“Well, and then?”
“As to that, I leave to you, but I beg to point out to you that you now have three swords, which are two more than you are likely to need.”
“Well,” said the Easterner, frowning, “I prefer this arrangement to seeing our warriors kill one another. Yet if I am not mistaken, you used, in your speech, the word, ‘it.’”
“Well,” said Adron, “and why not? It is a perfectly good word.”
“Oh, as to the word, there is no question. But as to its meaning—”
“Well?”
“It seems to indicate some doubt.”
“It does, because how can I know that I will become the Marquis of these lands? And, if I am not, how can I know the truce will be held?”
“I answer for it,” said Khaavren.
The Easterner looked at Khaavren with an expression of speculation. “You answer for it?” he said doubtfully.
“I more than answer for it, I swear that, if does not come about, well, I will place myself in your hands for you to do with as you would.”
“You swear to this, you say?”
“I swear to it by … by …” Khaavren cast his eyes around for something to swear by, and at last he found it. “I swear to it,” he said, “by the blood of your horse.”
Evidently, he had, by chance, found the right answer, for Crionofenarr, after expressing surprise, nodded and said, “I believe you. Give me your hand.”
“Here it is.”
“And here is mine.”
“That is well.”
“And yours, Lord Adron?”
“Here it is.”
“That is good. And to you, Sir Khaavren, I give over this sword. And, moreover, here is your own back. By the Goddess, what would I do with it? It is too long and heavy for me in any event.”
Khaavren took his own weapon back gratefully, and the Morganti blade with some hesitation, even though, in its sheath, it seemed no different from any other sword. He quickly handed it to Lord Adron, who said, “Then it is settled.”
“Yes,” said Crionofenarr. “Let us retire from this field for an hour, and then, after we have rested, we will finish by agreeing upon the exact details.”
“To this I agree.”
Crionofenarr had a horse brought to him, and, mounted once more, led his army back away from the place where the battle had nearly been fought. When Adron turned around, he perceived that Shaltre and Garland were being held in a very threatening manner. “What is this?” he demanded.
Khaavren bowed. “We were merely insuring that the negotiations could be carried off evenly.”
“Well,” said Garland in an ironic tone of voice. “You have proved an able negotiator, and the Empire ought to be grateful to you.”
“I hope so, my lord,” said Khaavren, bowing and ignoring the way in which this compliment was delivered.
“Nevertheless,” said Shaltre, “we have our orders, and moreover, an army at our backs, and you are our prisoners.”
“I think not,” said a new voice, that being Aerich, who picked that moment to step forward, his eyes flashing.
“Who are you and what do you want?” said Shaltre, frowning.
Aerich had long since sheathed his sword and now held out his hands, palms open. He spoke slowly and clearly, saying, “My friends call me Aerich, but I should be called Temma, Duke of Arylle, Count of Bra-moor, which titles I hold by birth and blood, and I challenge you, Count Shaltre.”
Shaltre fell back half a step, amazed. “Impossible,” he said. “The last Duke of Arylle took his own life.”
“Not the last,” said Aerich. “I am his son.”
“He had no son.”
“I was carried away from the destruction of our chateau, and my existence was concealed from you, for my father knew you for the coward and traitor that you are, and wished to spare my life. He hoped I might avenge him; that hope is now to be realized.”
Shaltre said, “You cannot challenge me, for, by the ancient laws, you, trained as a warrior, cannot—”
“Do you know,” interrupted Aerich coldly, “that no one ever seems to notice Teckla. There may be one practically hiding in your fine silk stockings without your ever being aware of him.”
“What do you say?” said Shaltre, frowning still more.
“Back there, you spoke privately with His Highness and with Lord Garland; you did not notice our friend Mica, lackey to the lady Tazendra, for no one ever seems to notice a Teckla.”
“Well,” said Shaltre, “and if he heard our conversation, what then? You know, then, what we wish for you.”
“And, moreover, you then had a conversation without His Highness.”
