The Hidden City (9 page)

Faran sighed.

‘He knows what you're talking about, Sparhawk,' Khalad said. ‘He's not stupid – just bad-tempered.'

Sparhawk handed the reins to Berit. Then he remembered something. ‘We'll need a password,' he said. ‘The rest of us are going to have different faces, so you won't recognize us if we have to contact you. Pick something ordinary.'

They all considered it.

‘How about “ramshorn”?' Berit suggested. ‘It shouldn't be too hard to work it into an ordinary conversation, and we've used it before.'

Sparhawk suddenly remembered Ulesim, most-favored-disciple-of-holy-Arasham, standing atop a pile of rubble with Kurik's crossbow bolt sticking out of his
forehead and the word
Ramshorn
still on his lips. ‘Very good, Berit – ah – Sir Sparhawk, that is. It's a word we all remember. You'd better get started.'

They nodded and swung up into their saddles.

‘Good luck,' Sparhawk said.

‘You too, my Lord,' Khalad replied. And then the pair turned and rode slowly toward the drawbridge.

‘All we've really got to work with is the name Beresa,' Sarabian mused, somewhat later. ‘Krager's note said that Sparhawk would receive further instructions there.'

‘That could be a ruse, your Majesty,' Itagne pointed out. ‘Actually, the exchange could take place at any time – and any place. That
might
have been the reason for the instructions to go overland.'

‘That's true,' Caalador agreed. ‘Scarpa and Zalasta might just be waiting on the beach on the west side of the Gulf of Micae wanting to make the trade right there, for all we know.'

‘We're going to an awful lot of trouble here,' Talen said. ‘Why doesn't Sparhawk just have Bhelliom go rescue the Queen? It could pick her up and have her back here before Scarpa even knew she was gone.'

‘No,' Aphrael said, shaking her head. ‘Bhelliom can't do that any more than I can.'

‘Why not?'

‘Because we don't know where she
is -
and we can't go looking for her, because they'll be able to sense us moving around.'

‘Oh. I didn't know that.'

Aphrael rolled her eyes upward. ‘Men!' she sighed.

‘It was very resourceful of Ehlana to slip her ring to Melidere,' Sephrenia said, ‘but locating her would be much easier if she still had it with her.'

‘I sort of doubt that, dear,' Vanion disagreed. ‘Zalasta of all people knows that the rings can be traced. If
Ehlana had still been wearing it, the first thing Scarpa would have done would have been to send Krager or Elron off in the opposite direction with it.'

‘You're assuming that Zalasta's involved in this,' she disagreed. There is the possibility that Scarpa's acting on his own, you know.'

‘It's always better to assume the worst,' he shrugged. ‘Our situation is much more perilous if Zalasta and Cyrgon are involved. If it's only Scarpa, he'll be relatively easy to dispose of.'

‘But
only
after Ehlana and Alean are safe,' Sparhawk amended.

‘That goes without saying, Sparhawk,' Vanion said.

‘Everything hinges on the moment of the exchange then, doesn't it?' Sarabian noted. ‘We can make some preparations, but we won't be able to do anything at all significant until the moment that Scarpa actually produces Ehlana.'

‘And that means that we have to stay close to Berit and Khalad,' Tynian added.

‘No.' Aphrael was shaking her head. ‘You'll give everything away if you all start hovering over those two. Let
me
do the staying close. I don't wear armor, so no one will be able to smell me from a thousand paces off. Itagne's right. The exchange could come at any time. I'll let Sparhawk know the very instant Scarpa shows up with Ehlana and Alean. Then Bhelliom can set him down – with knife – right on top of them. Then we'll have the ladies back, and we'll be more or less in charge of things again.'

‘And that brings us right back to a purely military situation,' Patriarch Emban mused. I think we'll want to send word to Komier and Bergsten. We're going to need the Church Knights in Cynesga and Arjuna, not in Edom or Astel – or here in Matherion. Let's have them ride southeast after they come down out of the
mountains of Zemoch. We'll have the Atans in Sarna, the eastern Peloi and the Church Knights we've already got in Samar, the Trolls in the Tamul Mountains and Komier and Bergsten on the western side of the Desert of Cynesga. We'll be able to squeeze the land of the Cyrgai like a lemon at that point.'

