"Welcome home, Udaar, and welcome to you as well, Your Highness."
"Thanks, Rink."
Illista bowed.
"I take it," continued Hirtrinkneff, drawing Udaar aside as Nywak loaded the trunks onto the wagon, "that the crossing was not unpleasant, and that all is as His Majesty wished?"
"I have a certain soreness in my throat, but, beyond that, all is well."
"A soreness in your throat? I assume from the salt air, or the coolness of the vapors you inhaled?"
"Perhaps. But I suspect more because our guest required me to speak at every stage of the journey, explaining to her as much of the situation in the Empire as I could manage. She wished to know the extent of devastation caused by the plagues and by the Reavers, the numbers and strength of opposing forces, the attitudes of the Princes—many things which I could not have answered if I had wanted to, and many which I could only answer in guesses, and some of which I was required to evade; but at no time was I permitted to stop talking."
"Ah. Well, I have just the thing for you. My grandmother taught me an infusion of herbs that is put into hot water along with lemon and honey that will, without question, remove any pain in the throat. I shall have it prepared when we make our first stop."
"Apropos, when will that be?"
"Almost at once. It is full night, and I should prefer travel by day; hence we will rest at the Cliffside, which is not five miles from here."
"Very well. And, as I perceive the trunks are now loaded, let us proceed."
"I agree."
They arrived within a few hours, and there passed the remainder of the night, as well as, after making special arrangements with the host, several hours the next day, after which they made their way further up the coast, stopping next, as chance would have it, at the town of Merinna. We hope the reader has had, or will have, the chance to visit this village—of course, we entertain no doubt that the reader has at least heard a great deal about it. In either case, there is no call to describe the low, trim multi-colored brick houses of the "berjeses," nor the elegant shops that attract so much attention, nor the famous smiling constabulary in their well-known yellow tunics and twirling their wands of authority. All of these things are real, so far as they go; and Merinna is, in the opinion of this author, every bit as pleasant a resort town as one could hope to find.
Indeed, the greatest point of interest is how Merinna survived the Interregnum so nearly intact—that is to say, how it suffered so little from the depredations suffered by those around it. The answer lies in the place we have just quitted: the Island of Elde. For six thousands of years before Adron's Disaster, Merinna had been under the unofficial protection of the Kings of Elde, who had, in many ways, created the village to have a hospitable landing site on the mainland for visits ceremonial and personal. The Kings of Elde, therefore, saw no reason to withdraw their protection from this little parcel of coast simply because of certain unpleasantness within the political confines of their large neighbor across the water. The royal court of Elde, therefore, let it be known to those Reavers who used the Interregnum and the harbors of Elde to launch excursions against the coast of Dragaera that Merinna and its environs should be left unharmed. They even went further, and would from time to time send over provisions to stave off the famines, and even medicines to provide some relief from the plagues.
So, as it was before the Interregnum, it was, in large part, during the Interregnum, and still is today—and the reader knows well enough of how very few things this can be said. They spent the night, then, in Porter's, and broke their fast on the fruit muffins for which that hostelry is so justly renowned, as well as klava, which Illista had not tasted since leaving the Empire.
"And now," said Illista, as she finished her repast, waited on by the ubiquitous Nywak, "I assume we at last leave the coast, and make our way inland to meet with His Majesty?"
"Soon," said Udaar. "There is a small matter to attend to first."
"A small matter? Well, then let us dispose of it at once; you perceive I am as impatient as a three-year-old at the pole."
"Then I will be as brief as the report of the starters whip."
"I ask for nothing more."
"Before leaving the island—"
"Yes, before leaving?"
"—Your Highness did me the honor of mentioning that you had certain matters still to consider before accepting our proposal."
"You have a memory like an athyra."
"I must now, before bringing you further, ask whether Your Highness has completed these contemplations."
Illista looked at the Dragonlord carefully before saying, "You are more than a messenger, aren't you?"
Udaar bowed his assent.
"Very well," said Illista, when no other words were forthcoming. "I have completed my contemplations, and I have no objections to make to His Majesty's plan."
"Then we are agreed?"
"You have my word."
"I ask for no more. We may now set out at once."
"Do you know," remarked Illista, "I have always desired to see this town, for I have heard so much about it, both in the old days, and then again from the Court at Elde."
"You were, then, acquainted with the Court at Elde?"
"I came there first when I arrived upon the island, and I asked for sanctuary. I was told, 'We have a large island, madam, you my live where you choose.'"
"He said that?"
"His very words."
"Was he aware that you had been in the Imperial Court? That you were, moreover, a close relative of His Imperial Majesty then on the throne?"
"I had explained those matters upon arriving."
"Some might consider this an insult."
"Nearly."
"Indeed, an insult to the Empire itself."
