The Invisible Hands - Part 1: Gambit (57 page)

“Any indication whether Lorsanthia plans to declare war?”

“Heemar said in so many words that there was a real possibility for armed conflict.”

“Anytime soon?”

“He didn’t mention a specific time frame, nor a set of conditions that would make Lorsanthia declare war. I had the distinct impression they feel time is on their side and that they are waiting for Your Majesty to become desperate.”

“In other words, they want me to deplete my very last resources,”

the king mused.

“Yes, Sire. I think they plan to make you an offer at such time.

Hence, the ambassador’s reference to Your Majesty’s willful nature.”

“I see. Very perspicacious, My Lord. I think you’re right. We have suspected for a long time that this was their plan all along.”

“This gives us one advantage though,” he reflected silently. “Since Lorsanthia is prepared to wait this out, this means the initiative is ours. We can strike whenever we’re ready. Which is about now, judging by Tenax’s reports.”

“I think the ambassador sees two main possible outcomes. One that will put an end to his mission—”

“In case I refuse him outright,” the king cut in.

48
“Eh… yes, I suppose so. The other possibility would bring him back

to Ormidon. He offered me a position, either on his staff or in his household.” Landar hesitated. “I suspect the latter is more likely.” He fidgeted with the little finger of his left glove.

“Meaning that not only would he be confirmed by his masters in his current position, but that the scope of his authority would have broadened as well,” the king added.

“They’re trying to avoid a Trachian scenario. That’s why they are treading so lightly. They want my willing cooperation.”

“Well, they can go to Murokthil as far as I am concerned,” Tenaxos said out loud, startling Landar by his vehemence. “You have done marvelous work for the realm, My Lord,” he added in a more soothing voice. “You have bravely fulfilled your duty in dangerous circumstances. How it was fulfilled will remain between us. That it was fulfilled will be a matter of public record.”

Landar bowed his head slightly.

“You don’t need to see the ambassador anymore, but I have to ask you to remain within the walls of Fort Nira for a few days longer.

Then, My Lord, why don’t you visit your demesne of Davellon?”

Landar surprised himself.

“Your Majesty, I’m all too aware my nobility is of recent date, but isn’t it usual for nobles to stand by their liege when war threatens?

Maybe you could find use for one sword more, albeit an inexperienced one,” he heard himself say.

The high king looked at him, cocking his head.

“Again Your Lordship confirms what I knew already,” he said.

“And what might that be, Sire?”

“That by ennobling you I made the right decision.”

48
When the door had closed behind the young baron, the high king

turned around in his seat.

“Dennick,” he shouted, “You can come out now.”

A little door at the far end of the room that had appeared to be closed, but had only stood ajar, now opened fully. Dennick emerged from behind it.

“Could you hear everything?” Tenaxos asked, while his secretary came over to take Landar’s place.

“The acoustics of this room are remarkable, Sire,” was his only response as he sat down.

“I think it’s time to summon His Excellency, Ambassador Drevau Heemar, into our presence.” The high king smiled.

“I agree. Are we sure of the time table?”

“I think so. Let’s see,” the king answered. “If I summon His Excellency in, let’s say, a week it will be almost half March. I expect courier pigeons will leave for Tyleme that same evening—”

“And chances are for Lorseth as well,” the dry voice of his secretary interrupted him. The high king didn’t seem to take offense.

“Maybe, but that is of no account. It will take at least a week, more likely two, for a full report to reach Tyleme. Even if their forces are ready to march on the spot, it will still take them some time to reach the border.”

“So we’re going to present His Excellency with a demand his masters could never find acceptable? And hope they take the bait.”

For the first time the high king didn’t seem that certain of himself or their long hatching plans.

48
“We have no alternative. Another year, and we’ll be in a far worse

state than we are now,” the king said, trying to convince himself.

“Prince Tenaxos hasn’t had much time to train his troops.”

“Nonsense. They were trained for years in the Army of the South.

He only has to train his archers, and we saw with our own eyes that he’s quite competent at doing just that. He has a full month, maybe more. That should suffice.”

“Hm. Portonas?”

The high king made a dismissive gesture, almost in disgust.

“He’s fine where he is, guarding the mouth of the Arkhasaro valleys against an attack by sea. It’s totally unnecessary, of course. The coast is too rugged to land a full-fledged army, and the fleet is patrolling what little weak spots and harbors there are. Furthermore, we have no indication they will be using their fleet. They never have, you know.

Yes, a few times, but only as a means of transporting rations and equipment to a place nearer their field of operation.”

“Most of their wars have been against landlocked territories. I suppose they never saw the need for a war fleet,” the private secretary proffered.

“I want Portonas as far as possible from where the action is. I had to give him something, and this was the best I could come up with. If I had kept him here, I would have had to give him command of an army wing. He would probably have botched it up too, blockhead that he is.”

“And I don’t want him to derive any prestige, if there is any to be had, out of this war.”

“We’re as ready as we’ll ever be,” the king said, after going over their preparations one more time. “Let’s give it another week though.

Summon His Excellency to the royal presence in seven days.”

48
When Drevau Heemar, ambassador of His Divinity, King Vartoligor XIII of Lorsanthia entered the great hall of Fort Nira, he immediately knew he had made a mistake. He had donned his finest garments of the purest silk, in rich colors with a costly sheen. So had his retinue of twenty junior ambassadors, secretaries, scribes and attendants. It began when he was told only three of them were permitted to proceed beyond the antechamber. He had protested, only to be met by blank stares and silence.

