Markan Sword

  "They say it isn't illegal," pointed out Telfin.

  "Neither is taking a sylph to your bed because you feel lonely, but it doesn't mean you should. And it certainly isn't desirable. Nasty things can happen when you marry blood that is too close. Insane or deformed children."

  "I dare not ask." Telfin gave a delicate – and doubtless false – shudder. "My lady, I do not know of anybody taking a sylph to bed."

  "Glad to hear it." Kana shook her head. "Perfectly legal to do it though."

  "If Elsin marries Nazvasta, then surely that would prevent her daughters marrying his son?"

  "I hope so." Kana had never rebuked Telfin for it, but she wished the girl would stick to feeding information, rather than trying to analyze it. The girl might just be passing on speculation from the servants' quarters. Under the guise of gossip, of course. Kana hoped somebody had managed to get the truth twisted horribly out of recognition.

  Surely not even Elsin was so foolish?

  "And some feel that Nazvasta might not see what she is trying to do," continued Telfin. "I know it's silly, but more than a few are worried that she might be trying to take power for herself."

  Kana stiffened. She heard Fareen's voice here. The gwerin very likely understood the power of rumor and gossip, using it to counter Elsin's over-ambitious plans. Not that Elsin had any designs on the throne for herself.

  "I had better go and see my brother-in-law," she said.

  "Of course, my lady." Telfin smiled.

  Kana hoped the gwerin would be with him. "I think my hair is brushed enough."

  Telfin stood back and dropped into a tiny curtsy. "I will tidy your rooms before you return, my lady."

  Kana smiled at the servant and left her apartment, sweeping along the palace corridors. She smiled or acknowledged all greetings given to her. She had ruled the palace while her husband lived and, though that duty now fell to Heylena, most remembered her rule well.

  And, she hoped, fondly.

  People respected the order properly organized society brought. Respect and compliance given to those placed in authority. But respect must be maintained, and Kana knew the three rules to follow.

  Firm, fair and friendly. That worked with any sort of governance. Firm, which earned respect. Punish wrongdoers, protect the weak and innocent. Fair, which must be blind. Justice could take no sides, neither could fairness. Friendly, which prevented despotism. Friendliness spread, made people happier, encouraged them to give their best.

  So many rulers, so many housemistresses, no matter how humble, and so many governments forgot these simple, easy to follow rules.

  And disaster invariably followed. If not today, then tomorrow.

  She approached Nazvasta's rooms.

  She must give the man credit. Nazvasta had made no move to take Branad's old rooms, which now stood empty. He gave no outward hint that he had staked his claim to the Markan Throne, no sign of any title other than Steward of Sandester, granted by Branad and confirmed by Zenepha.

  She respected his modesty, but sometimes saintly rulers came to sticky ends. Kana hoped the man was hard enough for what would come.

  She rapped on the door.

  A serving girl opened it immediately, gray eyes widening as she recognized Kana.

  "Is he in?" she asked.

  The girl nodded and opened the door wider. "In the main room," she replied. "Alovak?"

  "Please."

  Kana entered the main living room without announcement.

  Nazvasta rose from his chair. It troubled her how much he looked like Branad.

  "Kana! A pleasant surprise. Please, do come and sit." He waved vaguely towards a chair. "I trust Kelen has offered alovak? Good. I am sorry Heylena is not here, but she is out riding with the children."

  Kana sat. "I have heard troubling rumors, brother," she said, without further ceremony. "Gossip, I am sure."

  "Gossip you feel I should hear?"

  "I am certain you have already heard it." Kana smiled. "Your gwerin has probably told you."

  "Sandester's gwerin," murmured Nazvasta. "Fareen will see us and our children in our graves and still only be middle aged."

  "Elsin."

  "What about her?"

  "Being overly ambitious as usual. She is chasing your hand, I hear. And if not that, chasing your son's hand for her daughters."

  "Oh, that rumor. Yes, I've heard it. The second part is nonsense."

  "I do hope so." Kana smiled.

  "Elsin can expect excellent matches within the mercantile families for her daughters," continued Nazvasta. "No better than that."