“And, if I did?” Count Shaltre, we should say, appeared a little less sure of himself than he had a few moments before; Garland had become pale.
“As I have had the honor to inform you, Count, no one ever notices a Teckla, and yet, some Teckla, such as Mica here, are perfectly capable of overhearing a conversation.”
Shaltre looked shaken for a moment, but recovered himself. “You are lying,” he said coolly.
“I? I have no history of lying. There is no one in the world who can ever say that I have told a lie. But in your case, that is not true. Would you like to question Mica here? Do you wish him to say, in plain, simple words, all that you and Garland told each other?”
Shaltre became quite pale, which showed sharply with his bronzed complexion, but only repeated, “You are lying.”
“Teckla can not only hear,” continued Aerich impassively, “but they can also report what they have heard. They can discuss matters of court intrigue, matters of secret arrangements with certain Athyra, the hiring of Jhereg, conspiracies against Lord Adron—”
“All lies,” insisted Shaltre, although he was clearly quite shaken by the charges.
“What is this?” said Adron. “What did they say when I couldn’t hear them?”
“He is lying,” said Shaltre.
“They said,” continued Aerich coolly, “that if all the witnesses of this deed were killed in battle with the Easterners, including Your Highness, there would be no need to keep Kathana alive, as Pepperfield would naturally fall into the hands of the e’Lanya line, which is what Garland’s master, Seodra, wants, and what Shaltre wants as well, since he has evidently made some sort of pact with Seodra, perhaps in order to keep the shameful secret of his past.”
“You are lying!” cried Shaltre, while Garland gave Mica such a look of hatred that it was a wonder he didn’t fall dead on the spot.
“Assassination is an ugly word,” said Adron, looking at Shaltre coldly, “but proofs are required.”
“Treason is an uglier word,” said Aerich coolly. “It is so ugly, that, by the custom of my House, I am released, under such circumstances, from the oath that forbids warriors of our House to challenge those who are not so trained.”
“I declare that this Teckla was lying!” said Shaltre. “He is a Teckla, and—”
“I declare,” said Aerich, “that you are lying; and, I declare further that I am about to kill you; this very moment, in fact.”
“You cannot touch me!” cried Shaltre, panic in his voice, drawing his sword and springing back.
“On the contrary,” said Tazendra, “I think that, if he is willing to dirty his hands, he can touch you quite easily.”
“In your pride and ambition,” said Aerich, “you dishonored my family, have given poor counsel to his Majesty, and you are now prepared to commit treason outright, and to cause to be assassinated friends whom I love. You will die, and, if my voice is heard, you will be denied Deathgate. What have you to say?”
“No,” whispered Shaltre. “I will exile myself. I will leave the Empire for the Islands.”
“Where you will use the knowledge you have gained at court as a poniard in the back of His Majesty.”
“I will not.”
“No, you will not,” said Aerich, letting each word fall like a single drop of water f
alling into a rain-pail after a storm. “You will not, because I am going to kill you now.”
“No, I swear—” and, at these words, thinking, perhaps, to catch Aerich off guard, he sprung, his sword swinging to cut at Aerich’s neck. The first thing his sword did was come near to decapitating Garland, who stood behind him. In point of fact, the blade sliced through the leather cord that held Garland’s pouch, before coming around to strike at Aerich.
There was a brief clang as Aerich deflected the cut with one of his vambraces, then, with the same hand, he took Shaltre by the throat. The older Lyorn swung again, and once more Aerich deflected the blade, this time with his other vambrace, after which he gripped Shaltre’s throat with his other hand. Then he squeezed and twisted. There came a stifled cry, and the sound of breaking bones, and Count Shaltre fell unmoving to the ground, his neck at an odd angle.
Adron and Aerich looked at each other, then, as if with a single thought, looked at Garland, who, brave though he was, stood trembling like a Teckla. Suddenly he turned and bolted away from them back toward the southwestern path down from the plateau.
“And him?” said Adron.
