"Only one thing."
"And that is?"
"If you are so sanguine about our chances—"
"Well?"
"Why is it that Sethra Lavode seems so disturbed?"
Khaavren frowned. "Does she, indeed?"
"So the Lord Morrolan has told me."
"I must admit that I have not the least idea in the world."
Upon leaving Her Majesty, Khaavren, guided once more by Sethra the Younger, made his way out of doors, where, amid the growing chaos of the encampment on the slopes of Dzur Mountain, he managed to find a face he recognized.
"Your name is Fentor, is it not?"
The other signified that this was, indeed, his name.
"And you have a cache of weapons?"
"A few, my lord. Most of them are not yet—"
"Any pikes?"
"Pikes?"
"Pikes."
"Well, yes, I believe there may be a score or so."
"Where?"
"I will show you."
"Lead on, then, and I will follow."
"Here, this is what we have."
"These will do nicely," said Khaavren, taking two of them. "And may I have the use of some of your troops?"
"As many as you wish."
Khaavren thanked the general (for this was now his rank, although his actual position in the chain of command was, as yet, unclear) and, in a brisk walk through the camp, found two soldiers, whom he caused to follow him.
As they walked, he said, "Do you swear to serve the Empire, the Empress, and the Orb, to the extent of your lives, if need be, and to obey all orders from your superior officers that do not conflict with your duty to the Empire?"
"Well, that is to say, yes, my lord," said one.
"Certainly," said the other.
Khaavren nodded and, this time being able to find his way by himself, soon arrived once more at the door to the Empress's chamber. He gave a pike into the hand of each of them, accompanying it with these words: "Remain here until relieved, and let no one enter without permission of Her Majesty. I will arrange for a schedule of replacements, and a lieutenant or a sergeant. Until then, do your duty."
"Yes, Captain."
"Yes, Captain."
This accomplished, Khaavren set about the tasks he had just outlined, which tasks the reader may assume he accomplished with his usual efficiency.
Having now seen our friend Khaavren, the reader may be wondering about Sethra Lavode, from whom we have not heard in some time. What is passing in the mind of the Enchantress, now that we have, on two separate occasions, heard that she has certain concerns which indicate knowledge not shared by those around her?
It was to discover this, in fact, that she received a visit at nearly the same moment Khaavren was setting the guard for the Empress, this visit being from none other than our friend Tazendra—or, as we ought to call her now, Tazendra Lavode, dressed in the traditional Lavode uniform of severe black, without embroidery, ornament, or garnish.
Tazendra found her with no difficulty in one of the lower chambers of Dzur Mountain, a wide, cavernous room which showed every sign of its origin—that is, that it had been cut out of the very rock of the mountain. The Enchantress was, just at this moment, standing between two silvery stalagmites—or so, at least, they appeared—one hand on each. Her eyes were closed in concentration, though, to Tazendra's glance, she showed no signs of being engaged in any great effort. Nevertheless, effort or none, each of the stalagmites was progressing through subtle but unmistakable color changes: silvery, to a flatter grey, to a reddish tinge, and then to an orange which became stronger until it was unmistakable. As Tazendra had not the least notion of what these colors meant, nor, indeed, of the nature of these apparent stalagmites, we are unable to provide this information, about which we admit to as much curiosity as the most inquisitive of our readers.
Soon, the Enchantress became aware of a presence in the room, and she opened her eyes. The stalagmites at once lost their color, returning to the silvery sheen they had first emitted, and Sethra smiled at Tazendra, saying, "Ah, my friend, it is good to see you."
"I hope I am not disturbing something urgent, madam."
"Important it is, my dear Tazendra, but not urgent. I am plugging up certain ethereal holes, through which beings of whom we are both aware have been attempting to gain entry."
"I beg your pardon, my dear Sethra, but that sounds tolerably urgent."
"Not so much, now that the Orb is back. The Jenoine are strong, but slow."
"I bow to your knowledge, good Enchantress," said Tazendra, suiting her actions to her words.
"But what brings you here?"
"Something important," said Tazendra, "though not urgent."
"Ah, you are becoming a wit!"
"Do you think so?"
"I am convinced of it, my dear Dzurlord."
"Well, I give you my word, it was not done on purpose."
"Oh, I have no doubt of that. But you needn't worry, there is no harm in it."
"You are certain?"
"Entirely. Many people have become wits without the least unpleasant effect, many of them Dzur. Indeed, the exercise of wit has often led to the exchange of blows, and is, even when it has not, a happy precursor to singing steel."
"Well, if you assure me of this, I shall not be vexed at it."
"That is right. But tell me, what is this matter that is important but not urgent?"
"There have been rumors, my dear Sethra, that your words and countenance are not reassuring, in the matter of Kâna's plans, and this at a time when, it seems to many of us, we are on the verge of gaining a great victory."
"Well, and then?"
"Instead of listening to these rumors, and engaging in speculation that might create confusion and false impressions, I had the notion to come to you and frankly inquire about it—a notion which I have just this instant put into action, as you, no doubt, perceive."
"My dear Tazendra, that was well thought!"