  Kana nodded. "Must I warn you to exercise extreme caution around her?"

  "Fareen already has." Nazvasta smiled. "She sounds dangerous."

  "The ambitious are always dangerous to people surrounding them," replied Kana. "Especially if those people get in the way."

  "Must be hard to hold ambitions higher than my own," said Nazvasta.

  Kana's smile grew tolerant. "Unless you happen to be the means to her end, rather than the end in itself."

  "Very profound. Ah! Kelen."

  The servant entered, carrying a tray with the alovak. She smiled at Nazvasta and poured two cups before withdrawing again.

  "Profound and true," continued Kana. "Elsin is fully aware that she has the chance of seizing at least some power for herself and she is still too young for true wisdom. She does not share our values."

  Kana sipped her alovak, watching Nazvasta pretend to consider her words.

  "You are not the first to warn me about her," he said, eventually.

  "Fareen has also seen through her?"

  Nazvasta laughed. "Fareen recommends the best way to hold her in check is to marry her."

  "So long as you realize how dangerous she might be."

  Nazvasta nodded. "And if I die, what do you think will happen to her?"

  Kana drained her alovak. "Meaning?"

  "To lose one husband is a tragedy. But two?"

  "Thank you, dear brother, for being so blunt."

  "Come now Kana, we both know you are past tears."

  "You still ought take more care. I am not speaking merely of upsetting widows." She smiled and leaned forward. "And be very careful which widows you upset."

  "I hope you feel better as I assure you that we are keeping very careful eyes turned in Elsin's direction."

  "I hope so. After all, you are still spymaster."

  "Indeed. A task I might have to hand over to someone new in the very near future."

  "Anybody in mind?" asked Kana.

  "I suspect one of my late brother's widows might be successful in the role. The one with no intention of marrying again, who clearly has far too much time on her hands and one who listens to gossip."

  Kana smiled. "I will carefully consider your proposal, under one condition."

  "And that might be?"

  "My hand holds Fareen's reins." Kana put her alovak cup down on the table. "I'll tolerate only one spymaster in Sandester."

  "Sister, I'm not sure what you mean." Nazvasta drained his own alovak.

  "Don't be so coy. We both know perfectly well that Fareen controls an extensive network of informants, all listening at doors or serving those she wants to learn more about." Kana stared at Nazvasta. "She reports to me, if I'm to take over from you."

  Nazvasta considered for a moment, then nodded. "That sounds fair," he said, eventually.

  Kana stood to leave. "Well then, I've passed on my warning to you and earned something more in return than I ever expected. It might be a good idea to arrange a meeting between us and Fareen, so the gwerin knows who holds the whip from now on."

  Nazvasta grinned. "We can have the meeting in the morning, if you wish."

  "Here, or in your other study?"

  "Very perceptive of you." Nazvasta's smile remained in place. "Here, if you wish."

  Kana nodded. "Same time?"

  Nazvasta stood and inclined his head. "I will see you in the morning. With
Fareen."

  ***

  Ever since she had first come to Sandester so long ago, bringing Elwan's children with her, Fareen had loved the city. She did not know quite what pushed her buttons, but Sandester's premier city felt fresh compared with so many others. And that freshness had little to do with the Aboras scouring the streets.

  Clean shoes peeped from under her cloak and the hood hid her face from the casual observer. Many others moved through the streets in similar garb: the Aboras had dropped, but Sandester rarely held much heat before the middle of the year.

  "Alms," begged a light voice.

  Fareen looked down and a small grimace of distaste turned her mouth. Every city had beggars, but she wished more could be done to encourage these indigents into proper use. That so many deliberately chose this way of life confused her.

  A hand thrust in her direction belonged to no human, attached to a blue arm protruding from the bundle of rags crouched in a corner. This sylph no doubt belonged to someone who preferred to send their property out to beg for a living, rather than earn that living themselves. Such behavior from humans disgusted her.

  She almost told the sylph to berate his owner for proper work, before she remembered this would serve no purpose. Her hand felt for and found one of the hard candies she always carried for sylph beggars.

