“Very well, Garland; you may postpone your departure until to-morrow morning.”
“I obey, Sire. Will that be all?”
“Yes.” He made a dismissing gesture, at which time Garland bowed low and backed out of the room.
We will now, with our readers’ kind permission, leave the Emperor, who is, at any rate, going to do no more than finish some correspondence and then sleep; and follow Lord Garland, who is climbing up several flights of stairs and arriving in an unfurnished tower room, the very one, in fact, in which we were first introduced to the Athyra called Seodra. It should not, then, come as a complete surprise if we find, upon entering this chamber in Garland’s illustrious company, that Seodra is already there.
“You have something to communicate to me, Lord Garland?”
The Tsalmoth evidently feared the Athyra, for he was able to maintain his composure only with some difficulty. He did not speak, but instead handed to her the envelope he had lately been given. Seodra took it into her withered hands and studied it, then said, “What does this mean, Lord Garland?”
“I have been sent to bring this to Lord Adron; His Majesty has done me the honor to inform me that it contains an apology.”
“An apology?”
“Yes, your ladyship.”
“For what?”
“His Majesty regrets that he sent Lord Adron away this morning.”
“How, regrets?”
“He changed his mind about the Consort’s conduct.”
“That is apparent. But, why is he causing you deliver it? You are neither courier nor diplomatist.”
“I fear His Majesty is angry with me, and this is a punishment.”
“Then you have been discovered, haven’t you?”
Garland swallowed with some difficulty, and kept his eyes on the floor. “Your ladyship—”
“Well? You have been discovered, haven’t you?”
“You are a fool, and, moreover, you are clumsy.”
“I followed your orders, ladyship. I did the best—”
“Be silent. It is clear that you have bungled, or His Majesty would not have suspected what you were doing; and it seems certain that he does suspect, if he doesn’t know it for a fact.”
“What must be done now, your ladyship?”
“Well, have you not been given an order by His Majesty?”
“Yes, your ladyship.”
“Then you must carry it out. When are you to leave?”
“To-morrow morning, your ladyship.”
“Very well. You will do so, and, moreover, you will make such speed as no one has ever made before. Such is your zeal to carry out His Majesty’s orders, that you will, in fact, arrive before Lord Adron, who has a day’s start on you.”
“Very well, your ladyship. What shall I do when I’m there?”
“You perceive that I am writing something?”
“I do, your ladyship.”
“Well, I am writing three names, and locations where you can meet those to whom the names belong, and passwords with which to identify yourself. You are to memorize all of these things before you leave.”
“I will do so.”
“You will reach one or more of these people, and make certain arrangements with them.”
“Yes, your ladyship.”
“These arrangements regard the Tiassa and his friends, of whom we have spoken before. Do you understand?”
“Yes, your ladyship. Will they do as I say?”
“They will, if you are convincing. Here, this may help you to be convincing.”
“What is it?”
“The seal of Lord Adron e’Kieron.”
“The seal—! But how did your ladyship come to possess it?”
“That is not your concern, Garland. I have means, you need know no more than that.”
“Very well, I will use the seal as necessary.”
“When you have used it, you will return it to him, explaining that it was found in the apartments he used.”
“I will do so.”
She reached into the folds of her robe and emerged with a copper disk filled with peculiar engravings. “Do you know what this is, Garland?”
“No, but I hope your ladyship will tell me.”
“I will. If you think about me, and begin speaking into it—”
“Well?”
“Well, I will answer you.”
“Sorcery, your ladyship?”
“Exactly, Garland. Does that frighten you?”
“No, your ladyship.”
“You mean to say, I frighten you more.”
“Yes, your ladyship.”
“That is wise, Garland. Well, then, when you have reached Lord Adron, use it to speak with me. I may have more instructions for you then.”
“I will not fail to do so, your ladyship.”
“Good. Do you understand your instructions?”
