‘The date of commencement?’
‘Not stated. The main problem is the supplies. And the problem with the supplies is the state of the roads. No one can predict when winter will end.’
‘And what else did Vattier speak of?’
‘He complained, poor thing,’ Cantarella said flashing her teeth. ‘The Emperor humiliated him again and rebuked him. In front of others. Again the reason was the mysterious disappearance of Stefan Skellen and his entire department. Emhyr publicly called Vattier incompetent and said that he was a head of a service that instead of making people disappear without a trace, are surprised with the disappearances. He constructed on this topic a malicious pun, which Vattier could not accurately repeat. Then the Emperor jokingly asked Vattier if this means that there is another secret organization in this country, concealed even from him. He is cunning, our Emperor. He was close.’
‘Close.’ Assire murmured. ‘What else, Carthia?’
‘The agent who Vattier put in Skellen’s band and who disappeared along with him, was named Neratin Ceka. Vattier must value him very much, because he was extremely angry about his disappearance.’
I, too, thought Assire, am furious by the disappearance of Jediah Mekesser. But I, unlike Vattier de Rideaux, I will soon know what happened.
‘And Rience? Vattier did not contact him again?’
‘I think not. Vattier did not mention it.’
Both were silent a moment. The silence was broken by Assire’s cat purring loudly.
‘Lady Assire.’
‘Yes, Carthia.’
‘Do I have to play the role of the silly lover for a long time? I would like to go back to school, to devote myself to scientific research…’
‘Soon,’ interrupted Assire. ‘A little bit longer. Hold on, girl.’
Cantarella sighed.
They ended the conversation and said goodbye. Assire var Anahid’ cat jumped from the chair and she began to read the letter from Fringilla Vigo again, who was in Toussaint. She remained lost in thought. This letter was the cause of her restlessness, hiding between the lines, Assire felt, was some significance that she had yet to decipher. It was long after midnight when Assire var Anahid, Nilfgaardian witch, set up the megascope and established a telecommunication to the castle of Montecalvo in Redania.
Philippa Eilhart was in a short nightgown with thin straps and her face and neck had traces of lipstick. Assire, with a great effort of will, contained an expression of displeasure. Never, ever, will I understand this. And I do not want to understand.
‘Can we speak freely?’
Philippa’s hand made a sweeping gesture. And she surrounded herself with a magic sphere of discretion.
‘Now, yes.’
‘I have information,’ Assire said dryly. ‘By itself, it is not revolutionary, gossip from rural farmer’s wives around a well. However…’
‘All of Redania,’ Esterad Thyssen said, looking at his map, ‘can at this moment enlist thirty-five thousand line soldiers, including four thousand heavy cavalry. In round figures, of course.’
Dijkstra nodded. The figure was quite accurate.
‘Demavend and Meve had an army like that. Emhyr broke it in twenty-six days. The same will happen to the armies of Redania and Temeria, if not quickly reinforced. I approve of your idea, Dijkstra, yours and Philippa Eilhart’s. You need soldiers. You need experienced cavalry, well trained and well equipped. You need horses more than a million lintars.’
The spy nodded confirmed that this calculation was beyond reproach.
‘As you no doubt know, however,’ the king continued dryly, ‘Kovir always was and always will be neutral. A treaty binds us to the empire of Nilfgaard, signed by my grandfather, Esteril Thyssen and the Emperor Fergus var Emreis. The letter of the treaty does not allow Kovir to support the enemies of Nilfgaard with military aid. Neither money nor troops.’
‘When Emhyr var Emreis is finished with Redania and Temeria,’ Dijkstra cleared his throat, ‘he will look north. Emhyr will not have enough. It may be that your treaty will soon not be worth a damn. Not long ago we talked about Foltest of Temeria, who treaty with Nilfgaard served to not buy him more than sixteen days of peace…’
‘Oh, dear,’ Esterad smiled. ‘Such arguments I cannot in good conscience accept. Treaties are like marriage: you cannot enter into it with the idea of possible treachery, there is no place for suspicion. And those who don’t like it, should not get married. Because you cannot be stags without being married, but I admit that the fear of the horns is a rather ridiculous and pathetic excuse for forced celibacy. And the horns of marriage, do not touch on the subject of ‘what if’… As long as there are no horns, it does not touch on that subject, and if they do, then there is no talk about it. Speaking of horns, how’s the husband of the beautiful Marie, the Marquis de Mercey, Minister of Finance for Redania?’