  "This is the best I can do for you," she said, dropping the sweet into the blue hand.

  The creature leaned forward in a bow. "Mutydo, donanya," he said, before the sugary treat disappeared straight into the sylph's mouth.

  Perhaps the lack of filth on the streets helped her view. Whoever had planned and built the city had ensured the inclusion of an adequate sewerage system. The rulers since then insisted that the main streets be washed down every night – Sandester had never been short of water – and Sandesterans had come to expect high standards.

  Fresh paint adorned almost every building. Once the Aboras dropped in early spring, people coated their homes in a fresh layer of paint, stripping away anything that had begun to peel. That also helped keep the city spotless.

  Ensuring the hood of her cloak masked her non human features, Fareen turned a final corner and entered the shop.

  Finished dresses hung in rows along one wall, with bolts of cloth lining the other. Fareen had never bought a dress, her clothing being provided by the family she served, but she had sent many of Sandester's wealthy ladies here. Of the eight such tailors in the city, this one was the best. But the reason she came here had nothing to do with clothes.

  Apart from the two assistants, the shop had no customers, so the gwerin pushed the hood of her cloak back.

  "Mistress Fareen," said one of the assistants, an older lady.

  Fareen smiled. "Hello Lesina." The gwerin remembered this older lady when she first started here, a tiny girl eager to begin her apprenticeship. And now a grandmother.

  Lesina smiled back before turning to her companion, this one still an apprentice. "Deleyne, be a good girl and let Mistress Eslenna know the lady gwerin is here to see her."

  Deleyne stared wide-eyed at Fareen before dashing through to the inner room. The gwerin grimaced, annoyed how many people seemed to see her as something she was not. Why did so many fear her?

  Eslenna, the proprietress, bustled through a moment later.

  "Deleyne, alovak if you please," she barked.

  Deleyne nodded and disappeared again.

  "Fareen, please come through." The woman's voice sounded little different, perhaps a whit softer, but she spoke this way to almost everybody.

  The inner room had shelves sagging under the weight of wooden boxes stuffed with papers. All the minutiae of running a business, with detailed accounts, tax information, customer records... Eslenna always dealt with Fareen here, a comfortable enough room.

  "You have not been to see me for some time," remarked Eslenna, her gray eyes twinkling. "Please sit."

  As Fareen sat on one of the cushioned chairs, Eslenna turned to one of her shelves, ran her fingers quickly along the boxes and finally drew one out. Fareen saw nothing on the box to mark it in any way, but she supposed there must be some sort of system in use here.

  Perhaps Eslenna used the Gift; not all gwerins shared the sylphs' ability to sense it in use. Some gwerins could, but she had not been so blessed.

  "There is a message?"

  Eslenna smiled. "From Eldova. From a fellow Gifted."

  "Berlya." Fareen almost whispered the name. "Not heard from her for a few years."

  "Well, she did send it to Marka and my contact there sent it on here."

  Fareen smiled. Human relationships could be hideously complicated, but many humans could be bought. Especially those who were not Gifted.

  Deleyne entered with the alovak.

  "Thank you," barked Eslenna, using her mistress-to-apprentice voice. "Leave it here, please."

  Deleyne obeyed, smiled warmly at Eslenna and left.

  "What does Berlya have to say?" asked Fareen, as Eslenna poured the alovak.

  "Intriguing, I think."

  The gwerin accepted her alovak and inhaled the aroma. She waited.

  "Hingast's first wife has been to see her," said Eslenna, after sipping her drink. "Says that Hingast has suddenly started showing interest in her again. As a woman."

  Being an infertile, Fareen sometimes found such emotional entanglements confusing. Or perhaps because she was a gwerin. She understood, or thought she understood, love. But on the heights, few marriages had anything to do with love, or even emotion of any kind.

  "As a woman," muttered Fareen, before sipping her alovak.

  "Strange behavior, after being ignored for years," said Eslenna. "Even more strangely, he's now ignoring his younger wives."

