Markan Empire

  The universe came into being when the Creator destroyed the cosmic egg and ended the eternal equilibrium. And the universe had tried to regain that stability ever since. All of life strived and struggled for a return to that equilibrium.

  Such ideas sent sylphs running. So how much of her was really sylph? Worse, how much of a sylph could be regarded as natural? These questions had troubled her for almost three centuries.

  But these questions had no practical application to her problem right now. How could she best ensure a smooth transition from a caretaker sylph to a permanent human Emperor?

  She wished she had another experienced gwerin to talk to.

  ***

  Sallis ti Ath always planned ahead. Even after putting a plan into motion, he still prepared, ready to make alterations or even abort an action as the situation demanded. The unexpected always cropped up at the most inconvenient times, else it would not be the unexpected. And a lack of preparation often killed.

  Ti Ath had not quite worked out how to deal with Petan, the Eldovan criminal he'd been paid to catch.

  He expected the man to have associates. He more than half expected that Petan reported to a higher authority, rather than operating under his own initiative.

  The unexpected part was that he reported to a respected Councilor. Ti Ath now needed to learn whether Brendin was the head of the traitors, or whether there were more associates. Or even if he reported to someone with more authority than himself.

  As always when Oston gave him a commission, it had a lot more to it than expected. Ti Ath didn't know if that was a talent, or merely coincidence.

  Of course, he could just hand Brendin's name to Captain Crallin and let him discover where his information led. Even though technically illegal, the City Guard was not above using certain... methods... to get information. Nor were they stupid enough to break a man so he would tell his captors anything, just to stop the pain.

  As the man fell outside the terms of his contract, ti Ath finally decided to turn Brendin in to the City Guard. Ti Ath had spent too many years working for free in the hope of better rewards in the future.

  Exploitation lay down that road.

  He would concentrate on Petan.

  Ti Ath had already followed Petan and one companion to Mercer Street, but the man didn't live there. Several streets away, in the middle of Jewelers' Row, Petan had taken a small cottage.

  Inconspicuous and easily overlooked, but for one thing.

  Ti Ath stood outside Jewelers' Row, watching the only house with a red door. A foolish choice in his opinion. Most cottages had green doors and Petan should have chosen one of those.

  Ti Ath considered breaking in, but he would be overheard; these small workers' cottages were rarely soundproof. Before turning Brendin over to the Guard, he must deal with Petan, or he would melt away.

  Petan spent a lot of time in the cottage, probably lying low. People came and went. Though passing humans ignored Sallis, sylphs eyed him curiously, aware of his presence and wary of his motives.

  Thankfully, Petan despised sylphs, so Sallis doubted the man used them for spying or information. Even so, discretion suggested he should move on.

  Ti Ath walked away, making small amendments to his plan.

  ***

  Petan could not shake off the shivery feeling that somebody watched him. It felt like an itch or a dirty touch. He could not settle.

  The aftermath of killing bothered some people this way, but these things no longer bothered him. In his younger days, sleepless nights and guilt wracked him after an assassination, when he believed his victims were watching him. Now, he no longer cared if a target deserved to die or not.

  Life and death were so random.

  "The City Guard are running around with their heads stuck where the sun never shines," said his companion.

  Petan smiled. Little more than a street tough, Shar enjoyed watching the authorities struggle. His dead eyes hid a surprising level of intelligence and the man was no fool.

  "Good. If they feel the killings are random, they have no chance of finding out who did it."

  Shar shrugged. "Perhaps. They will notice the missing report. Somebody told him to write it."

  "No way they can tell if he even began it."

  Shar shrugged. "Either way, they look pretty clueless to me."

  "Just the way we like them."

  "What's next?" Shar grinned. "More to die?"

  "We wait, that's what's next," answered Petan. "We'll get more instructions in a day or so. More traitors, I hope."

  Shar's eyes regarded Petan cautiously. The Markan knew his presence here could be construed as treason. Petan must choose his words carefully. Bright enough to recognize expediency, Shar could be dangerous if he decided to turn to the authorities for help...