The hall was teeming with warlike Ximerionians. Nobles and high army officers, he guessed. They gazed at him with undisguised contempt. He and his pitiful few followers were a bright, overdressed, many colored spot of civilians among a gathering of warriors, whose garments were far from as opulent as his own. From all sides he was surrounded by earthen colors like sand yellow, dark red, brown, ocher, khaki and slate gray. To his horror, he saw that the subjects of the high king were permitted to wear their daggers and swords — in full sight — while attending the royal presence. This would be unthinkable in the Marble Halls of Tyleme.

He looked nervously around. No, this was not a vestibule, or a throne room in the Marble Halls. This was the gathering place of a barbarian king and his warriors. Not a sliver of marble in sight. The 48
walls were made of solid rock. At the far, far end of the enormous

room was a dais with an as yet empty throne.

With every passing minute, Drevau Heemar felt more and more like a peacock intruding upon a gathering of hawks and eagles. For the first time in his life, he also felt… effeminate.

He started to sweat as he advanced to the platform, as slowly and as dignified as he could under the cold stares. He halted a few feet from the empty throne, not sure what to do. No one came to his aid.

No one told him what was going to happen. He decided the best he could do was wait. And wait.

It seemed interminable, yet only five minutes had passed when a trumpet flourish announced the arrival of the high king. Tenaxos emerged from a door at the side, and without looking at the ambassador, he climbed the podium and sat down on the throne. He wasn’t wearing a mantle, neither had he put on the Devil’s Crown.

“My Lord Ambassador,” he boomed. “Welcome.”

Drevau Heemar bowed deeply, in Lorsanthian fashion.

“Your Majesty calls, and so I come,” he replied, his voice oily and insincere. “I must confess that the purpose of this meeting is not clear to me, as your invitation mentioned neither reason nor agenda.”

“Make no mistake, ambassador,” Tenaxos replied, dropping the courtesy title. “We didn’t invite you. We summoned you to our presence, because we are displeased.”

“Displeased, Your Majesty? I sincerely hope it is not the acts of this humble servant of His Divinity that have provoked the royal wrath.”

“Not you, ambassador. It is your masters I am displeased with.”

“I assure Your Majesty that Lorsanthia has only the best, neighborly and friendly intentions regarding the great Kingdom of Ximerion and the region in general.”

48
Tenaxos gave Heemar a penetrating look.

“Your masters have a strange way of showing those friendly intentions, ambassador,” he said. “Tell me, why are troops amassing at our border?”

Drevau Heemar made a dismissive gesture.

“I am not familiar with military practices, Your Majesty, but one would suppose it only concerns perfectly normal maneuvers. Even in times of peace, troops need to be trained,” the ambassador said. “The very fact that I was unaware of such exercises should demonstrate that Tyleme doesn’t deem them important.”

It was a blatant lie. Drevau Heemar knew almost to a man how many soldiers were being concentrated at the mutual border.

“Weren’t such maneuvers held in the vicinity of the Trachian border, some time before Lorsanthia invaded the territory of that kingdom?” Tenaxos barked at the ambassador. “With friendly and neighborly intentions, I’m sure,” he scoffed. “Only, the king is dead, fallen in battle. A battle with Lorsanthian soldiers. His youngest son was hanged as a common criminal. Again, by Lorsanthian soldiers. Where his oldest son, the rightful heir to the throne of the Ynocass’s, is, or whether he is still alive, is unknown.”

Heemar cringed inwardly. This wasn’t going as he had expected.

The king didn’t seem worried, wasn’t pleading. He was attacking.

“Your Majesty will understand that the disagreement between Lorsanthia and Trachia had very deep roots, and only the unfortunate intransigence of the Royal House made armed conflict unavoidable.”

“We understand no such thing, ambassador,” Tenaxos replied, each of his words a lash of the whip. “We do understand, however, that there are similarities between what happened before Lorsanthia invaded a neighbor it entertained diplomatic relations with and what is happening now at our borders.”

48
“Surely, Your Majesty can’t—”

“Don’t presume to tell us what we can or cannot, ambassador.”

Drevau Heemar paused to collect his thoughts. Why not broach the subject of a peaceful absorption of Ximerion by Lorsanthia now? The topic, thorny as it was, had to be tackled someday soon anyway.

“Your Majesty,” he began with a thin smile hovering around his lips, “I am, I assure you, the first to deplore this distressing misunderstanding. Might I propose we take a closer look at the present treaty between our two great nations? I’m confident we can resolve all differences that might have arisen between us and come to a new understanding. We could go over the terms of the treaty, and bring them up to date so as to come to a closer cooperation, perhaps.”

The high king leaned back on his throne.

“Define what you mean by a closer cooperation,” he said, his voice calm now.

Drevau Heemar began to sweat again as he realized that this was the moment he had to come into the open with the true intentions of Lorsanthia.

“Your Majesty,” he replied, resolved, “it is no secret that Lorsanthia has brought a long-lasting, peace to the territories under its control.

Under the benign guidance of His Divinity, the satrapies constitute a veritable brotherhood of nations, notwithstanding their diversity, where before they were warring hordes. Your Majesty, war brings nothing but destruction and sorrow. A sensible ruler will do everything in his power to avoid such a calamity. Lorsanthia asks no better than to welcome Ximerion into the fold of this brotherhood of nations as an honored and respected member. All worries about armed conflict would disappear overnight. Not only the imaginary threat that Your Majesty was led to believe existed, but in fact all possibility of war would become nigh impossible, as Ximerion would be 49
protected by the strong arms of Lorsanthia.” He paused. “I implore

Your Majesty to think carefully and to consider all the benefits tighter relations between our nations could entail. I also beg Your Majesty to ponder the consequences of the alternative.”

Drevau Heemar took a deep breath. He felt better, now that he had delivered the message of the Purple Room.

“We knew all along that it would come to this, but finally you
have shown your masters’ true face. Brotherhood… Annexation, pure
and simple, more like it,”
Tenaxos thought.