  Fareen nodded. "Hingast married Helen, who gave him three daughters. On the birth of the third, he married Prella of ilven looks and name. She gave him three daughters and, on the birth of the third, he marries yet again, but Ansin gives him a son."

  "And a daughter, on whom he dotes, apparently." Eslenna smiled again. "The older six, and their mothers, he ignored completely. Until he returned home last winter."

  Fareen nodded. "Perhaps now he has a son, he is more accepting of the others. After all, he can use the six daughters as powerful bargaining tools."

  Eslenna regarded the gwerin calmly. "I will never feel comfortable with anybody referring to women and girls as tools," she said, a hint of anger entering her voice.

  Fareen's pale brown eyes didn't even flicker. "Comforting or not, that is precisely what they are," she replied. "Alliances and more are built on such bargains."

  "Such a cold assessment." Eslenna shook her head.

  "Well, I will think on Berlya's words," promised Fareen, "but at the moment, I really see no significance to them. Contemplation usually helps."

  The smile returned. "While contemplating, think on who next to send to my shop."

  Fareen laughed. "That I can promise you."

  ***

  "Right," said Nazvasta, rubbing his hands together, "first lesson."

  They had met in Nazvasta's own quiet room, where they were unlikely to be disturbed.

  "What is going on around the known world. Especially the parts connected to us in any way." Nazvasta smiled. "Of course, we are only as good as our information, but our network of spies is extensive, even if sometimes shared."

  "Shared?" Kana blinked.

  "Almost everybody accepts wages from more than one ruler, especially when sources do not hail from our own lands. Why not sell the same piece of information several times over?"

  "That means everybody knows the same things," protested Kana, before sipping at her alovak.

  "An excellent assumption to make," smiled Nazvasta. "It's how we interpret that information that makes each of us different. You would interpret it differently from me, such things are natural and cannot be helped."

  "I see."

  "Now, where do you think is important?"

  "Marka," re
plied Kana, immediately.

  Nazvasta nodded. "For as long as Zenepha remains Emperor, Marka is no threat to us. However, should the Emperor fall, we know cousin Marcus is best placed to succeed. Worse, the armies there know how we fight, balanced only because we know how they fight."

  "What risk that Zenepha will fall?" asked Kana.

  "High," replied Nazvasta, immediately. "We know that Marcus and Zandra are politicking hard to replace the sylph; we also know that last year's fear over Re Taura proved ill founded and that has weakened Zenepha's position. When he might fall is another matter."

  "Trenvera and Metton," said Kana. "Will they join with Marka?"

  "Eventually yes," replied Nazvasta. "We have pointed out to both those countries that we intend to retain our independence when Marcus takes the throne. They have refused to inform us of their intentions. Metton is most likely to join, so we will then have a shared border with Marka."

  "And Trenvera?"

  "Probably relishes her independence," said Nazvasta. "But we don't really know."

  "So we run the risk of losing our buffer state against Marcus's lands?" pressed Kana.

  "Yes."

  "Thanks for cheering me up," she muttered.

  "Our diplomats are helping ensure Trenvera decides to stay sovereign," added Nazvasta. "But who knows?"

  "And Re Taura?"

  "No longer a threat," said Nazvasta. "Most of their army has gone, much of it now serving in our army. They are trying to force a trade agreement and customs union with the other islands, possibly with themselves in charge. But they are only interested in defending themselves, rather than attacking us."

  "And Eldova."

  "Again, as far as we know, they have retreated all the way home so, for now, no threat at all."

  "So we only really need worry about Marka and any new Emperor," remarked Kana.

  This time, Nazvasta really smiled. "No, we really need to worry about all of them," he replied. "You never know when circumstances might change. And they can change with amazing speed, as you already know."

  "Then I have to keep watching and listening," said Kana. "Can we ever stop?"

  Nazvasta shrugged. "The day you stop is the day you die," he replied. "As Fareen will grow fond of reminding you, the only constant in life is change."

  "Then let us hope that change affects us for the better," said Kana. She tapped the can. "More alovak?"

  ***

  Fareen sat up in bed. She blinked in the darkness and almost uncovered a light crystal, before deciding she had no need for a light.