brought her
mouth up to his and kissed him. “I need to get you thinking more
often. You lasted far longer than usual. And such a nice way to
fall asleep . . . and wake. We could pick up right where we left
off.” She moaned and moved her hips.

“
We need to go, my dear,”
Ipid groaned through her kisses. Luckily his body was not
responding, or he’d have never been able to stop her. His mind,
however, went to right where it had stopped.
Can I do what needs to be done? Can I be hated? Can I be the
tyrant that my people need?
Shaking his
head with the burden of those thoughts, he rolled out from beneath
Eia, found his small clothes and began pulling them on.

Eia crawled up his back,
nails digging into his shoulders. She kissed his ear. “You’re
right, of course,” she whispered. “But I’d rather you
reconsidered.”

“
And if Arin or Belab
finds you here?”

“
Always so practical, you.
You probably think that saving thousands of lives is more important
than spending the day in bed with me.”

Despite the darkness of
this thoughts, Ipid could not help but laugh. “Just barely.” He
kissed her then stood and walked to the wardrobe where he had hung
his suits. When he turned back around, Eia was just pulling the
black robe back over her head. He watched it fall, providing a last
look at her slim body from breast to bare white feet. The hood went
up after, concealing her smile.

“
Remember what we talked
about last night,” she said from the hood. “There is no time for
hesitation or doubt. I will help you, but you must set the tone
from the first moment.” She walked across the room and took his
hand in hers. “I believe in you,” she assured, staring into his
eyes through the hood. In the darkness of the predawn room, the
glimmer of her dark eyes was the only feature he could see. “I’ll
see you in a few minutes.” She released him and turned to the door.
She slipped through it, a shadow in the dark hall, and disappeared
as quickly and quietly as she had come the night before.

#

Two mammoth Darthur
escorted Ipid to the front of a column of warriors facing down the
road toward Wildern. The sun was just rising above the city,
obscured by the haze of smoke that still rose from the devastation.
From the slight hill, Ipid could see the jumbled chaos of those
districts like great pocks in the otherwise regular flow of
streets, buildings, walls, and river.
Pride,
he reminded himself.
Pride brought us to this. We were always
defeated, could never fight. We must kneel, or this will happen
again and again. But this time, it will be my fault. I will not be
able to blame Arin or Kavich. The blood will be on my hands. My
pride is a paltry price.

As he walked past, Ipid
counted fifty warriors, men who would do anything he asked, men who
had no respect for life, who held no scruples beyond their
so-called honor. Could he bring himself to use them? He took a deep
breath and tried to find the persona he meant to assume.
You know how to be hard,
he told himself.
You were not
sentimental in your mills. You did what had to be done so that the
corporation would survive and grow. This is no different. People
will be hurt. Some will die. That is what happens when you do great
things. You can’t build a house until you cut down a tree. Haven’t
you said that a thousand times to your managers? Is it any
different now?

Arriving at the front of
the line, he looked at the tall horse that awaited him with almost
as much dismay as he felt for what he would soon be forced to do to
his country. He sighed. It was a fine specimen – far better than
the shaggy pony he had ridden as a te-adeate – but all that much
higher off the ground, that much faster, that much harder to get
onto and off of.
Coaches
, he thought as he struggled
onto the horse.
When I am tyrant, I will
ride in coaches.

The warriors around him
did not bother to hide their chuckles and derision at his
struggles. He tried to ignore the laughs as he always did, but they
had special meaning this day. If his guards laughed at him when
they arrived in the city, he was as good as dead.

The arrival of a final two
riders brought the warriors into line and changed the nature of
Ipid’s apprehension entirely. He had expected to see Eia joining
them, but who was the second figure? For a moment, he thought it
might be Belab come to see them off, but this figure sat straight
in the saddle. His movement was steady and sure. He was a young man
(or woman, Ipid thought with another spasm of anxiety). Eia fell in
at Ipid side, her fellow remaining slightly behind. Just enough
light made it over the horizon and through the haze surrounding the
city to reveal Eia’s smile. She looked up at him knowingly and
winked. He could not find a smile to return.

“
My lord,” she said with a
formality that only Ipid could tell was mock, “The Belab has sent
us to assist you in the city. We are prepared to do anything you
ask.” Ipid could only imagine her smirk as she said it.

Ipid looked back down the
road before them, wondering how it was supposed to help him that he
was escorted not only by a cadre of invaders but also by two of the
Exiles. He sighed.
Have the courage to be
hated
, Eia had said. There was little
doubt of that. “Thank you,” he said. “I am sure to find a use for
your skills. Now, shall we be on our way?”