“Memorize names, locations, passwords. Travel quickly. The Tiassa and his friends. The seal, to be used and returned. Deliver His Majesty’s message. Communicate with you.”
“Ah, apropos His Majesty’s message—”
“Well?”
“As you are returning the seal, it may be that you will forget to deliver the message.”
“Your ladyship!”
“We will see. If you forget, then, well, you can remember later, and no harm will come of it. I will let you know my decision on this when you are there.”
“I will obey, your ladyship.”
“Yes. Now get out of my sight.”
Lord Garland did not need to be told twice; he bowed to Seodra and fairly fled the room, returning to his own apartments to prepare for the next day’s departure. While he did this, Seodra sat for a while, considering what needed to be done, then summoned her servant and instructed him to find Lord Shaltre, who dwelt near His Majesty’s apartments, and beg him to return to pay a visit.
In due time, the Lyorn was announced. Seodra stood for him. “Well?” he said. “To what do I owe the honor of this request for an interview?”
“It is to this, Count,” said Seodra. “I have been thinking.”
“Well, I have been known to do the same, from time to time. To what have your thoughts led you?”
“They have led me a conclusion, Count, respecting yourself.”
“Well?”
“It has to do with history.”
“Oh, I have never studied history.”
“It might profit you to do so, Count.”
“In what way?”
“You might learn of a certain Lyorn advisor, who, discredited, betrayed another Lyorn, such that the latter had become, in turn, discredited, and, moreover, his family was ruined, and he ended by blowing his head off with a flash-stone.”
Shaltre took a moment to recover his composure, but he did so, then made a gesture of indifference. “An interesting story, your ladyship, but I fail to see how it concerns you or me.”
“You pretend, then, that you know nothing of this?”
“I have never heard of such a thing. No doubt the survivors of the discredited Lyorn have avenged him.”
“Not at all, for his family were all destroyed; the Lyorn was very thorough.”
“And yet, if any in the House knew of this—”
“None of his House do. Besides, who could challenge him except a warrior? And you must know better than I, Count, that no Lyorn warrior may issue a challenge to any of his House who has not also had that special training.”
“Well, that is true.”
“Unless it is a case of treason.”
“Which, according to your story, this was not.”
“It very nearly was.”
“How, giving poor advice?”
“There are times when giving poor advice can be very nearly treasonous, Count.”
The Lyorn shrugged: a gesture, in fact, much like one Aerich was fond of. Then he said, “Perhaps it was close, your ladyship, but I doubt it was sufficiently close for one of my House;
we are sticklers for such things. Besides, if, as you said, his family is dead, and no one else knows of it, this Lyorn, whoever he may be, is in no danger.”
“And, if his family is not dead?”
“Impossible.”
“I beg your pardon, Count, but it would appear that you do know of the incident after all.”
Shaltre flushed, then adjusted his robes and said, “I was assuming, since you say he was thorough—”
“And it may be that the incident is known.”
“By whom?”
“By His Highness Adron e’Kieron, Dragon Heir to the Throne.”
“Adron? He knows, you say?”
“He knows of the incident, but, as of now, none of the names.”
“How is this possible?”
“He was concerned in the battle that was won, and in the battle that was lost. He mislikes losing battles; therefore, upon losing the one, he investigated.”
“Well, and—?”
“He was not able to penetrate the secret; he was, however, able to come close.”
Shaltre shifted uncomfortably. “I fail to see how any of this concerns me.”
“You think it does not?”
“At least, I don’t see how it does.”
“Very well, then let us turn to another subject.”
“On the contrary, we should continue to discuss this until we have arrived at a conclusion.”
“How, if it doesn’t concern you?”
“I—that is, very well, then. I am at your service. What do you wish to discuss?”
“The successor to the late Marquis of Pepperfield.”
“Well? What about it? The successor has not been selected.”
“That is true. The e’Lanya line is interested.”
“That I know.”
“There is another person, also, who wants the post.”