‘Your Majesty,’ Dijkstra bowed stiffly, ‘has enviable informants.’
‘Certainly, I do,’ acknowledged the King, ‘you would be amazed at how many and how honorable. But you also should not be ashamed of your own. Those who you have in my palaces here and in Pont Vanis. Oh my word, each of them deserves the highest honor.’
Dijkstra did not even blink.
‘Emhyr var Emreis,’ Esterad continued, looking at the nymphs on the ceiling, ‘also has some good, well established agents. So I repeat – for reasons of state Kovir neutrality is the principal pacta sunt servanda. Kovir does not violate treaties. Kovir does not violate even to precede the violation of the treaty by the other party.’
‘I dare to notice,’ Dijkstra said, ‘that Redania does not urge Kovir to break the treaty. Redania is in no way seeking an alliance or military assistance from Kovir against Nilfgaard. Redania wants to… to borrow a small sum of money that they will return…’
‘I don’t see,’ interrupted the king, ‘how you are going to return it as we are not going to lend you a penny. And spare me the hypocritical maneuvers, Dijkstra, because you are stuck like a bib to a wolf. Do you have any other arguments, serious, intelligent or accurate?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
‘You’re lucky that you became a spy,’ Esterad Thyssen said after a pause. ‘In trade, you would not have made a career.’
Since the world began, all royal couples have had separate bedrooms. Kings – with very different frequencies – have visited the rooms of the queens and there are instances where the queens have unexpectedly visited the rooms of the kings. Then the couples went off to their own chambers and beds.
The royal couple of Kovir in this regard were an exception. Esterad Thyssen and Zuleyka always slept together in one bedroom in a huge bed with a huge canopy.
Before bed, Zuleyka put on glasses, something she was ashamed to show in front of her subjects and read the Good Book. Esterad Thyssen usually talked. This night was no different. Esterad put on his nightcap and took his sceptre in hand. He liked to hold the sceptre and have fun with it, but did not do so in public because he feared his subjects would call him pretentious.
‘You know, Zuleyka,’ he confided. ‘Lately I have had strange dreams. Several times I have dreamed about my mother. Standing over me and repeating, ‘I have a wife for Tankred, I have a wife for Tankred’. And she shows me a nice but very young girl. Do you know who the girl is, Zuleyka? Ciri, Calanthe’s granddaughter. Remember Calanthe, Zuleyka?’
‘Of course I remember, my husband.’
‘Cirilla of Cintra,’ Esterad continued talking, playing with the sceptre, ‘is said to be chosen to marry Emhyr of Nilfgaard. The Emperor’s intention surprised everyone… How the devil, could she become Tankred’s wife?’
‘Our Tankred,’ the queen’s voice was soft as always when talking about her son, ‘needs a woman. Perhaps if he settled…’
‘Maybe,’ Esterad sighed. ‘Although I doubt he can. In any case, marriage has a chance. Hmmm… This Ciri… Ha! Kovir and Cintra. The mouth of the Yaruga! It sounds good. Not a bad marriage… No
t a bad alliance… But if Emhyr has his eye on the little one… Only, why did she appear to me in my dreams? Why the devil did I dream this nonsense? At the equinox, you remember, I woke up then too… Brrr, what a nightmare, I’m glad that I cannot remember the details… Humm… Do I still call on an astrologer? A soothsayer? A medium?’
‘Lady Síle de Tansarville is in Lan Exeter.’
‘No,’ the king frowned. ‘I do not want that witch. Too smart. She is becoming another Philippa Eilhart! These wise women smell of too much power, you cannot embolden their privileges or trusts.’
‘As always, you’re right, husband.’
‘Hmmm… But these dreams…’
‘The Good Book,’ Zuleyka turned a few pages, ‘says that when humans sleep, the gods will open their ears and speak. Meanwhile, the Prophet Lebioda teaches that seeing a dream, you see either great wisdom or great folly. The important thing is to know how to recognize it.’
