Markan Throne

  Janin muttered and groaned. His breathing labored through his broken nose, and Stanak worried that the boy might drown in his blood.

  "I'm interested in hearing what's happened to you; I doubt if you've become a drinking partner of the people you're supposed to watch." Gray-blue eyes twinkled as Stanak stared at the prone form. He smiled as Janin's earpoints relaxed and his breathing evened out. The sylph now slept properly.

  Stanak looked around as Sandev joined him.

  "Caya's insisting on hot water," she said.

  "Is she heating it now?"

  Sandev nodded.

  "The boy's asleep. With luck, it'll have cooled off by the time he wakes." Stanak suppressed irritation. Caya belonged to Sandev, not him.

  "Has he said anything?"

  "Nothing worth repeating." The man looked down at Janin again. "He's only just gone to sleep."

  "They tried to drown him." Sandev's voice was very quiet. "Marlen believed he must be working for me, so he tried to kill him."

  "Marlen's probably intelligent enough to know it takes longer to drown a sylph than a man," said Stanak, after considering Sandev's theory.

  "He probably uses others to do his dirty work and they're not necessarily as bright as him."

  Janin turned in his blanket, muttered and fell asleep again. Both humans watched anxiously. Sandev laid a hand on the sylph's forehead.

  "He feels all right," she told Stanak. "No long term harm has been done. Cuts, and a lot of bruises..." Her mouth twisted in distaste. "They tortured him! Poor Janin."

  "His usefulness as a spy is at an end," pointed out Stanak. "We must find him other employment."

  "I have just the thing in mind." Sandev smiled. "Let me know when he wakes."

  ***

  "Dogs?" Marcus Vintner raised a quizzical eyebrow.

  Guard Commander Mansard nodded. "That's what Ean's report says. The commander of today's caravan also passed it on from his sylph. Ean and two others found an infertile being chased by a dog from Hingast's camp. It was being trained to flush out sylphs. Ean spoke with the girl before releasing her."

  "Are they intended to harm the scouts?" Olista attended the meeting, supposedly to deal with keeping the city supplied with enough food and water.

  "Apparently not." Mansard grimaced. "It might be better if that was the intention. Subtlety is not a virtue I normally associate with Hingast."

  "Captured so information can be extracted from them." Olista looked concerned that the advantage of sylph scouts might suddenly dissipate. "And when the sylph has outlived his usefulness?"

  Marcus gave a sour grunt. "Hingast hunts sylphs for sport. That's what he regards as the real advantage."

  "Is the report accurate?" asked the Supreme Councilor, quietly. "You've all heard of Tervan Whispers?"

  Principal Chancellor Lanas nodded his agreement. "A line of people where the first whispers a story or instruction to his neighbor, who then whispers it to his neighbor, who then..."

  Marcus smiled. "Yes, the story at the other end of the line is quite different, isn't it?"

  Lanas smiled and inclined his head.

  "That will not happen here," continued Marcus. "There is a reason why we are happy to send partly trained sylphs into the field. Even though they cannot compose a message, they can certainly pass one on. Tervan Whispers holds good for humans, not sylphs. They can listen to and repeat instructions, orders, commands, messages, whatever, without dropping a single word, or even altering it in any way. Hum or whistle a tune to a sylph, and he can hum or whistle it back, bar perfect, months later."

  "Months?" Olista and Lanas looked equally surprised. And impressed.

  Marcus spread his hands. "It's why they make such good scouts. Let them know any moves you plan to make with your army, and they will be able to find you for as long as the information is good. If the message is that Hingast trains dogs to find sylph scouts, then that is exactly what he's doing."

  Zandra noted the reaction of the others with satisfaction. Didn't these people know their own sylphs?

  Jenn, as usual with her owner at these meetings, gave the other humans a curt nod, pleased that the doubters of the sylph scouts' abilities had been comprehensively defeated.

  Verdin interrupted. "I trust that caravan is the last, Guard Commander Mansard," he said quietly. "Hingast can't be far away now."

  "The last from Calcan," said Mansard. "The scouts report that most other caravans from Sandester have turned back."

  Verdin changed the subject. "I hear there are one or two problems with the rallying points."