“That being?”
“Adron e’Kieron.”
“Well, I hope that whoever is given the post is adequate.”
“Are you aware, Count, that the Marquisate of Pepperfield is a special position?”
“Indeed yes; it is appointed specially by the Emperor.”
“It is a position of great trust, Count.”
“Yes, and great responsibility, due to the number of invasions by Easterners which have occurred there.”
“Therefore, the Marquis is, by tradition, granted certain rights that few others nobles are ever given.”
“Such as?”
“The right to directly interrogate the Orb, in matters of history.”
“Ah.”
“It is necessary, for strategic reasons—”
“I understand, your ladyship.”
“I have reasons for wishing the e’Lanya line to be given this command.”
“Well, I will support you in this.”
“Support is one thing; now is the time for action.”
“I am not very active by nature.”
“No, but you have the ear of the Emperor, Count.”
“Well, I have that honor.”
“Unless you are in disgrace.”
“An hour ago I was; now I am not.”
“How is this?”
“It is unimportant.”
“Very well. It is true, then, that if you were to ask His Majesty to have certain persons arrested, he would be likely to do so.”
“Persons like His Highness Adron e’Kieron? It is not likely.”
“It is not of His Highness that I am speaking.”
“Well, then?”
“Certain individuals who are meddling in affairs that do not concern them, and who, if left to their own devices, might well bring about the triumph of the e’Kieron line.”
“Well, I understand,” said the Count.
“That is well.”
“If you will give me their names, I will ask His Majesty to arrest them.”
“You must do more than that, Count.”
“Oh?”
“They are far from here; in fact, they are on their way now to visit Castle Redface, the home of Lord Adron.”
Shaltre started. “But then, we are lost.”
“Not in the least, for they are traveling slowly, and you may be able to get there before them, or even a little after, which would be all right, I think.”
“And then?”
“Lord Garland will be on his way at first light; he will help you.”
“Help me?”
“You must do what is necessary.”
“I am not a fighter.”
“You need not be; Lord Adron has many troops.”
“How, Lord Adron? What would cause him to help me in this?”
“A few words from His Majesty commanding his cooperation.”
“His Majesty has retired for the night; I will not be able to see him until to-morrow.”
“That’s as it must be. Speed, as you know, is everything. You must prevail upon His Majesty to cause Lord Adron to cooperate with you, and then—”
“I must have these persons arrested.”
“That may not be sufficient; those who are arrested can be pardoned; and, even condemned, they may still speak.”
“Well, I understand. I will do what is necessary.”
“Very well, then, Count. I am pleased we understand each other.”
“As am I, your ladyship.”
While Count Shaltre prepares to visit His Majesty in the morning, with the intention of setting out immediately thereafter, we will return to those four intrepid Guardsmen to whose actions this narrative is devoted, in the hopes that our absence from them has been sufficiently brief that our readers will not have lost patience, and will furthermore trust that this digression, as it may have seemed, was in fact necessary if we are, by and by, to bring our history to a satisfying and elegant conclusion.
Chapter the Twenty-second
In Which it is Shown That Not Only
Historians Have Prying Ears
FROM THE GATE OF THE Flags our friends had traveled down the mountain to the small town of Everdim where they took their rest, and proceeded early the next morning, at a good yet not frantic pace, through the Flowering Valley, crossing the Yendi River at Flat-spot about noon of the following day, after which they began the trek through the pushta—that uncultivated, dry grassland around the edges of the desert of Suntra. We should say that this journey was made at the worst time of the year, that is, in the full heat of summer, but as the Guardsmen were not in an especial hurry, they stopped often during the worst of the heat and took their ease in the hostels of many of the villages on the pushta. At last they took the barge across the Adrilankha River at Guilrock Crossing and began to make their way slowly uphill again, as, even here, they were in the lap, as it were, of the Eastern Mountains where lay both their ostensible and their true destination. They continued in this manner—that is, making an easy pace and enjoying the journey—until they reached the mountain called Bli’aard and city of Bengloarafurd, which was less than a day’s ride from the mountain hold of the Redface, the castle and fortress of Adron e’Kieron.