‘And see what kind of seeds come popping out,' Kalten added bleakly.

Patriarch Emban, First Secretary of the Church of Chyrellos, was a man who absolutely adored lists. The fat little churchman automatically drew up a list when any subject was being discussed. There is a certain point in most discussions when things have all been settled, and the participants start going back over the various points. Inevitably, that was the point at which Emban pulled out his list. ‘All right then,' he said in a tone that clearly said that he was summing up, ‘Sparhawk will take ship for Beresa, along with Milord Stragen and young master Talen, right?'

‘It puts him in place in case Berit and Khalad do, in fact, have to ride all the way down there, your Grace,' Vanion said. ‘And Stragen and Talen have contacts in Beresa, so they'll probably be able to find out just who else is in town.'

Emban checked that off his list. ‘Next. Sir Kalten, Sir Bevier and Master Caalador will sail south on a different ship and go into the jungles of Arjuna.'

Caalador nodded. ‘I've got a friend in Delo who has contacts with the robber bands in those jungles,' he said. ‘We'll join one of those bands, so we'll be able to keep an eye on Natayos and pass the word if Scarpa's army starts to move.'

‘Right.' Emban checked
that
off. ‘Next. Sir Ulath and Sir Tynian will go to the Tamul Mountains to stay in touch with the Trolls.' He frowned. ‘Why is Tynian
going there?' he asked. ‘He doesn't speak Trollish.'

‘Tynian and I get along well,' Ulath rumbled, ‘and I'll get terribly lonely if there's no one around to talk with but Trolls. You have no idea of how depressing it is to be alone with Trolls, your Grace.'

‘Whatever makes you happy, Sir Ulath.' Emban shrugged. ‘Now then, Sephrenia and Anarae Xanetia will go to Delphaeus to advise Anari Cedon about all these recent developments and to explain what we're doing.'

‘And
to see what we can do to make peace between Styricum and the Delphae,' Sephrenia added.

Emban checked off another item. He said, ‘Lord Vanion, Queen Betuana, Ambassador Itagne and Domi Kring will take the five thousand knights and go to Western Tamul Proper to join with the forces they have in place in Sarna and Samar.'

‘Where
is
Domi Kring?' Betuana asked, looking around for the little man.

‘He's standing guard over Mirtai,' Princess Danae said. ‘He's still about half afraid she might try to kill herself.'

‘We could have a problem there,' Bevier observed. ‘Under those circumstances, Kring might not be willing to leave Matherion.'

‘We can get along without him if we have to,' Vanion said. I can deal with Tikume directly. Having Kring around would make it easier, but I can make do without him if he really thinks that Mirtai might do something foolish.'

Emban nodded. ‘Emperor Sarabian, Foreign Minister Oscagne and I will stay here in Matherion to hold down the fort, and the Child Goddess will keep us all in touch with each other. Have I left anything out?'

‘What do you want me to do, Emban?' Danae asked sweetly.

‘You'll stay here in Matherion with us, your Royal Highness,' Emban replied, ‘to brighten our gloomy days and nights with the sunshine of your smile.'

‘Are you making fun of me, your Grace?'

‘Of course not, Princess.'

To say that Mirtai was unhappy would have been the grossest of understatements. She was in chains when Kring brought her into the council chamber with a hopeless kind of look on his face. ‘Nothing I say even reaches her,' the Domi told them. ‘I think she's even forgotten that we're betrothed.'

The golden Atan giantess would not look at any of them, but sank instead to the floor in abject misery.

‘She has failed her owner.' Betuana shrugged. ‘She must either avenge or die.'

‘Not quite, your Majesty,' Sparhawk's daughter said firmly. She slipped down from the chair in the corner from which she had been watching the proceedings. She deposited Rollo in one corner of the chair and Mmrr in the other and crossed the room to Mirtai with a businesslike look on her small face. ‘Atana Mirtai,' she said crisply, ‘get up off the floor.'

Mirtai looked sullenly at her, then slowly rose, her chains clinking.

‘In my mother's absence, I am the queen,' Danae declared.

Sparhawk blinked.

‘You're not Ehlana,' Mirtai said.

‘Im not pretending to be. I'm stating a legal fact. Sarabian, isn't that the way it works? Isn't my mother's power mine while she's away?'

