Markan Sword

  "Like what? Half the lads here have seen more fighting in the last two years than we have our entire lives."

  Kullin shrugged. "Still reckon we use different tactics."

  Egran stared at the former officer. Surely this man ought to know better? No amount of training could lead to better performance than real experience. Perhaps best that the planned Re Tauran invasion of the mainland had been thwarted after all.

  "We'll be stopping soon," said Egran, changing the subject. "With any luck, I'll be able to get warm again."

  Kullin laughed. "No chance," he replied.

  ***

  "Fareen said what?"

  Elsin leaned forward at her sylph's words.

  Millan blinked and her earpoints wilted a little. "She asked me to tell you that Nazvasta-ya might be interested in marrying you."

  "You have something else to tell me?"

  Millan's earpoints wilted further and she looked at the floor. "She wants me to answer questions," replied the infertile. "About things you do and say."

  "I see." Elsin drained her alovak. "I had better go and see Fareen," she said. She looked around the apartment. "Tidy up while I am gone."

  "Se bata. Anya, have I done wrong?" The infertile's silvery eyes held an element of worry, bordering on fear.

  Elsin knew the infertile feared a fresh rejection above anything else. She smiled and ruffled her sylph's hair. "Of course not. You stay here, while I go and see Nazvasta's gwerin."

  Millan bowed her head as Elsin swept out from her rooms.

  The best had trained Elsin while growing up. Never hurry, child; never let them see you out of countenance in public. Walk steadily and with purpose.

  Elsin certainly walked with purpose now, but took time to smile at those she passed in the palace corridors and exchange pleasantries. She inquired after a serving girl's daughter who had recently recovered from an illness; she asked Korl after his son's lambs; said hello to servants she had never before seen.

  So many of her family never bothered.

  Always ask after their health, after their families. Memorize their names, learn what they fear, what they hope to achieve. Unless you have good reason to behave otherwise, always present a friendly, concerned face.

  Such small courtesies went a long way with servants. That they served in no way made them less; those who believed that had forgotten their own beginnings.

  Without rushing, speaking to those she already knew well, and learning more about a few she did not, Elsin finally reached her destination, one of the smallest servants' rooms, tucked discreetly away in one corner.

  Many of her family, believing the palace to be their home, would never dream of knocking.

  It is even more important to offer proper courtesy to those who work for you, than to those of your own station. Insult your equals and they may defend themselves. Insult those below your station, and they will feel persecuted. Offended servants can make your life a misery without ever breaking a rule.

  Elsin rapped on the door.

  A moment later, that door opened and Fareen peered out. Her earpoints slanted forward when she recognized who waited there and she opened her door wider.

  "Elsin-ya; please come inside."

  Elsin stepped into the small apartment. A door led to a sleeping chamber on one side of the room, a further door to a washroom on the other. A small fireplace and a single easy chair almost took up all available floorspace in the living area.

  Books and papers filled the rest of the space, some open on the floor. A single window allowed a view towards the Pauper Gate.

  "I had not expected a visitor or I would have attempted to tidy the place." Fareen sounded genuinely apologetic. She stepped forward and swept the books off the easy chair. "Please sit. There's a stool in my sleeping chamber..."

  Elsin kept a polite smile on her face and accepted the comfortable chair. She sat carefully, pleased gwerins did not exude the same sinabra as their sylph relatives. A moment later, Fareen reappeared with a three-legged stool. She set it between Elsin and the empty fireplace, hunted around the room and eventually grabbed a cushion that had been covered with manuscripts.

  "I am too old to sit comfortably for long on bare wood," the gwerin said with a smile. "Before I sit, may I offer alovak?"

  "I have just finished a mug, thank you." Elsin smiled. "This is not exactly a social visit."

  Fareen returned the smile, a little more cautiously. "Rare for our betters to come here."

  "Just so. My sylph –" Elsin thought about naming Millan, but decided against "– has just informed me that she has been speaking with you."

  Fareen spread her hands, smile still in place, if her earpoints suddenly slanted back in her hair before recovering. A small movement, but Elsin had been watching for it. "Should I not speak with my social equals?"