  Petan did not want to feel those large hands around his own throat. Shar had proved his worth, being one of the few who never batted an eyelid over a dead sylph. Most Markans were far too sentimental when it came to sylphs.

  He wouldn't mind betting that the City Guard was angrier over the dead sylph than their dead sergeant or missing report.

  A strange people.

  ***

  Ti Ath spotted Shar walking alone. Once he shared the same street as the man, he was not hard to see, for most people gave the tough a very wide berth. That did not bother ti Ath; he could move faster, much faster, if needed.

  Shar's pale blue Markan eyes flickered in ti Ath's direction when he fell into step with him.

  "What do you want?" he growled. The man clearly did not know him.

  "I've been told to warn you that the City Guard are hunting you. They have no names, so far as we know."

  "Who told you to find me?" Shar made no effort to hide his suspicion, which helped men like him stay alive.

  "Ask for no names; we all live longer that way."

  "Brendin was it?"

  Ti Ath looked all around. "Careful, man! If the wrong ears hear that name..."

  "Well, I doubt if the City Guard have got much evidence to string us up," said Shar. "To string anyone up."

  Ti Ath nodded. "Maybe. But they want to lynch whoever killed the sylph."

  Shar raised an eyebrow. "So long as they get the right one of us," he said. "I killed the man, not the sylph."

  Ti Ath nodded again and hid his elation. He had the information he wanted and, much as it pained him, he could leave Shar alone. "Safer if you make sure Petan gets the blame for both of them," he said.

  Shar nodded. "All right. You've given me your message, now go."

  Ti Ath melted back into the crowd and put two streets between them.

  Now he had everything he needed.

  ***

  Marcus stood in the window and looked across the city. Zandra stood a little behind him, but Jenn was between him and the window, arching her back against him as he ruffled her hair. Though her back faced him, Marcus saw her smile of pleasure reflected in the window glass.

  "Still no news from Kelanus," said Zandra. "Sure there are enough sylphs to relay messages?"

  "Plenty. What news Kelanus has instructed them to pass on, however..." Marcus shrugged. "For now, the less the better. We don't want to learn that he's disobeyed orders too soon."

  "If he's disobeyed them at all," returned Zandra. "The rumors from Re Taura may be right, so he might have gone there."

  "He took enough scouts to warn of that, too."

  "Not if he runs down the Western March."

  Jenn turned her head and sighed in pleasure as Marcus caught an earpoint. Her owner looked down and smiled, tickling the eartip. It twitched and flickered in return.

  "Marcus?" Zandra did not approve of what his ministrations were doing to the sylph and pretended not to see.

  "Hmm? If he runs down the entire March, then there is a reason. More likely that Treylfor and Indelgar will run up the March than Kelanus will run down it. He knows what he's about."

  Zandra admitted that was probably true.
br />   Jenn made a small sound of protest as the ear tickling came to an end.

  "We're ready for alovak," Zandra told the sylph with a smile. "Nicely brewed, please."

  Jenn failed to hide a hurt look, before padding out of the room.

  Marcus laughed. "What's wrong with Jenn's alovak?"

  "Nothing." Zandra sniffed. "But you shouldn't carry on like that with her."

  "Like what?" Marcus raised an eyebrow.

  "You know what I'm talking about. Earpoint tickling." Zandra gave him a level look. "It's immoral."

  "Nonsense." Marcus waved a dismissive hand. "She's not a breeder. She works hard and deserves some pleasure now and then."

  "There's pleasure and pleasure."

  Marcus raised his hands in surrender. "All right. Next time I'll send her to you and you can do it instead."

  "That's not funny." Despite herself, the corners of her mouth turned upwards.

  "Jenn deserves some relaxation."

  "You speak as if I drive her to the edge." It was Zandra's turn to be defensive. "I'm hardly pushing her."

  "Of course not. But you know how she is when I spend time with you and the children."

  Zandra pursed her lips. She knew all too well. Jenn had worked out ways to monopolize time with her owner and was a very good sulker when those plans went wrong. The small sylph obeyed Zandra's commands to the letter, if not always the spirit.