"That is my opinion; I am glad it coincides with yours."
"Oh, it does. And, moreover—"
"Yes?"
"It is my opinion that His Majesty ought to be informed of this."
"It is no secret."
"And, once the details of securing the Empire are concluded, well, we shall see."
"Yes, that is—but wait."
"Yes?"
"Where are we going?"
"Going? Why, toward the Palace, of course."
"But—ah, I had forgotten. The Palace, the city is no more."
"You speak of the old Palace, the old city."
"Yes."
"You must understand, that was before my time."
"That is true. Your pardon, I was confused. Where is the new Palace to be, and the new Imperial city?"
"For now, Hartre, or, rather, a small village not far from Hartre, where you are to await the result of certain negotiations. That is where we are now going. Later, it will be moved to Adrilankha."
"Adrilankha? That is in the county of Whitecrest, and I do not think His Majesty will have the support the Countess of Whitecrest—we were on tolerably poor terms when I quitted the court."
"I perceive you have not been entirely out of touch with matters while you were away."
"Not entirely."
"She was later exiled from court herself."
"Was she? That does not displease me."
"And to answer your point—"
"Yes, the answer?"
"I believe that, when the time comes, the Countess of Whitecrest will not present a problem."
"Very well, I will accept that. Then we are now bound for Hartre. Well, that it is a tolerably long journey, and so I will prepare myself for it."
"That is best, I assure you."
"You have been to Hartre before, my dear Dragonlord?"
"Never. And Your Highness?"
"Yes, several times."
"Perhaps Your Highness would be good enough to tell me of it, as we travel."
"If you would like."
In this way, several hours passed in pleasant enough travel, because Udaar, in fact, truly wished to know about Hartre, whereas Illista, for her part, truly
enjoyed speaking before an attentive audience. They spent that evening at a run-down hostelry on the road, where the host, grateful for the custom, made every effort to make his guests comfortable in spite of the condition of the inn, and the next day they continued on the road.
"You seem lost in thought, my friend," said Illista.
"Well, I am."
"And might I inquire as to these thoughts?"
"Well, I will explain, and, once I have done so, you will see at once why I am thinking my own thoughts."
"Bah. As if you could think another's!"
"I mean that I am thinking thoughts that I do not wish to share, that is all."
"I understand that, only the expression is absurd."
"I do not deny that."
"Very well, explain then."
"Explain?"
"Explain what has caused you to think these thoughts you do not wish to share."
"Very well. If all is on schedule—"
"Yes? If all is on schedule?"
"Today is the day His Majesty's forces should be attacking Dzur Mountain, and, therefore, today is the day that the Orb will fall into his hands, and the Empire will be secured. Now do you see why I seem busy with my thoughts?"
"Yes, I understand completely. It will be annoying to have to wait several days for messengers to arrive with the results of the battle."
"It will not be so long. With the Favor, we should know quickly enough."
"How is this possible?"
"Can you be unaware that the Orb has returned?"
"You mentioned something of this fact, yes."
"Well, but can you be unaware of the sensation of its presence?"
"Nearly. I have had no sensation of citizenship since my exile."
"Ah. Well, His Majesty will remedy this situation."
"That is good."
"For now, you must understand that I am very much aware of my own citizenship, and there will be no difficulty to communicate with His Majesty on the results of the battle."
"Ah. I see what you mean. But then, if the battle is not successful—"
"Not hearing of the results will tell us the results."
"Yes, I understand. And then?"
"If that is case, you have been asked to remain at the hostelry toward which we now drive until we get a message to you."
"Very well. And do you know what this message will be?"
"Not precisely, Your Highness, but I have been given to understand that Habil—"
"Who?"
"Kâna's cousin."
"Very well."
"I have been given to understand that Habil has developed what she calls 'contingencies' and that you are part of these."
"It is good to have contingencies, and I have no objection to being included in them, provided, of course, that they do not preclude me from getting what I want."
"They will not, I am convinced of it."
"That is good," said Illista. Then she frowned, and said, "Contingencies."
"Madam?" said Udaar.
"If the attempt to take the Orb by military means should fail for some reason…"
"Yes, if it should?"
Illista shook her head, and didn't answer, being busy, for some time, with her own thoughts.
Chapter the Fifty-Third
How the Old Question of Whether
The Ends Justify the Means Is Debated
Again, This Time With the Unique
Perspective Of the Lyorn Expounded
Upon in Some Detail
This was the situation as the next day's morning filtered gently through the Enclouding: Kâna's forces, under General Brawre, had reached a position a hundred or a hundred and ten miles west of Dzur Mountain. Kâna's other army, led by Izak, was, at this time, camped just outside of the village of Nacine, which the reader may recall as being on the very doorstep, as it were, of where Morrolan was causing his temple to be built. Also in Izak's camp that morning was Kâna himself, and the small detachment under Tsanaali. Zerika and our friends had arrived where they had planned, in a place that was also just outside of Nacine, and, in point of fact, less than ten miles from Izak's outposts.