Tazendra, who had begun the journey in a reflective mood, had apparently adopted Khaavren’s advice and by this time seemed to be enjoying herself thoroughly, ordering her lackey, Mica, about in fine style: which lackey, we should add, appeared to enjoy receiving the orders as much as Tazendra enjoyed giving them. He would bring wine, sharpen blades, tend the horses, serve meals, prepare bedding, and perform a thousand other tasks that the companions had been accustomed to perform by themselves and were delighted to be relieved of. Between these orders, Tazendra would banter loudly with Uttrik, disputing the aesthetics of the scenery or the nature of the roads.
Pel made the journey with his sharp eyes flashing here and there, as if he were committing everything he saw to memory; from time to time he would pause, staring, apparently, at some person or village or tree that seemed to have for him some meaning none of the others could fathom.
Uttrik,
as we have said, was developing a companionable fondness for Tazendra, and seemed to be playing the game of seeing how far he could bait her without actually making her angry. He would dispute her opinions about anything she brought up, and, if she appeared about to become angry, he would immediately begin to laugh, which seemed to have the effect of removing whatever warmth had begun to build in her.
Aerich sat easily on his Cramerie gelding, taking in the sights around him, and listening to the speech of his companions, without either losing his good humor or appearing to even notice what was going on around him; that is, he was lost in his own thoughts.
Khaavren had at first enjoyed the journey a great deal, but as they drew closer to the mountains, worries seemed to hang over him until, by the time they reached the hostel, he was positively frowning, a fact which Aerich, who had become very fond of the young Tiassa, could not help noticing.
Notwithstanding that it was early in the day when they came to Bengloarafurd, they nevertheless found an inn whose sign read, in simple lettering, “The Painted Sign,” and there they found rooms for the day and the night. It is worth mentioning here that Bengloarafurd lay against an unusually shallow portion of the Climbing River, one of the longest, fastest, and deepest of the streams with which the Eastern Mountains in general, and Mount Bli’aard in particular, are so abundantly supplied.
The first to discover the place were, according to legend, advance scouts of the House of the Dragon in the Fourth Cycle, who were in the vanguard of the Imperial Army which was anxious to drive the Easterners back beyond the mountains in hopes of reducing the raids to which the eastern boundaries were then being subjected. They followed the Climbing River down from the North, and found a shallow spot where there lived an independent tribe of Serioli.
What followed was ten years of almost constant war between the Dragonlords of the Empire and the Easterners, during which the Easterners occupied the area and fought from the surrounding mountains. The Serioli, who departed the area to avoid any of the unfortunate incidents that war can produce, left only the name for the place, which was “Ben,” meaning “ford” in their language. The Easterners called the place “Ben Ford,” or, in the Eastern tongue, “Ben gazlo.”
After ten years of fierce battle, the Imperial Army won a great victory on the spot, driving the Easterners well back into the mountains. The Dragonlords who had found the place, then, began calling it “Bengazlo Ford.” The Dragons, wishing to waste as little time on speech as possible, shortened this to Benglo Ford, or, in the tongue of the Dragon, which was still in use at the time, “Benglo ara.” Eventually, over the course of the millennia, the tongue of the Dragon fell out of use, and the North-western language gained preeminence, which rendered the location Bengloara Ford, which was eventually shortened to Bengloarafurd. The river crossing became the Bengloarafurd Ford, which name it held until after the Interregnum when the river was dredged and the Bengloarafurd Bridge was built. Should anyone be interested in finding this delightful city, it still stands, and the bridge still appears with the name we have cited, but the city was renamed Troe after the engineer who built the bridge, either because the citizens were proud of their new landmark, or because the engineer’s name was short.