  Jenn resented the time her owner spent with Zandra, but she never showed jealousy towards the children, or of the time Marcus spent in their company. But she had learned ways to out-child them. Very sweet, if irritating.

  Although much too late to worry now, Zandra felt it would have been so much better if Jenn had not been given to Marcus until after he had married, the usual custom in Calcan. Even though that would mean a different sylph belonging to Marcus.

  Well, what had happened had happened. Marcus got his sylph way too young and, when Zandra had married him, she had to accept Jenn as part of the package.

  But Zandra should not feel that she was the interloper.

  "Jenn must realize that your first duty is to your family," she continued. "We all recognize she's part of the family, but she cannot have you all to herself."

  "She knows that." Marcus smiled. "But she's not the only one who is jealous. Tickling her ears does no harm. She's not a breeder, it's different."

  Zandra sighed. She would never win this argument. Jenn returning with the alovak ended it anyway.

  ***

  Alone with Marshal Mikhan Annada, Zenepha scrubbed a hand across his face as he took his seat. The old human laid several letters in front of him.

  "The latest intelligence from Sandester," said the Marshal.

  The sylph scanned the letters as quickly as he could. Three were from agents in Taura, the fourth a letter from Nazvasta.

  "So an invasion is imminent," said Zenepha.

  "Certainly looks that way."

  "So you were right to ignore Kelanus."

  "Everybody makes mistakes." Mikhan smiled. "Kelanus does not know everything. And Marcus's agents have never sent a word."

  "So far as we know."

  "All right, let me put it this way. If they have sent word, Marcus has kept the information to himself. Which suggests that my scenario is correct."

  "Where is Kelanus now?"

  "Hopefully lurking close to the Trenveran border." Mikhan shrugged. "We can expect squawks of protest from them any day now."

  "So long as the squawks do not turn into stabs and piercings of protest," remarked Zenepha. "We have got enough to do as it is, without adding more enemies to the mix."

  "Trenvera are very aware of the threat. After all, they're the ones who brought our attention to it in the first place." A twinkle entered Mikhan's blue eyes. "They might be so grateful for Markan help that an accommodation might be reached with them."

  Zenepha barked a laugh. "I think we have pulled in all the prefectures that are easy to get," he replied. "The rest will be hard work from here on."

  Mikhan nodded. "Perhaps."

  "And few will be happy to see a sylph ruling them."

  "Your Majesty should stop thinking like that." Mikhan moderated his tone. He had no wish to be sharp. "You have done an excellent job so far. There has been hardly any trouble and certainly no agitation against you. Not from Sandester, anyway."

  Zenepha gritted his teeth. There it was again. A not-so-subtle political statement.

  Look how Sandester supports you, with the implication that Calcan did not.

  He suspected only his presence on the Throne kept one Vintner faction from the other's throat.

  He changed the subject. "Now, do you know where Treylfor and Indelgar have marched off to? It's time to put them on a shorter leash and..."

  When the time came, Zenepha hoped this Markan Empire would not collapse when he abdicated.

  ***

  While waiting for Petan, Brendin Jendran glanced out of his window. He wondered why he had not seen the guardsman who usually passed his house at this time. Delayed, or was there a more sinister reason?

  He remembered from his time in the City Guard that the patrol routes were amended on a fairly regular basis. Perhaps another reason for the delay?

  Before long, Petan tapped at the back door and a wary Brendin let him in.

  "Something is wrong?" Petan was if nothing perceptive.

  Brendin nodded. "The guardsman hasn't passed the house yet. Didn't happen to see him on your way here?"

  Petan shook his head. "Is it important? The man may be getting disciplined or something. He might be ill, beaten up or otherwise inconvenienced."

  "They would send someone else."

  "Well, keep an eye open while you say if there's anything for me."

  Brendin kept throwing glances out of the window. "Neither Dervra nor Nicolfer have been in touch. So nothing new."

  "Another wasted journey." Petan smiled to take the edge of his words. "Want me to keep laying low?"