  Mansard smiled. "Since Lance Captain Kestan took charge, all the glitches have been sorted. Every external patrol now has two scouts with it and there are more with each rally point. Even better, they can be moved as the situation demands and the scouts can whistle reports to each other easily."

  Marcus nodded. "Now that the scouts are properly distributed, we get reports quicker. Life's so much easier when we know what's going on around us."

  "So we know all about Hingast's position and speed?" pressed Verdin.

  "We do. And how many men and war machines he has. And how far behind his reinforcements are. Looks like he brought the bulk of his army with him."

  "How far?"

  Marcus looked very serious. "He should arrive outside the gates within the next three days."

  ***

  Zenepha's earpoints strained towards the music. His head leaned to one side as he listened to the flute. The music came from his bedchamber, which meant Djerana kept his wife company. He paused outside the door to listen a few moments longer, before pushing it open.

  The ilven had her back to him, but the music stopped abruptly as she became aware of his presence.

  "Please carry on," he begged, as Djerana twisted around on the floor to look at him.

  Selkina nodded her agreement as her husband moved around the musician to join her on the floor.

  With a hint of a smile in her emerald eyes, Djerana bent her head to her flute and continued to play. The music tugged at every emotion, changing from joyful to sorrowful, desolate to hopeful, angry to calm, all within a few bars. Zenepha wondered how she did it. She either knew this music by heart or made it up as she went along. He suspected the latter.

  As the tune came to an end, both sylphs clapped their hands. Djerana looked startled for a moment before recovering her composure.

  "Beautiful," breathed Selkina.

  Zenepha nodded agreement.

  Djerana blushed, then abruptly changed the subject. "How is everything? Is His Majesty pleased with the progress made?"

  "Please do not call me that." A pained expression crossed the sylph's face. "My name is Zenepha and we are alone. Besides, you are an ilven."

  Djerana smiled. "Zenepha."

  "Very pleased. The Vintner armies make life easy. The city is as defensible as it can be. I only wish I could do more in a direct sense."

  "From what I know of humans – and sylphs too – just having a leader is enough for them to follow." The ilven's eyes glittered. "You know they brought me here to attach myself to Marcus Vintner. Much as he interests me, seeing a sylph as Emperor, ruling humans... If nothing else, my attachment to you is purely voluntary."

  A delighted smile spread across Zenepha's face. His earpoints went bolt upright and twitched in pleasure at her remarks. But he gave the ilven a quizzical look. "There is still time for you to leave the city. I doubt if Hingast will prove very friendly toward you."

  "Abandon you? Certainly not. Besides, the Father will guard me." Outrage flickered in Djerana's eyes. Perhaps at the suggestion she should leave, showing that he doubted her loyalty.

  "As you wish." Zenepha nodded.

  He had heard ilven were timid creatures who usually avoided involvement in human affairs. However, he had just learned they did not lack courage. And other people claimed ilven were the Father's warriors, though he found it hard to reconcile that image with the creature sat before him.
r />   "I must meet with all my advisors after eating," he continued, changing the subject. "And after that, I must meet the Principal Chancellor and his ministers. Care to join me?"

  Djerana pulled a face. "If it helps remind them that you're in charge and no longer 'just a sylph', then I'll come with you."

  Zenepha's silvery gray eyes shone with gratitude. "Thank you," he said. "Now, I would very much like to relax. I think some of your beautiful music will help me."

  The ilven nodded and raised flute to lips again.

  ***

  He stayed safely out of sight here, but he had a good reason to watch the sylphs training below. Even if seen, his presence would not be questioned.

  Sixty or so sylphs exercised in the large yard. He had no interest in the females, but he enjoyed watching the males. Mostly wild sylphs, with a smattering of volunteers from the city, learning how to be scouts.

  An involuntary shudder rippled through him as he watched sylph muscles flex beneath exposed skin. Tightening and loosening as they exercised. Not bulging muscles as humans might boast, but sinewy and strong nonetheless. His breathing quickened as his gaze slid lower, to areas covered by breeches. He knew what lurked there of course. His hand trembled on the knife he always carried.

  Resist the urge. Resist.