‘The marriage of Tankred to Emhyr’s promised bride seems like no great wisdom,’ Esterad sighed. ‘And speaking of wisdom, I would be very happy if it came to me in a dream. It is the thing for which we gave been visited by Dijkstra. It is a difficult issue. Because you know, my dearest Zuleyka, there is no reason to be happy that Nilfgaard will be coming north to conquer Novigrad any day. From Novigrad everything, our neutrality looks different from the far South. It would be good if Redania and Temeria contain the advance of Nilfgaard and turns the assault back to the Yaruga. But would it be right to do so with our money? Are you listening, dear?’
‘I hear you, husband.’
‘And what do you say?’
‘All wisdom is contained in the Good Book.’
‘And does your Good Book says we would get a visit from Dijkstra asking for a million linters?’
‘The book,’ Zuleyka blinked from behind her glasses, ‘does not say anything about unworthy mammon. But in one passage it says that it is more blessed to give than to receive and helping the poor with charity is noble. It says – give to all, and it will make your soul noble.’
‘And great dinners fill graves,’ Esterad Thyssen murmured. ‘Zuleyka, apart from the passages that deal with the noble soul, does the book share some wisdom on business? What does the book say, for example about exchange of equivalent?’
The queen adjusted her glasses and quickly flicked through the pages.
‘And they gave to Jacob all the strange gods, and Jacob hid them.’
Esterad was silent for a long time.
‘Or perhaps,’ he said at last, ‘something else?’
Zuleyka returned to searching the Good Book.
‘I found,’ she soon announced, something in the wisdom of the prophet Lebioda. Shall I read it?’
‘Please.’
‘And the prophet Lebioda says: indeed, give to the poor in abundance. But instead of giving to the poor all the melon, give him only half a melon, to the poor it will seem like luck.’
‘Half a melon,’ snorted Esterad Thyssen. ‘You mean half a million linters? You know, Zuleyka that having half a million and not having half a million, it all adds up to a million?’
‘You did not let me finish,’ the queen chided her husband with a stern look over her glasses. ‘The Prophet Lebioda continues – it is even better to give the poor a quarter or a melon. And the best part is to get someone else to give a melon to the poor. Because I tell you that there is always someone who has a melon and is willing to give to the poor – if not from generosity, then for calculations for very different reasons.’
‘Ha!’ The King of Kovir struck his sceptre on the nightstand. ‘Indeed the prophet was a smart guy! Arrange to have someone else give instead on me? I like that, those are truly golden words. Search the wisdom of that prophet, my dear Zuleyka. I’m sure you will still find something that will allow me to fix my problems with Redania and the army Redania wants to organize with my money.’
Zuleyka turned the pages in the book for a while until she finally started reading.
‘One day one of the Prophet Lebioda’s disciples came to him and said – Advise me, Master, what shall I do? My neighbor wishes for my favorite dog. If I give him my pet, my heart will break with grief. If I do not give it to him then he will be unhappy because my refusal will hurt my neighbor. What should I do?’Have you something,’ asked the prophet, ‘you love less than your beloved dog?’ I have, Master, replied the disciple, a stray cat, a wicked pet that I have never loved. And the Prophet Lebioda said – ’Take your stray cat and give it to your neighbor. In this case you’ll find happiness twice. You get rid of the cat and your neighbor will rejoice. Because most of the time, the neighbor will not be pleased so much with the gift, but knowing that he was gifted.’
Esterad was silent for some time, his forehead wrinkled.
‘Zuleyka?’ he asked at last. ‘Is that the same prophet?’
‘Take the stray cat…’
‘I heard the first time!’ cried the king, but immediately recovered. ‘Forgive me, my dear, the thing is I do not understand what cats have to do with it…’
He fell silent. And fell into deep thought.