Aerich shrugged. “Let him go, Your Highness. His mission has failed, let him survive Seodra’s wrath as best he may.”
“Very well,” said Adron. “So be it.”
These worthies studied the body of Shaltre as if it would tell them something. Then Aerich’s head rose, and he looked as someone will who, without being aware of it, has for years been walking with his back slightly bent; when he suddenly straightens up. He reached into his pocket, took out his crochet work, and held it up. “The Arylle coat of arms,” he said. “And it is almost completed.”
When Garland was out of sight, Khaavren turned back to Lord Adron and said, “We must write out the terms of the treaty, and your Highness may endorse them on the understanding that His Majesty must ratify them, or that they will become official if you are granted the estate of the Pepperfields. You must have a scribe.”
“It will be seen to,” said Adron. “To that end, let us rejoin my troops, who are, no doubt, awaiting anxiously to hear what has befallen us.”
“Yes,” said Aerich. “Let us go.”
Aerich seemed to have changed after his encounter with Count Shaltre; his eyes were alive, his head was high, and all traces of his melancholy disposition seemed to have vanished. He and Khaavren embraced. Khaavren said, “I am delighted for you, Duke,” and sighed.
“Well, I accept your compliments, and do you, in your turn, accept mine, for you have well served the Empire today.”
Khaavren sighed again.
“Khaavren,” said Pel, “accept my compliments as well; what you have done here is nothing short of miraculous.”
Khaavren sighed for the third time.
Tazendra said, “Excuse me, Khaavren, but you seem unhappy, and I am at a loss to know why. Are you, like me, annoyed that we were not able to die gloriously?”
“Not that; I am unhappy because we have survived.”
“Well, and what is wrong with that?”
“Ah,” said Aerich, “he is right.”
“I had forgotten,” said Pel.
“Oh,” said Kathana.
“Ah, now I recall,” said Tazendra, and, one at a time, they turned their glances toward Uttrik.
The Dragonlord shook his head. “No, you have nothing to fear. Perhaps it dishonors me, but, if so, I will live with it, for, after what we have been through together, I declare that I would sooner jump from some of these cliffs than to cross swords with someone whom I love and revere as I do Kathana, and the rest of you as well.”
“So,” said the baroness, “we need not fight?”
“I have said so, and now I repeat it. For my part, we are no longer enemies.”
And, for the first time in many days, Khaavren felt a smile growing on his face, while such pleasure ran through him that he felt like shouting for joy. “And I assure you I shall not arrest you, either,” he said. “So my love will still love me, and, as for the Empire, well, I think I have done enough to-day that the Emperor cannot complain about such a small thing.”
“He will have no need,” said Kathana, “for I will surrender myself, and I will ask for pardon. If you, Uttrik, will speak for me, well, he cannot fail to grant it.”
“We will all speak for you,” said Aerich. “And I believe I can say as much for Lord Adron as well.”
“But, are we not forgetting the true hero of the day?” said Khaavren.
“Ah,” said Uttrik. “You are right; our clever Mica, who overhears conversations so well.”
“Oh,” said Mica, blushing, “It was very little. In fact,” he added with a sly glance at Aerich, “it was less than perhaps you think it was.”
“Well,” said Tazendra, “you heard what Garland and Shaltre said to His Highness, and were thus able to warn us.”
“That is true,” said Mica. “I heard all of that, and I told you all that I heard. But I must confess that I heard nothing beyond that.”
“What?” said Kathana, smiling. “You pretend you didn’t hear what Count Shaltre said to Lord Garland, so that you then went and told Aerich?”
“Not at all. I tried to, but I couldn’t get close enough; that is what I told him.”
Khaavren turned to Aerich, “Do you mean you lied, my friend?”
“I?” said Aerich. “Not at all. I never said that Mica had overheard the conversation, I merely pointed out that no one ever thinks about whether a Teckla might overhear what he says, which is an entirely different thing, I assure you.”
“And yet,” Khaavren persisted, “you claimed to know what they said to each other.”