  His teeth locked together and his lips curled in a rictus of a smile. He could not indulge; he must not indulge. Far too long since the last one fell to his knife. The ecstasy of watching willingness to please turn to realization and horror. So pliable, so submissive, so eager to obey. Even to demands they knew would disgust their owners, even to demands that made them nervous. Until they saw the knife.

  None tolerated that. All attempted escape. Years before, those who were not pretty enough for him were forced to flee a hunter and none returned. After his service changed, he became the hunter and stole the property of others. They were not abused in the way most sylphs would accept, however reluctantly. That would be disgusting. His hand trembled on the knife again.

  Resist the urge. Resist.

  He hated loose ends. Years before, he had been caught and forced to flee. He would never repeat the mistake.

  Eyes closed, he tipped his head back and his tongue protruded between his teeth. Fear turning to realization and finally acceptance as the lifeblood drained away. Blue, sticky blood that smelled no different from human blood. The last shivers, the final breaths. Then stillness. A need sated. Until that need dominated his thoughts again, and demanded fulfillment.

  Resist the urge. Resist, resist, RESIST!

  His eyes snapped open and his gaze returned to the yard below. Most sylphs down there were ownerless. They might make more interesting prizes. Some were pretty, very pretty. Too pretty for masculinity. That was wrong and it must be put right. His hand trembled on the knife.

  Resist the urge. He must resist the urge.

  ***

  Stirring, Janin pulled the unfamiliar blanket around himself. He had chewed one corner to sogginess; he vaguely remembered poking it into his mouth. A flush of embarrassment rose in his cheeks; he had not indulged such childish behavior for years. His head felt like someone swung a smith's hammer against it and he suspected something furry grew inside his mouth. Or had crawled in there to die.

  Aching all over, his skin felt sticky. He had difficulty breathing through his nose, with one nostril completely blocked. Pain pounded through his head and a groan escaped his lips. The pain meant he still lived, but that might not be a blessing.

  "Awake at last."

  Janin blinked and turned his head. "Stanak-ya?"

  "Yes lad, me."

  "He tried to drown me," whispered the sylph. "In beer."

  Stanak's gray-blue eyes twinkled with amusement. "Sounds like a waste of perfectly good beer to me."

  "Not the best. I drank as much as I could." Why did everything hurt?

  "The City Guard brought you," continued Stanak. "She wants to question you when you feel up to it."

  "Sandev-ya?"

  "Sandev-ya." Stanak patted Janin's hand. "Don't worry, she'll be gentler than your last questioner."

  "He tried to kill me."

  "Can't know much about sylphs, or he might have made a better job of it."

  Janin tried to smile, but only managed a grimace. "Can I get up?" he asked.

  "Of course. Your old things have been burned; Sandev has supplied replacements. You'd better be grateful."

  The sylph swung out of bed and placed both feet on the floor, wincing in pain. Certain that the floor would not suddenly move, he stood, swayed briefly, then steadied himself. His hand went to his neck. No collar.

  "Where are these new clothes?" Janin looked around.

  Stanak smiled again. "On the other side of a bath. Sandev wants you smelling sweet so you don't offend Caya's sensibilities."

  "You are going to bath me?"

  Stanak chortled and stroked his neck. "No, I'm far too squeamish. Caya is going to bath you."

  Half an hour later, a considerably cleaner Janin, dressed in short breeches and shirt, reveled in the comfort of new clothes. A cord tied his long silver hair back. One hand touched his neck repeatedly; he felt naked without a collar, so unnatural to be without one.

  Though the pain had faded, his head still hurt. His cuts and bruises were clean; he would not have thought Stanak possessed a gentle hand. But all his bruises ached. And he wanted food.

  In Sandev's study, Stanak lowered himself into a chair. He accepted the proffered alovak and thanked Caya.

  Janin's gaze wandered leisurely around the room. All the walls were lined with the mysterious books in which humans stored their knowledge. The mysterious black lines and squiggles were meaningless to him. Rugs covered the floor, warm and comfortable to his tough bare feet. A clepsydra gurgled in one corner and startled him briefly. Two windows provided most light, as the light crystals placed in sconces around the room were covered, except for one at the side of Sandev's table, which glowed with a faint green light.