  Elsin humored the gwerin with a smile. "I know you collect information for my brother-in-law, and advise him," she said. "Most of this family is blind, but I am not."

  "So glad to hear it," murmured Fareen.

  "You told my sylph that Nazvasta has suddenly sprouted an interest in marriage. Involving me."

  "A political arrangement," said Fareen. "He has not tired of Heylena."

  "Political?"

  The gwerin nodded. "He has almost decided to press his claim to the Markan Throne."

  "Almost decided?"

  "Almost completely decided, yes." Fareen nodded. "When Zenepha steps down from the throne, of course."

  "Why does he need a marriage?" Elsin leaned forward.

  "He must bring the two parts of the Vintner family together. Branad's children, for one thing. He must strictly control who they marry and who they might produce. Your late husband's renunciation of his claim was quite specific. It precludes all descendants from the throne including your daughters, I am afraid to say."

  "Indeed. I already knew that and plan to make arrangements with some of the more established merchant families."

  "The wealthier ones, you mean." Fareen smiled in a failed attempt to take any sting from her words. "As Nazvasta-ya has expressed an interest in taking you as his second wife, you should find the best possible matches for your daughters."

  "And what about Kana? Her children are more likely to cause problems than mine."

  "Perhaps." Fareen shrugged. "Verdin seems to have made up his own mind, while her two daughters are making attachments to some of the old noble houses. Nazvasta feels those children are sorted. Forgive me for my forwardness, but you have also expressed your interest in exactly this match."

  "Indeed," replied Elsin. "And?"

  "It appears the feeling is mutual. Nazvasta is very concerned that your daughters find the best possible matches, and to the advantage of all parties concerned. I rather suspect your motivations are also political, so please do not start acting all coy now."

  Elsin paused. What else did this creature know? "It is one thing to speculate aloud," she said. "But I must wonder what a lady might get out of such a political arrangement?"

  "More status for her children," said Fareen. "But for you... Well, surely Empress Elsin must tempt?"

  "Tell your master I will consider it," said Elsin. She stood to leave. "Thank you for your hospitality. One more thing, though."

  "Yes?" Fareen slowly rose to her own feet.

  "Millan."

  "What about her?" The gwerin looked genuinely confused.

  "She is barely five years old. Do not snare her in your schemes, do not recruit her into your networks. Leave. Her. Alone."

  "As you command, my lady."

  Elsin closed the door quietly behind her. She knew Fareen would not leave Millan alone, but Elsin wondered how best to turn this to her advantage. Her sylph was certainly too young for political intrigue, so Elsin might be able to train her to use her immaturity to appear open and honest.

  When in fact, she would be feeding Fareen exactly what Elsin wanted the gwerin to hear. Once again, she silently thanked her old tutors fo
r her own training.

  She would get her way in the end.

  ***

  Marshal Mikhan Annada met with Nazvasta Vintner. Strangely, the claimant had come to him, meeting the marshal in his office, near the palace. Maps, rather than paintings, lined Mikhan's walls. Maps of Sandester's lands and those surrounding it. A large map of Marka. Maps of the offshore islands, particularly Re Taura. Reports were neatly stacked on the single desk. A row of books on a single shelf, containing manuscripts on warfare, many old, and others written by the marshal himself.

  Mikhan and Nazvasta relaxed in the two easy chairs, sipping at alovak prepared by the marshal's own hand.

  "General Indelgar has sent birds to say he has successfully crossed the high plain," said Mikhan. "He got 'em all through the pass with no problems at all."

  Nazvasta nodded. "How long before he is in position?"

  "Weeks," replied Mikhan. "Indelgar'll stay in the far north of Frallon, there are sufficient supplies and I've sent carriers with plenty of birds to join him there. They should get there before he does."

  "And Paul Tennen?"

  "Somewhere in Maedada. He should be in place at about the same time as Indelgar. After all, he's got better roads to travel along."

  "Roads the older Marcus used against us," mused Nazvasta.