"You think so?"
"I am convinced of it. You are turning into a wit, and, moreover, you are becoming clever."
"Well, but—"
"No, no. It is completely harmless, I promise you."
"It is good of you to reassure me."
"It is nothing. But whence come these rumors? That is, who has observed this supposed anxiety on my part?"
"Oh, I have heard it expressed by Morrolan, Lady Teldra, Pel, the Empress—"
"The Empress?"
"She made some remark to that effect, unless my understanding is at fault, which I confess may be possible."
"Come then, my friend, let us repair upwards to Her Majesty at once, and I will explain my thinking to her. If she has made this observation, then it would be best if she were aware of my thoughts on the matter, so that she is better able to make the decisions that, as Empress, she is required to make."
"Splendid, my dear Sethra. Lead, and I follow you."
"Very well."
The Empress was either unoccupied when they arrived, or else she decided that whatever was required by the Enchantress was of more moment than her activity; in any case, they were at once bid to enter by the guards whom Khaavren had posted at the door.
The Empress rose as they entered, acknowledged Tazendra, and bowed deeply to the Enchantress.
"My dear Sethra," said Zerika. "I am glad you are here. There is something on my mind, and it is exactly you who can answer my questions."
"You wish to know," said Sethra, "why, at this time when everything appears to be going so well, I seem to be more anxious than ever."
Zerika's eyes widened. "How could you have known that? Ah, but I forget who you are. But come, you have stated the question; please sit down, and, if you will, be so good as to answer it."
"I shall do so at once."
"But not before sitting down, I hope."
"I but await Your Majesty."
"There, I am sitting."
"As am I."
&nb
sp; "And I," added Tazendra, not to be left out.
"This is it, then," said Sethra.
"I am listening," said the Empress.
"As am I," said Tazendra.
"It is, then, simply this: I have spent some hours closeted with our good Yendi."
"The Duke of Galstan?" said the Empress.
"Pel?" said Tazendra.
"Yes, that is how he may be called."
"Well, and what of it?"
"Of him, I have learned somewhat of the character of this pretender."
"Well, that seems time well spent. Indeed, I ought to have thought to do the same. But, what have you learned?"
"That he is a determined fellow, courageous, with a certain amount of skill in organization, but no imagination."
"Well, but that does not seem bad."
"It is not, insofar as it goes. But does it not raise a question in your mind?"
"No, it does not, except that I wonder how such a fellow could have been so successful up to this point."
"That was the question it raised in my mind."
"Well, but did you answer it?"
"The Duke of Galstan did, when I posed it to him."
"Ah!" cried Tazendra, admiringly. "That is Pel! I recognize him so well in that!"
"What was his answer?" asked the Empress.
"It is simply this: Kâna has a cousin."
"Very well," said Tazendra, unable to contain herself. "He has a cousin. But my dear Sethra, this is not remarkable. Many people have cousins. I had a cousin myself, only he was killed attempting to climb Dzu—that is to say, he died on a quest."
"Yes, but this cousin, the Marchioness of Habil, is everything that Kâna is not: she has foresight, a certain kind of wisdom that is able to see letters writ large, and she is not afraid to make plans another might consider daring, even grandiose."
"Well, attacking the Orb could be considered daring, and to rebuild the Empire without having it might be considered grandiose."
"Exactly. Moreover—"
"Yes?"
"She has imagination."
"Oh, from what you have said, that goes without saying."
"And, as Galstan spoke of her schemes, how she would conceive them, plan them, and execute them, I heard something in his voice that frightened me."
"Well, what did you hear?"
"Admiration."
"Ahh," said the Empress. And, after a moment's consideration, she added, "I see."
"I asked our good Yendi if this Habil was capable of launching—or causing her cousin to launch—an attack such as we have just withstood without having other schemes and alternatives in mind in case the attack failed. He replied that she could not."
"And therefore," said the Empress, "we may conclude that Kâna has alternate maneuvers, and that these alternatives are, even now, being prepared or executed."
"Exactly."
"And so we know of what some of these schemes might consist?"
"Your Majesty—"
"Well?"
"I have not even so much as a guess. And that is exactly what worries me."
Chapter the Sixty-Fourth
How Zerika Marched to Adrilankha
It was on a Farmday in the late winter that Zerika began her famous march to Adrilankha. To be precise, it did not begin as a march to Adrilankha at all. Instead, after having considered carefully what she had been told by the Enchantress, and after consultation with Khaavren, Morrolan, Fentor, and various other advisers, she made the decision (which Khaavren, for his part, heartily approved) to take the army, which was now, in its entirety, camped on Dzur Mountain, and attempt to brush aside the advanced elements of Brawre's forces that were, in her words, "close enough to our front door to give me the itch."