Morrolan stood upon the roof of the temple he was causing to be built and studied the work Fentor had done and listened patiently while his commander explained the use of the ditches, scaffoldings, buttresses, and other devices of modern military science that this worthy had arranged in only a few days. At last, the commander said, "Well, my lord? Is that sufficient?"
"For what?" asked Morrolan.
"For your understanding."
"Not the least in the world," said Morrolan. "But it is of no matter. You say it will do, and I believe you."
"I did not say it would do."
"Well, will it?"
"No, but it is the best that can be done."
"Very well."
"Then Your Lordship still intends to attack them?"
"I do. And if we must then retreat, well, we now have fortifications to retreat to."
Fentor bowed, accepting the inevitable. "And may I suggest—"
"Yes?"
"When the battle commences, this will be an excellent place from which to observe."
"Oh, as to that—"
"Well?"
"I think the front line will be better."
"My lord? You intend to lead the troops personally?"
"How not?"
Fentor hesitated. He could hardly explain that Morrolan was insufficiently skilled at generalship to be entrusted to make decisions in the field. He cleared his throat and said, "And yet, a position in the rear is better for receiving communications and making decisions."
"In that case, my dear Fentor—"
"Yes?"
"As you know this business better than I do, I would suggest that you position yourself here."
"How, me?"
"And why not?"
"Because, my lord, my place is with the men engaged in battle."
"Just so," said Morrolan.
"And yet, should you be killed—"
"Well? If I am killed, will that make you less able to make decisions? On the contrary, I should imagine that you might better be able to make decisions without my interference."
Fentor cleared his throat again, as this was uncomfortably close to his own thinking. He said, "If you believe that, my lord, why not—"
"Because it is my army, my fief, and my responsibility. Therefore, so long as I live, the mistakes will be mine."
"I hope there are none, my lord."
"I hope so too. Because, understand this: We are not setting out with the intention of fighting a gallant fight and losing. On the contrary, we are setting out with the intention of winning."
"My lord—"
"Well?"
"I do not know if this is possible."
"We will see. Be clear on this: I will do anything that is necessary to win. Anything."
"That is but natural, my lord."
"Then you agree?"
"We cannot fight with the intention of losing. And, if we wish to win, all else follows."
"I am glad we have an understanding on this matter. As you are insistent upon being at the battle, I will wish to have you next to me to advise me."
"Very well, my lord."
"Are we, then, prepared?"
"The men are ready to move, if that is Your Lordship's meaning."
"And we know where the enemy is?"
"We do."
"Then let us go there and fight him."
"I shall give the order, my lord."
"On your way, have Teldra, Arra, the Warlock, and the Necromancer sent to me, and have someone saddle my horse."
Fentor bowed and retired to carry out his orders. Presently, those Morrolan had named had joined him upon the roof of the temple. Morrolan studied them for a moment, as if searching for the words he required. He coughed in confusion, then said, "Arra, is everything arranged?"
"Everything," she said, "except that we do not kno
w when we are to begin."
"As to that," said Morrolan, "word will reach you."
"Very well," she said. "We will be ready."
"And you," said Morrolan, addressing the Warlock. "You will travel with me?"
"Gladly."
"And be prepared to aid me as we discussed?"
"Certainly. I have nothing better to do."
Morrolan turned to the Necromancer and said, "Well?"
"Lord Morrolan?" said the addressed demon in tones simulating human curiosity.
"Will you aid me?"
"My lord, it was for this purpose that I was sent here."
"How, to aid me?"
"To aid in the restoration of the Empire. That is, the Gods sent me to aid Sethra Lavode, and she, in her turn, sent me here to aid you."
"You were sent by Sethra Lavode?"
The Necromancer bowed her assent.
"And she pretends that fighting this battle will aid in the restoration of the Empire?"
The Necromancer again indicated that this was, in fact, the case.
Morrolan considered these remarkable revelations, after which he said, "Then you are at my orders?"
"Entirely."
"That is well, then. I have nothing to say about this Empire, I have not given it full consideration. But I have no interest in bending my knee to this Kâna, whoever he is, and moreover, I feel a certain fondness for Sethra Lavode. So, then, do you recall our last conversation?"
"As if it had taken place yesterday, my lord."
"The Gods! I hope so, because it did take place yesterday."
"Ah. Did it, then? I beg your pardon; time sometimes confuses me."
"In any case, you remember the conversation, and that is all that matters."
"Yes, my lord."
"Good, then. As for you, my dear Teldra—"
"Well?"
"You will remain here, and see that all is in order, in case we must retreat."