  His attention turned to Caya. He stood a little shorter, but he still had growing to do, whereas she was fully adult. She regarded him neutrally, an unimportant boy of no concern. Still an improvement on the expression of disgust displayed when she bathed him.

  Why did Sandev-ya have a female sylph as a personal slave, when most ladies preferred infertiles for the role? None of his business, so his question stayed unasked.

  "Better?" Sandev's speedwell eyes shone at the sylph.

  Janin nodded. "If sore."

  "Very sore, I expect. Come closer."

  Sandev beckoned and, as he stepped toward her, she leaned forward and touched his head. His eyes widened, tinged with fright, but that fear left him almost immediately, taking his pain with it. He glanced at Caya, who looked just as unsettled, then back again. He touched where some of his bruises had been, but found only unblemished skin and no unnatural tenderness. Air flowed through his nose as it should, and met no resistance.

  He smiled. "Thank you, donanya."

  "The least you deserve. I would have healed you sooner, but feared you might be too weak for it." Sandev sat back and changed the subject. "Did you discover why these men were staying at the Guildsman?"

  Janin shook his head. "They went out often, but they did not seem to be doing anything. Were staying at the Guildsman?"

  "They left," rumbled Stanak, ominously. "Once they realized you were a spy and decided to kill you, they moved to another safe house."

  "Safer house, as it happens." Sandev grimaced. "We have no idea where they are now."

  The sylph shrugged and spread his hands. "Nor me." He noticed Caya's disapproving glare and wondered why he felt disappointed by her reaction. "I can try and find out for you." No change in Caya's expression.

  "You're no longer any use spying." Sandev steepled her fingers and rested her chin on them. "What do you think the future holds for you?"

  Janin's eyes widened and his earpoints came bolt upright. He had assumed tha
t he would return to begging, but the question hinted at other plans. "I will become an even poorer beggar," he muttered. "And need to find a new pitch."

  Sandev laughed, a sound of delight that made him stare. Mockery?

  "Janin, Janin." She shook her head. "Your begging days are over." She leaned forward. "They know who you are now. Once they realize they failed to kill you, they'll return to finish the job if you're unprotected. And beggars are about as unprotected as it's possible to be."

  Janin blinked.

  Sandev continued. "The Emperor, bless him, wants to reduce the number of beggars on Marka's streets. The proximity of Hingast has slowed his original hope of getting people and sylphs out to farms, but there is demand for sylph scouts. If you like, I'll take you to the training area tomorrow morning. My only stipulation is that you belong to someone."

  Janin's hand again strayed to his uncollared neck.

  "I would like that very much," he replied. "But who will have me?"

  "You may wear my collar."

  Janin grinned and his earpoints twitched in happiness. "This sylph is most grateful."

  Caya sniffed and shook her head. Janin turned and grinned at the domestic slave. "Not jealous, I hope?"

  Sandev laughed.

  ***

  Zenepha looked around at the human faces. Olista sat to the sylph's right and Marcus Vintner to his left. Marshal Mikhan, General Ranallic and Guard Commander Mansard were present, and Captain Crallin of the City Guard. His Principal Chancellor and the five advisors he had appointed were there. Two freshly appointed Imperial Guardsmen stood at the doors, alert for any threat to the Emperor.

  Jenn went around the table and poured alovak, happy to wait on. It meant she stayed with her owner. Djerana smiled and nodded at all those who acknowledged her and managed an affronted look for those who did not.

  Zenepha held up a sheet of parchment while his eyes scanned it, reading the list of recommended rations. "You can reduce even further the rations for domestic sylphs."

  "Isn't that dangerous, Majesty?" Chancellor Lanas pursed his lips.

  "Not really." Zenepha twitched his earpoints. "We only slow down when food becomes scarce, and not die like humans. Not as quickly, anyway."

  Lanas inclined his head. "As you command."

  Marcus Vintner said nothing. When food became really scarce, even sylphs starved eventually, but they certainly lived longer than humans in the same circumstances.

  "I'm still not convinced that Hingast will attack us," announced Senator Maben, representing the faction that supported Hingast's claim to the Throne. "I believe he's coming here to state his claim and be treated on an equal footing with the two claimants already here."