  "We learned our lessons from that episode, Majesty," murmured Mikhan. "Our defensive strategies will keep out any future invaders. Only a badly informed fool would come that way again."

  "I'm glad to hear it. And your son. Drecan."

  "In western Vertia." Mikhan smiled. "He will be the first to reach his post."

  "Do you think Marcus will strike so far north?"

  "Hard to say, Majesty. It's not Marcus's plans that worry me. Kelanus commanded here long enough to know all our weaknesses, where the ways into our lands may be found. How to take the cities, how to cripple our trade."

  "Will Marcus give Kelanus the command to destroy us?" Nazvasta's voice remained quiet, considering.

  Mikhan took a sip of his alovak. "Undoubtedly. Assuming Marcus Vintner bothers to move against us."

  "You seem unconvinced. Are our preparations for nothing?"

  Mikhan smiled. "Preparations are never wasted," he replied. "We must cover all eventualities. I suspect that Marcus will at least consider ignoring and sidelining us. Especially if we decide to concentrate on a purely defensive strategy. He might believe we are not worth the cost of rooting us out. Greed might tempt him into grabbing the north Horn, but can he hold it with his back to the sea?

  "His father successfully held the south Horn," pointed out Nazvasta.

  "But failed to hold onto the north Horn for the same reason we failed to retake the southern one." Mikhan smiled.

  "And if Marcus decides to move against us? After all, he may wish to stamp his authority, and use us as an example to others."

  "Not his style, Majesty." Mikhan drained his alovak; he would offer more in a few moments. "But he might send freelancers."

  "Freelancers?"

  "Are you aware that Kelanus has not been seen in Marka for weeks?" Mikhan arched a bushy eyebrow. "Where on the ilvenworld might he be? The army is intact, Marcus has not sent it anywhere. That means Kelanus is freelancing. Soon or late, we'll find out where he's working."

  "Marcus has dismissed him?"

  Mikhan laughed. "Not a chance. That's the mistake your brother made."

  "Is he with Verdin?"

  A scowl flickered. "Verdin's not in Marka either, so it's possible. But where?"

  "More importantly, why? From Marka's point of view, there's unfinished business in Turivkan and unfinished business in Eldova. But what can two men do?"

  "Unfinished business here, too," pointed out Mikhan.

  Nazvasta nodded. "But Marcus will not move against us as long as Zenepha holds the throne. We are loyal to him."

  "Zenepha wonders why you recalled all your troops," countered Mikhan. "It certainly upset him when I tendered my resignation as Marshal of Marka. He displayed considerable annoyance, vocally."

  "Annoyance, a sylph?" Nazvasta gave a broad smile. "Interesting image."

  "The boy has learned his princely arts well," pointed out Mikhan, "and he has excellent advisors."

  "Will they continue to advise Marcus?"

  "If they want to continue influencing policy, then yes." Mikhan nodded.

  "And Zenepha. Any sign of him stepping aside?"

  "There are cracks showing, Majesty. Last year's decisions concerning Re Taura affected him. Kelanus's disregard for his orders turned out to be the correct decision, and Zenepha now questions his own judgment."

  "We all make mistakes," said Nazvasta.

  "True, but this is different. There are people in Marka waiting for Zenepha to slip up, so they can point and say they now have proof sylphs are unfit to rule. Never Marcus's finger pointing, but he will be behind all such moves to oust the sylph."

  "And in Marka?"

  Mikhan shrugged. "Zenepha remains popular with both Senate and people. They remember the siege, and his amazing leadership there."

  "Amazing?" Nazvasta looked wry. "Rare praise from you."

  "He's just a sylph, Majesty. Most sylphs would have run away and hid during the siege, but he joined the men on the walls most nights. If anything, we had a hard time keeping him away from the worst of it."

  "And how much of a survivor is he politically?"

  "Good question." Mikhan shrugged. "As long as the Senate is behind him, he is safe."

  Nazvasta nodded. "Then let us hope he remains safe until we are ready."

  Mikhan smiled.

  ***

  Chapter 14

  Kana's Gambit

  "The red dress, if you will, Telfin."