After eighty-five years, the situation had changed so that people could speak on certain matters without fear, and could speak of Guiscard Vermuellen, Duke of Creyden, grandson of Esterad Thyssen, son of his eldest daughter, Gaudemunda. Duke Guiscard was already a gray-haired old man, but the events he witnessed, he remembered well. It was indeed Duke Guiscard who revealed where the one million lintars came from with which the Redanians used to equip it cavalry for the war with Nilfgaard. The one million did not come, as expected, from the treasury of Kovir, but from the chief of Novigrad’s coffers. Esterad Thyssen, revealed Guiscard, got the money from Novigrad for their participation in newly formed overseas trading companies. The paradox was that those companies had been formed with the active cooperation of Nilfgaardian merchants. The venerable Duke’s revelations therefore showed that Nilfgaard – to some extent – had helped pay to organize the Redanian army.
‘My grandfather,’ recalled Guiscard Vermuellen, ‘said something about melons, smiling slyly. He said that there will always be ones who want to give to the poor, even if only from calculations. He also said that since Nilfgaard itself is helping the strength and fighting capacity of the Redanian army, they could have no complaints about others.’
‘Then,’ the old man continued, ‘my grandfather called father, who was then the head of the intelligence and Interior Minister. When he found out what his orders were, he fell into a panic. The order was to release from prison, internment camps and exile more than three thousand people. In addition, hundreds were to have their house arrest lifted.’
‘No, it was not just thieves, common criminals and hired mercenaries. The amnesty covered all dissidents. Among those affected by the amnesty were the supporters of the deposed usurper King Rhyd. The Interior Minister was shocked and very worried about his father.’
‘Meanwhile,’ the Duke said, ‘grandfather laughed as if it was the best of jokes. And then he said, I remember every word, ‘It is a great shame, gentlemen, that you do not have such bedtime reading as the Good Book. If you did, you would understand the ideas of your monarch. And so you will follow your orders, not understanding them. But do not worry unnecessarily, your monarch knows what he does. And now go and release all my stray cats and wicked pests.’
‘That’s what he said, stray cats and pests. And so it was, that no one could know, they would became future heroes and warlords in glory and fame. These ‘cats’ of grandfather were the famous condottieri – Adam ‘Adieu’ Pangratt, Lorenzo Molla, Juan ‘Frontino’ Gutierrez… And Julia Abatemarco, who became famous in Redania as ‘Pretty Kitty’… You young people do not remember, but in my day, when we played war, every kid wanted to be ‘Adieu’ Pangratt and every girl wanted to be Julia ‘Pretty Kitty’… And for grandfather they were the sly cats.’
‘Then,’ Guiscard Vermuellen murmured, ‘grandfather took me by th
e hand and led me to the terrace, where grandmother Zuleyka was feeding the seagulls. Grandpa said… said…’
The old man slowly and with effort tried to recall the words that eighty-five years ago Esterad Thyssen said to his wife, Queen Zuleyka, on the terrace of the palace of Ensenada, high above the Great Canal.
‘You know, my dearest wife, I’ve seen another wisdom from the Prophet Lebioda? One that will still give me an advantage over having donated my cats to Redania. Cats, my Zuleyka, come home. Cats always come home. And when my cats return, bringing home their wages, their booty, their riches… I will tax those cats!’
When King Esterad Thyssen spoke one last time with Dijkstra, he did so alone, without even Zuleyka. On the floor of the giant ballroom, was a ten-year-old boy, but he did not count because he was so busy playing with his tin soldiers to pay attention to any of the talking.
‘This is Guiscard,’ Esterad explained, pointing to the boy with a nod of his head, ‘my grandson, son of Gaudemunda and that rascal, Duke Vermuellen. But this small child, Guiscard, is the only hope of Kovir if something was to happen to Tankred Thyssen… If something happened to Tankred…’
Dijkstra already knew Kovir’s problem and Esterad’s person problem. He knew something had already happened to Tankred. If the boyo had any talent at all to be a king, it was to only be a bad king.
‘Your business,’ Esterad changed the subject, ‘has been essentially settled. You can start reconsidering how to most effectively use the one million lintars, which will soon find its way into the Tretogor treasury.’
He bent down and picked up one of the garishly painted tin soldiers, a rider with a raised sword.
‘Take this and keep it safe. The one who shows you the second, identical soldier will be my messenger, despite his appearance, though you cannot lend credence to any of my men who know the business of our million. All others will be provocateurs and you have to treat them as provocateurs.’