By Schism Rent Asunder (73 page)

“Actually, Your Highness,” Wave Thunder said, waiting until Nahrmahn had seated himself and then settling into a chair of his own on the opposite side of the table, “you may be surprised about the actual purpose of our ‘short chat.' To be honest, His Majesty—and I—are less interested in the information you may possess than in the additional insight you may be able to offer into our analysis of the information we already have.”

“Indeed?” Nahrmahn raised both eyebrows, and it was Wave Thunder's turn to chuckle.

“Indeed,” he confirmed, while a fresh, closer peal of thunder crashed overhead. “In fact, to be perfectly blunt, Your Highness, one of the secondary purposes of this meeting is to acquaint you with the intelligence capabilities we already possess.”

“Ah, I see.” Nahrmahn smiled thinly. “As a pointed reminder of Cayleb's ability to … monitor my own activities, I presume.”

“To some extent,” Wave Thunder agreed imperturbably, and his own smile was a bit broader than Nahrmahn's had been. “I hope you won't mind my saying that, despite a few initial reservations of my own, it's something of a relief to be able to discuss this with someone who understands how these things are done, Your Highness.”

“I'll take that as a compliment, My Lord—provisionally, at least.”

“Believe it or not, that was how it was intended.”

The baron opened the briefcase he'd brought with him and extracted a fairly thick stack of folders. He laid them on the table in front of him, then cocked his head at Nahrmahn.

“I realize Baron Shandyr hasn't had much luck reestablishing your own spy networks here in Charis, Your Highness,” he said. “I also know you've been quite patient with him, despite your own obvious frustration, and that his operations have continued with their normal high rate of success
outside
Charis.”

Nahrmahn's eyebrows rose again at the frankness in Wave Thunder's calm voice. The baron saw his expression and shook his bald head.

“There's a reason he's been so unsuccessful here in Charis, and it has nothing to do with his competence or how hard he's tried. As you yourself are aware, Your Highness, the only way a secret can truly be kept is if it isn't told to anyone. I believe that's a practice with which you're quite familiar, just as you're also aware it can occasionally be frustrating to your subordinates. For example, Earl Pine Hollow was quite surprised some months ago to discover you'd already been in contact with King Gorjah's first councilor.”

This time Nahrmahn's eyebrows lowered suddenly, and he frowned.

“There are two reasons I used that particular example,” Wave Thunder continued calmly. “First, because it demonstrates the extent to which we've penetrated Emerald, and how long ago we managed to do it. Second, because it demonstrates that you're familiar with the idea of what we call here in Charis ‘the need to know.' It's one of our fundamental policies that information is kept in individual compartments, and that only those who ‘need to know' something in order to do their jobs are made privy to that information. It indicates not
distrust
on our part, although, as you yourself are aware, a certain degree of distrust is a necessary precaution, but rather the protection of critical information by limiting its spread.”

“You're right, My Lord,” Nahrmahn said slowly, still frowning, although it was a frown of thoughtfulness now, not one of astonishment. “I am familiar with the need to keep things close, although I've never used that description of the logic. ‘Need to know.'” He seemed to roll the words on his tongue, tasting them as he repeated them, and then nodded slowly. “I have to say it's an appropriate turn of phrase, though.”

“I'm glad you understand, Your Highness.” Wave Thunder sat back in his chair. “One of those ‘need to know' things is precisely how our spies go about gathering much of the information and knowledge which comes to us here. Frankly, we have great respect for your ability as an analyst, and we intend to make the best use of it we can. However, as often as not—and, to be honest, probably
more
often than not—you may never know how the information we're asking you to analyze came into our possession in the first place.”

“I trust you'll forgive me for pointing this out, Baron, but quite frequently the source of a piece of information has enormous bearing on its reliability, and that, in turn, has obvious implications for its analysis.”

“Your Highness,” Wave Thunder smiled even more broadly, “it truly
is
a pleasure to discuss these matters with someone who understands the niceties of the spymaster's art. However, one of the reasons I brought these”—he tapped the stack of folders—“is to give you a demonstration of how reliable our spies are.”