‘Well – technically, I suppose.'

‘Technically my foot. I'm Queen Ehlana's heir. I'm assuming her position until she returns. That means that I temporarily own everything that's hers – her
throne, her crown, her jewels,
and
her personal slave.'

‘I'd hate to have to argue against her in a court of law,' Emban admitted.

Thank you, your Grace,' Danae said. ‘All right, Atana Mirtai, you heard them. You're
my
property now.'

Mirtai scowled at her.

‘Don't do that,' Danae snapped. ‘Pay attention. I am your owner, and I forbid you to kill yourself. I
also
forbid you to run off. I need you here. You're going to stay here with Melidere and me, and you're going to guard us. You failed my mother. Don't fail me.'

Mirtai stiffened, and then she broke her chains with an angry wrench of her arms. ‘It shall be as you say, your Majesty,' she snapped, her eyes blazing.

Danae looked around at the rest of them with a smug little smile. ‘See,' she said. ‘Now that wasn't so hard, was it?'

It was a small, single-masted coastal freighter with a leaky bottom and patched sails. It definitely did
not
skim the waves. Berit and Khalad wore their mail-shirts and travelers' cloaks and they stood in the bow looking out across the leaden expanse of the Gulf of Micae as the wretched vessel wallowed along. ‘Is that coast up ahead?' Berit asked hopefully.

Khalad looked out across the choppy water. ‘No, just a cloud-bank. We're not moving very fast, my Lord. We won't make the coast today, I'm afraid.' He looked aft and lowered his voice. ‘Stay alert after the sun goes down,' he instructed. ‘The crew of this tub is made up of waterfront sweepings, and the captain isn't much better. I think we should take turns sleeping tonight.'

Berit glanced back along the deck at the assortment of ruffians loitering there. ‘I wish I had my axe,' he muttered.

‘Don't say things like that out loud, Berit,' Khalad muttered.
‘Sparhawk
doesn't use a war-axe. Krager knows that, and one of these sailors may be working for him.'

‘Still? After the Harvest Festival?'

‘Nobody's ever figured out a way to kill
all
the rats, my Lord, and it only takes one. Let's both behave as if we're being watched and every word we say is being overheard – just to be on the safe side.'

‘I'll be a lot happier once we get ashore. Did we really have to make this leg of the trip by sea?'

‘It's the custom.' Khalad shrugged. ‘Don't worry. We can hold off these sailors if we have to.'

‘That's not what's bothering me, Khalad. This scow waddles through the water like a whale with a sprained back. It's making me queasy.'

‘Eat a piece of dry bread.'

‘I'd rather not. This is
really
miserable, Khalad.'

‘But we're having an
adventure,
my Lord,' Khalad said brightly. ‘Doesn't the excitement make up for the discomfort?'

‘No. Not really.'

‘You're the one who wanted to be a knight.'

‘Yes, I know – and right now I'm trying to remember why.'

Patriarch Emban was very displeased. ‘This is really outrageous, Vanion,' he protested as he waddled along with the others toward the chapel in the west wing. ‘If Dolmant ever finds out that I've permitted the practice of witchcraft in a consecrated place of worship, he'll have me defrocked.'

‘It's the safest place, Emban,' Vanion replied, ‘The pretense of “sacred rites” gives us an excuse to chase all the Tamuls out of the west wing. Besides, the chapel's probably never really been consecrated anyway. This is an imitation castle built to make Elenes feel at home. The people who built it couldn't have known the rite of consecration.'

‘You don't
know
that it hasn't been consecrated.'

‘And you don't know that it has. If it bothers you all that much, Emban, you can re-consecrate it after we finish.'

Emban's face blanched. ‘Do you know what's involved in that, Vanion?' he protested. ‘The hours of praying – the prostration before the altar – the fasting?' His chubby face went pale. ‘Good God, the fasting!'

Sephrenia, Flute, and Xanetia had slipped into the chapel several hours earlier, and they were sitting
unobtrusively in one corner listening to a choir of Church Knights singing hymns.

Emban and Vanion were still arguing when they joined the ladies. ‘What's the problem?' Sephrenia asked.

‘Patriarch Emban and Lord Vanion are having a disagreement about whether or not the chapel's been consecrated, little mother,' Kalten explained.