  Kana Savara Santon turned away from the servant and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Unlike her sister-wife Elsin, Kana still preferred to use human servants. One usually held better conversations with humans than with sylphs. And certainly enjoy more of it. Sylphs seemed to pride themselves on taciturnity. Besides, when properly looked after, human servants made much better spies.

  Blue-gray eyes stared back at her from the polished metal. Calm eyes, unperturbed, as if their owner had not a single care in the world. Yet she must begin finding suitable spouses for her eldest daughter, now eighteen and already dropping hints the time had come for her to discover her prince.

  Kana's firm expression softened as she thought of her daughters. Some believed her stern, though nothing could be further from the truth. She glanced at her glossy dark hair, amazed it remained gray free after the problems of the past two years.

  Not to mention the humiliation of being almost ignored in Marka. The moment her late husband renounced his claim, all interest in her ceased, and attention switched to Zandra.

  Kana had nothing against Zandra, wife to her husband's greatest rival. But she felt a twinge of jealousy that the woman seemed able to get on with almost everybody she met. No doubt she had manipulated them all and taught them the steps to her dance.

  But upon her return to Sandester, she had won her greatest battle.

  Nazvasta had decided to press his claim, once the sylph Emperor stepped down.

  "My lady?"

  Kana turned from the mirror. She saw the servant held her dress ready, a deep red color, as she had requested.

  "Thank you, Telfin." Kana obediently stepped into the dress and returned to studying her reflection as the girl began to do up the small wooden buttons.

  No gray hairs and very few wrinkles, another small blessing. Kana doubted if she would marry again, but some women would size her up before engaging a son to her daughter.

  She had hoped to have all this sorted by now. Her daughter was the same age as she when she married her beloved Branad. She should be finding a wife for Verdin, but the foolish boy had refused to come home, acting almost as badly as a traitor.

  Even though her daughters would no longer ever be sisters to an Emperor, Verdin
remained heir to the lands in Sandester. Nazvasta proudly retained the title of Steward and had assured her he had no designs to rule Sandester's lands himself.

  "My lady, when we change this dress, I will need to sew some of these buttons. They are getting loose."

  "Of course, Telfin, I'm sure you know best."

  Now Telfin had proved herself very useful. An excellent seamstress, Kana ensured she had plenty of time to work at that, providing dresses for the many female servants in the palace.

  As a result, she came to hear everything.

  And everything Telfin heard, Kana learned within a day. And all passed on disguised as innocent gossip. If anybody ever overheard their chats, that is exactly what she wanted them to assume.

  The girl was probably the highest paid servant in Sandester. Paid her servant's wage, as well as the money she earned making dresses, and paid as a spy. Surprisingly, Telfin's true role had slipped past the usually canny Fareen.

  Or perhaps the gwerin did know, for she often kept her secrets close and rarely shared all her knowledge. Kana had been caught out before.

  Next, Telfin picked up the wooden hairbrush and began to run it through Kana's hair.

  "There is some speculation in the servants' quarters," began Telfin.

  "Really?" asked Kana.

  "Concerning Elsin and Nazvasta."

  Kana almost turned her head.

  "Thought that might catch your attention," smiled Telfin. She never referred to anybody else by title, and Kana never received anything more than "my lady", a refreshing attitude.

  "She feels she is still young enough to marry him?" asked Kana.

  "The word is that Nazvasta encourages her."

  "I see." Unfortunately, Kana did see. "We must congratulate Elsin for having an eye for a good investment, but if she tries to snare Nazvasta, she'll miss. The man's utterly devoted to Heylena."

  "Yes, my lady. There is also the question of her daughters."

  "Her daughters are barely four years old."

  Kana saw Telfin nod in the mirror. "My first engagement came when I was two, my lady."

  One day, Kana would ask what had happened there, but suspected she might learn nothing.

  "Who's she got in mind for them?"

  Telfin paused in her brushing. "Aelfra."

  Kana laughed as her mind whirled. Where had that rumor sprung from? "The blood is too close," she said. "And no child born of that union could take the throne, because of Branad's renunciation. Is there any word that dear Elsin has lost her mind?"