“In what way, if I may ask?” Nahrmahn inquired when the Charisian paused.

“Pick a day—any day you wish—from the third five-day of May,” Wave Thunder invited.

Nahrmahn blinked at him, then shrugged.

“Very well,” he said. “I pick Thursday.”

“Very good, Your Highness.” Wave Thunder sorted through the folders until he found the one he wanted. He separated it from the others, then laid it carefully on the table in front of him and opened it.

“On Thursday, May the fourteenth,” he said, looking down at the notes before him, “you summoned Commodore Zhaztro and Earl Pine Hollow to Eraystor Palace. You met in the Blue Salon, where you discussed the recent capture of the Church dispatch boat carrying dispatches from Bishop Executor Thomys to Bishop Executor Wyllys. Commodore Zhaztro informed you that there was no way to guarantee the safe passage of even Church dispatch boats into Eraystor Bay in the face of our blockade. He suggested, however, that not even our navy could blockade every minor port, and that it would be possible for Church couriers to use those secondary ports. You pointed out that the Bishop Executor felt using such minor ports would be undignified, but you also instructed the Commodore to draw up a list of them for future use, after which you dismissed him and had a most interesting conversation with the Earl. In the course of that conversation you shared with him your own analysis of the confrontation between Charis and the Group of Four and your belief that things would get far worse before they get better.”

Wave Thunder glanced up from his notes. Despite decades of experience at self-discipline and self-control, Nahrmahn's jaw had dropped as the Charisian spymaster continued his deliberate, devastatingly accurate summarization of the meeting at which only three men had been present.

“I would make two points at this moment, Your Highness,” the baron said calmly. “First, it was in fact your words to Earl Pine Hollow, and several other, similar conversations with him, which played a not insignificant part in the terms which Emperor Cayleb was prepared to offer Emerald. And, secondly, if you're thinking either Commodore Zhaztro or Earl Pine Hollow must have betrayed your confidence for us to have this information, let me turn to a later point in that same day.”

He turned pages unhurriedly until he found the one he wanted, then cleared his throat.

“Later that same evening,” he resumed, “you had a private meeting with Baron Shandyr. At that meeting, you touched once again, if less strongly, upon the same analysis of the Church's position you had shared with Earl Pine Hollow earlier. You also pointed out to the Baron—as, indeed, you had pointed out to the Earl earlier—that the Group of Four's entire plan had been as stupid as it was arrogant. And you pointed out that Prince Hektor was unlikely to risk his own security to come to Emerald's aid. In fact, your exact words were ‘Why should that bastard risk one pimple on his precious arse for us?' After which”—the baron looked up at Nahrmahn once again—“you instructed the Baron to review his arrangements for passing the execution order, if you'll pardon the choice of words, to the assassins you have in place in Manchyr.”

Nahrmahn's astonishment had gone far beyond mere shock as Wave Thunder calmly closed the folder once again.

“As you can see, Your Highness,” he said, “for us to have obtained this information through any avenue with which you may be familiar, both Earl Pine Hollow and Baron Shandyr would have to have been agents of Charis. Which, I assure you—and I'm quite sure you already know it to be the truth—neither of them would have dreamed of becoming.”

“I…”

Nahrmahn's voice trailed off, and he shook himself. Then he cleared his throat and sat back in his chair, gazing intently into Wave Thunder's eyes.

“I certainly wouldn't have believed either of them would have betrayed me,” he said at last. “On the other hand, I can't see any other way for you to have learned the details of two separate private conversations.”

“Your Highness, I allowed
you
to pick the day,” Wave Thunder pointed out. “If you would care to pick another day—as, for instance, the following Friday, when you had a private conversation with Commodore Zhaztro, or perhaps Monday, when Bishop Executor Wyllys met with you to ‘discuss' your suggestion that ‘Mother Church's messengers creep about, like poachers or smugglers, from one wretched little rathole to another'—I'm quite prepared to share the summaries of those other days with you, as well.”

“But how—?”

Nahrmahn chopped the question off. He stared at Wave Thunder for several more seconds, then inhaled deeply.