The expedition was far more successful than even Khaavren had hoped. Not only was the advanced brigade brushed aside (it was, after all, heavily outnumbered), but the efficiency and skill with which the advance was handled, and the speed of the advance, caused such fear and consternation among Kâna's army that he, being uncertain what he was up against, was forced to order a general retreat. Now Kâna had been, in a sense, far too successful until this point. That is to say, he had never, even in defeat, been forced to make a retreat, and therefore did not know how to carry one out. Moreover, his two generals, Izak and Brawre, were young, and inexperience is nowhere taxed more heavily than in attempting to pull back a large army in the face of a strong and determined enemy. The Necromancer and the warlock Brimford added their own skills, as did Sethra the Younger, Tazendra, the Sorceress in Green, and even Morrolan; the result, then, was that Izak very nearly lost his entire army. Khaavren, though at first worried about a trap (the victory had been too easy for his comfort), at length became convinced of the true state of affairs, and urged Morrolan (who had become, by this time, the commander of the foremost division) to press on. We need hardly add that Morrolan required very little urging on this point.
The second day, Zerika, upon learning what was happening, decided that she would accompany the army. When it was suggested to her by Khaavren that this might put her in a certain amount of danger, she observed that the presence of the Orb could not but serve to improve the morale of the army.
"I do not dispute Your Majesty on this point," said Khaavren. "And yet, it seems to have become my duty to protect you, and therefore I must make these observations."
"I understand, Captain. You have done your duty, and I have made my decision."
Khaavren bowed and accepted it. The Empress then summoned Morrolan to her. Morrolan brought himself to Dzur Mountain (having spent much of the last days in a determined study of sorcery, he was able to perform this thaumaturgical feat himself), where Zerika informed him that, as far as she could determine, and pending a meeting of his House, he was Dragon Heir to the throne, which meant that, as the Dragon was to be the next House, he had certain duties to fulfill in terms of making himself familiar with the Orb.
"Is it a position," he inquired, "that I am able to refuse?"
"No," she said. "But it is possible that my understanding is incomplete, and you are not next in line. But, from what the Orb tells me, of the four Dragonlords with a better claim than yours, three died in Adron's Disaster, and the fourth was disqualified by your House over some sort of impropriety."
"I will investigate, once matters become more stable."
"In the meantime, you can be addressed as 'Your Highness.'"
"Must I?"
"Well, not if you choose not to be, I suppose, save on certain occasions at court."
"A court which does not yet exist."
"That is true."
"I should much prefer, as I understand these matters from Lady Teldra, to be Warlord."
"I have offered that position to Sethra Lavode."
"Well, I cannot doubt her qualifications, but is it not true that she feels herself confined to Dzur Mountain for now?"
"For the most part. But I feel, nevertheless, she will make a better Warlord from Dzur Mountain than anyone else in the field."
Morrolan sighed and said, "Alas, I cannot dispute with you on this point."
"Then it is settled. And, as to there being a court—"
"Well?"
"I am now on my way to create one."
"Where?"
"I have settled on the port city of Adrilankha."
"Is it not subject to attack by reavers from Elde?"
"Perhaps. But our roads are in such poor condition that, for now, I believe it would be best to govern from a place where communication by sea is easy—that is to say, from a port on the ocean-sea."
Morrolan bowed, and said, "How do you intend to get there?"
"The army is marching now, and I do not believe that there is anything that can stop us."
Morrolan left Her Majesty's presence, and, upon leaving the room, found himself face-to-face with Khaavren, who bowed and said, "Two words with you, sir, if you please."
"Two words?" said Morrolan. "That is
not so many. How are they divided?"
"Why, one each, upon two different subjects."
"Very well, then, let us hear the first word."
However sanguine the Empress may have been about her own safety, Khaavren was required by his post and by his sense of duty to be less so—there were, therefore, a thousand things to arrange, all of them focused on what was now his primary concern: the protection of the Empress.
With this in mind, he said, "The first word concerns the posting of my company of guardsmen, which I should like to place, for the most part, directly behind your division, but in front of Her Majesty. This will necessarily entail a gap in the ranks sufficient to permit the dust to settle—for, you perceive, Her Majesty cannot be expected to eat the dust kicked up by your infantry."
Morrolan, who had never previously considered this matter, said, "Very well, I see no trouble with this. What then?"
"Then it is only a question of insuring good communications between your division and my corps, so that this gap in the lines cannot be used by anyone thinking to make a direct attack upon Her Majesty, and also of providing certain mounted outriders to guard against the same thing."
"Very well, I will have Fentor speak with you on this subject. What is your second word?"
"My second word concerns certain looks I may have given you on the occasion of our first introduction. It occurs to me that you may have found these offensive, and, if so, I will observe that I should wish to delay any discussion of this matter until Her Majesty has arrived safely in Adrilankha."
"Ah. You wish to play, then?"
Khaavren shrugged. "In fact, I do not. I lost interest in such games several hundreds of years ago. But, if you wish to play, I will certainly agree to entertain you."
Morrolan frowned. "You must understand, good Captain, that I have not long been in these lands, and, where I was raised, matters are arranged in a rather simpler way."
"How, then, are they arranged?"
"If someone offends me, I pass my sword through his body, and then the issue is settled."
"Well, in fact, sir, I believe there is a great deal to be said in favor of such a custom. It saves time, and is easily managed, and anyone left standing is able to devote his energy to other concerns, rather than considering games to be played in the future. But then—"