“Oh, as to that, well, I did.”
“But if Mica didn’t overhear them—”
“It was not necessary that he overhear them,” said Aerich. “Because, some time ago, Pel happened to overhear a conversation between Count Shaltre and Captain G’aereth, and he recently related to me the substance of that conversation.”
“Well,” said Khaavren, “I remember the occasion; it was the day upon which we joined the guards, was it not?”
“Your memory is excellent, my dear Khaavren.”
“Well, then, what was said?”
“It was simple enough,” said Pel. “Shaltre explained to our Captain that it was the desire of the Emperor that Kathana not be arrested.”
“Well,” said Khaavren, “then it is just as well he didn’t know the real purpose of our journey.”
“That may be,” said Pel. “But that is not the end of the matter.”
“Well, and?”
“I discovered, before we left, that Shaltre must have been lying, because it became clear that it was the Consort who wanted Kathana to remain free.”
“Well, not only the Consort,” said Khaavren.
“No, but it was only the Consort who was acting out of friendship. Everyone else was acting to advance his own interests by being the one who eventually killed or arrested Kathana, in the hopes that this would put him into the graces of His Majesty, especially if the arrest could be contrived to be both public and spectacular.”
“That may be,” said Khaavren, thinking uncomfortably of Illista.
“In any case,” continued Pel, “it was clear that His Majesty had no such opinion; on the contrary, he desired that the Baroness be arrested as quickly as possible, and was even vexed with Lanmarea that she was still at large.”
“Go on, Pel,” said Khaavren, “for I must say this conversation interests me exceedingly.”
“You have now heard the whole of it, for my part.”
“Well, and you, Duke, will you tell me the rest?”
“Only,” said the Lyorn, “on the condition that you continue to call me Aerich.”
“Very well, I submit.”
“Then I will tell you.”
“I am waiting most anxiously.”
“Here it is, then: knowing that Shaltre was lying, I was able t
o form certain conclusions about why he was lying, and I presented these to him, and, as you saw, he confirmed my guesses by his reaction.”
“And that is the entire affair?”
“That is all.”
“But then, if he had not attacked you?”
“In that case,” said Aerich, “I should have been embarrassed.”
“Blood of the Horse,” said Khaavren.
Chapter the Thirty-first
In Which the Reader Will, No Doubt,
Be As Surprised As Our Heroes
to Learn That All is Not Over
“MY FRIENDS,” SAID LORD ADRON “it is my great hope that you will return with me to my home to allow me to bestow upon you the honors you have earned.” They were, at this time, alone on the field once more, for Lord Adron’s troops had been directed back home by Sudi, Adron’s lieutenant, and the Easterners had withdrawn, taking with them, Khaavren noticed, the corpse of the poor horse, which Crionofenarr had caused, with much difficulty, to be loaded onto one of the wains that had been in the rear of the army.
“On the contrary,” said Aerich in response to Adron’s proposals. “Allow me to suggest that Your Highness return with us to the city, where we will intercede with you before the court.”
“He is right,” declared Pel. “For, if we have been fortunate enough to have gained some notoriety here, well, it is entirely at Your Highness’s disposal.”
“And, moreover,” said Kathana, “I am going back to surrender myself to the court, and the company of Your Highness would please me immensely.”
“I should also say,” added Khaavren, “that we ought to hurry, for I think it would be well if we could arrive before Lord Garland, who might endeavor to poison the ears of His Majesty against us.”
“All of this is well thought,” said Adron. “Only I have been exiled by His Majesty, and it would be wrong of me to return.”
“Ah, I had not understood that,” said Aerich, who was well-acquainted with propriety in all situations. “That is another matter, and I entirely agree with Your Highness.”
“In that case,” said Khaavren, “we will return and do what we can for Your Highness.”
“Well,” said Tazendra, who was beginning to recover from her annoyance at not dying gloriously, and was now looking proudly about the field, “I think we should have built up some small degree of credit.”