“I begin to understand what you meant about ‘needing to know,' My Lord. Understanding it will make my curiosity burn no less brightly, but I'm not about to ask you to compromise your access to information that detailed. And please believe me when I tell you that the realization that you and the Emperor have access to it should quite neatly depress any temptation on my part to even contemplate betraying my oath of fealty to him. After all,” the Emeraldian prince showed his teeth briefly, “it's extraordinarily difficult to concoct an effective plot without even talking to your fellow conspirators!”

“I must confess I'm relieved to hear that, Your Highness. And if I'm going to be totally honest, that was, in fact, one of the conclusions both His Majesty and I hoped you would reach. Nonetheless, I was also completely honest when I said we would all appreciate any insight into this information which you might be able to help us to gain.”

“I'll be delighted to help in any way I can,” Nahrmahn assured him.

“I'm glad. Ah, there
is
one other minor point I need to touch upon, however, Your Highness.”

“Which would be what, Baron?”

“His Majesty is aware that you and Baron Shandyr did, in fact, order Hektor's assassination,” Wave Thunder said rather delicately. “Now, in the normal course of things, the Emperor would shed no tears if Hektor were to … suffer a fatal accident, shall we say? And, to be honest, it would seem a most appropriate fate for someone like Hektor. Unfortunately, we believe any attempt upon Hektor's life would have no more than an even chance of success, at best. And, more to the point, perhaps, there's no doubt in our minds as to who the Corisandians will blame for any such attempt at this time. While we cherish no illusions about the opinions already held in Corisande where Charis is concerned, we're deeply concerned about the propaganda value the Group of Four might be able to extract from such an attempt. In fact, in many ways, Hektor's assassination—especially if it could be reasonably charged that Charis was responsible—would be more valuable to the Group of Four than Hektor himself, alive, is. With his navy neutralized, and his realm open to invasion whenever we choose to strike, he's scarcely a military asset any longer, nor is there any way the ‘Knights of the Temple Lands' could come to his assistance, even if they wished to. So, since he no longer has value as a living ally, someone like Chancellor Trynair, at the very least, would be quick to recognize his greater value as a dead martyr, treacherously slain by murderous Charisian assassins.”

Nahrmahn considered that, then nodded.

“I can see your point, My Lord,” he acknowledged, not even attempting to pretend he hadn't given exactly the instructions Wave Thunder had said he had. “At the time, for obvious reasons, I was less concerned about how Hektor's demise might affect Charis than I was about how a sudden power vacuum in Corisande might have attracted Charisian attention there and away from
me
. Obviously, that portion of my calculations requires some rethinking under the new arrangement.”

“Oh, indeed it does, Your Highness,” Wave Thunder agreed with a smile. “And your comment about ‘rethinking' brings me to my final point for this meeting. You see, Prince Nahrmahn, Emperor Cayleb doesn't believe you'll find it possible to stop scheming and plotting. Oh,” the Charisian raised one hand and waved it back and forth, like a man brushing away an irritating fly, “that doesn't mean he suspects you of some fell intent to betray the oath you just swore. It simply means you are who you are, Your Highness, and this is the way your mind works. More than that, you're very good at it—much better than Hektor even begins to suspect—and it would be foolish of His Majesty to allow such a sharp and serviceable sword to rust into uselessness through disuse. Which is why he has a proposal he would like you to consider.”

“What sort of proposal, My Lord?” Nahrmahn asked, his eyes narrowed in speculation.

“His Majesty, with Her Majesty's concurrence, wishes for me to remain here, in my existing post as the Kingdom of Charis' senior spy. It makes particularly good sense in light of the fact that I'm also the man in charge of our domestic security and investigations. Given the potential for internal unrest which the schism with the Church creates, this is scarcely the time for me to be taking my finger off of that particular pulse.

“By the same token, they wish for Baron Shandyr to retain
his
post in Emerald, and Sir Ahlber Zhustyn to do the same thing in Chisholm. That, however, leaves a glaring vacancy which they're considering calling upon you to fill.”