  "Yes. Wait, make your regular contact. It can't be too long before the Eldovan army tries again. They can't be far away now."

  Petan inclined his head.

  "Now you are here, can I offer alovak?"

  ***

  Guardsman Lieutenant Patisk watched Councilor Brendin's house and waited for dusk.

  "You sure the information is good, sir?" pressed his sergeant.

  "Certain." Few knew of ti Ath's existence and what he did for the City Guard. Patisk had joined that small group.

  "That's a Councilor's house after all, sir."

  "I know that, Sergeant Kayen. He's a suspected traitor, remember?"

  "I hope so; if the information's dud, it's your balls that get cut off. Sir."

  Patisk ground his teeth. If the information was wrong, it would certainly be the end of his career. Brendin would never forget such a slight, nor the officer who commanded the men who arrested him.

  Though he did think his anatomy would remain complete.

  "Like to say that any louder, sergeant? I don't think he heard you."

  Kayen chuckled. He glanced over his shoulder at the four men with them. "We should send two around the back, sir. Stop anyone fleeing that way. "Specially if he's got a visitor."

  "We're going in through the front, Sergeant. The briefing was quite specific."

  Kayen sucked in air noisily. "Sounds like we want one of them to get away, sir."

  "Captain Crallin has a reason, Sergeant."

  "Even so, sir, I reckon we should –"

  "Shush!"

  Both men pressed themselves deeper into the shadows as Brendin's front door opened. The guardsmen behind tensed.

  A man with a large beard fanning across his chest left the Councilor's home and walked away. He looked suspiciously in all directions, but did not see the guardsmen hidden in shadow.

  "That's the one the captain wanted to get away," whispered Kayen. "Now can we send two men around the back?"

  Patisk pau
sed, then decided it was worth the gamble. "Very well, Sergeant. One minute, and we bring him in."

  ***

  Captain Crallin's reason waited two streets away.

  Sallis ti Ath knew Petan would not go straight home. He always called into several establishments on his way to sample the local brews.

  A mistake, in ti Ath's opinion. Alcohol dulled the brain and slowed reactions, which always gave the advantage to a sober adversary. Petan's over-confidence in his own abilities bordered on stupidity.

  Ti Ath skulked in an alley opposite the first alehouse, The Royal Scepter. He watched Petan leaning against the bar, where he enjoyed two tankards before leaving.

  Avoiding everybody else, Sallis followed at a discreet distance. At least there were no more sylph beggars; they were always a problem when he wanted to be unnoticed. He never could hide from them.

  Petan's stride was unaffected by the ale he had just drunk, but ti Ath knew more would come. The man enjoyed liquid refreshment, even when he should be more vigilant than usual.

  Petan rather sensibly avoided two men brawling in the street – the Guard would be along soon to sort them out – and ti Ath also walked wide. He kept well back from Petan, just in case the man decided to be aware of his surroundings.

  Not once did he look over his shoulder. Arrogance. Just because there had been no tail from Brendin's home, it did not mean that there was no tail now.

  Ti Ath kept a wary eye open behind. He doubted if Shar was out this evening, but he kept glancing around, just in case. It would be embarrassing if he got caught the same way he planned to catch Petan. Such things were bad for reputation and business.

  The next establishment was The Pick and Plough, where Petan spent yet another half-hour and consumed two more tankards. More of his senses would be dulled by now, despite the man's size. He might even look sober when he left, but he would not be. Not for long, anyway.

  After The Pick and Plough, came The Forester. Then The Pearl Queen. Followed by The Farrier's Hammer, which sounded more like one of the brews than a drinking establishment.

  Ti Ath was quietly impressed by the amount Petan could hold. He still looked sober, despite all he'd had to drink.

  Finally, minutes before curfew, Petan drained his last mug at The Drayman's Arms. He caught the edge of a table as he left and apologized to the men sat there. They glared, but said nothing after one look at Petan's shoulders.

  As his target staggered from the Drayman's, the hunter followed discreetly. Petan obviously looked for a quiet corner or dark alley and ti Ath smiled to himself.