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Sparhawk glanced around and then carefully closed the bedroom door. 'I need to talk with Sephrenia again,' he said.
'All right.'
'Not here, though. I'll find someplace.'
'What happened last night?'
'We have to go to Tamuli.'
'I thought you were going to do something about Drychtnath.'
'I am-in a way. It seems that there's something-or someone-over on the Daresian continent that's behind Drychtnath. I think we'll be able to find out more about him there than we ever would here. I'll make arrangements to have you taken back to Cimmura.'
She pursed her small mouth. 'No, I don't think so,' she said. 'I'd better go along with you.'
'That's absolutely out of the question.'
'Oh, Sparhawk, do grow up. I'm going along because you're going to need me when we get there.' She negligently tossed Rollo over into a corner. 'I'm also going because you can't stop me. Come up with some reason for it, Sparhawk. Otherwise you'll have to explain to mother how it is that I managed to get ahead of you when you all find me sitting in a tree alongside a road somewhere. Get dressed father, and go find a place where we can talk privately.'
Some time later, Sparhawk and his daughter climbed a narrow, spiraling wooden staircase that led to the cupola atop the dome of the Basilica. There was quite probably no more private place in the world, particularly in view of the fact that the wooden stairs leading up to the little bell-tower did not so much creak as they did shriek when anyone began to climb them. When they reached the unenclosed little house high above the city, Danae spent several minutes gazing out over Chyrellos.
'You can always see so much better from up high like this,' she said. 'It's just about the only reason I've ever found for flying.'
'Can you really fly?'
'Of course. Can't you?'
'You know better, Aphrael.'
'I was only teasing you, Sparhawk,' she laughed. 'Let's get started.' She sat down, crossed her legs and lifted her little face to sing that trilling song she had raised back in Cimmura. Then again, her eyes closed and her face went blank as the song died away.
'What is it this time, Sparhawk?' Sephrenia's voice was a bit tart.
'What's the matter, little mother?'
'Do you realise that it's the middle of the night here?'
'It is?'
'Of course it is. The sun's on your side of the world now.'
'Astonis.h.i.+ng-though I suppose it stands to reason if you think about it. Did I disturb you?'
'Yes, as a matter of fact you did.'
'What were you doing so late at night?'
'None of your business. What do you want?'
'We'll be coming to Daresia soon.'
'What?'
'The emperor asked us to come-well, he asked me actually. The rest are sort of tagging along. Ehlana's going to make a state visit to Matherion to sort of give us all an excuse for being there.'
'Have you taken leave of your senses? Tamuli's a very dangerous place right now.'
'Probably not much more than Eosia is. We were attacked by ancient Lamorks on our way here to chyrellos from Cimmura.'
'Perhaps they were just modern-day Lamorks dressed in ancient garb.'
'I rather doubt that, Sephrenia. They vanished when their attack began to fail.'
'All of them?'
'Except for the ones who were already dead. Would a little logic offend you?'
'Not unless you drag it out.'
'We're almost positive that the attackers really were ancient Lamorks, and Amba.s.sador Oscagne told us that someone's been raising antique heroes in Daresia as well. Logic implies that this resurrection business is originating in Tamuli and that its goal is to stir up nationalistic sentiments in order to weaken the central governments-the empire in Daresia and the Church here in Eosia. If we're right about the source of all of this activity being somewhere in Tamuli, that's the logical place to start looking for answers. Where are you right now?'
'Vanion and I are at Sarsos in eastern Astel. You'd better come here, Sparhawk. These long-distance conversations tend to blur things.'
Sparhawk thought for a moment, trying to remember the map of Daresia. 'We'll come overland then. I'll find some way to get the others to agree to that.'
'Try not to take too long, Sparhawk. It's really very important that we talk face to face.'
'Right. Sleep well, little mother.'
'I wasn't sleeping.'
'Oh? What were you doing?'
'Didn't you hear what she told you before, Sparhawk?' his daughter asked him.
'Which was what?'
'She told you that it was none of your business what she was doing.'
'What an astonis.h.i.+ngly good idea, your Majesty,' Oscagne said later that morning when they had all gathered once again in Dolmant's private audience-chamber. 'I'd have never thought of it in a million years. The leaders of the subject nations of Tamuli don't go to Matherion unless they're summoned by his Imperial Majesty.'
'The rulers of Eosia are less restrained, your Excellency,' Emban told him. 'They have total sovereignty.'
'Astonis.h.i.+ng. Has your Church no authority over their actions, your Grace?'
'Only in spiritual matters, I'm afraid.'
'Isn't that inconvenient?'
'You wouldn't believe how much, Amba.s.sador Oscagne,' Dolmant sighed, looking at Ehlana reproachfully.
'Be nice, Sarathi,' she murmured.
'Then no one is really in charge here in Eosia? No one has the absolute authority to make final decisions?'
'It's a responsibility we share, your Excellency,' Ehlana explained. 'We enjoy sharing things, don't we Sarathi?'
'Of course.' Dolmant said it without much enthusiasm.
'The rough-and-tumble, give-and-take nature of Eosian politics have a certain utility, Your Excellency,' Stragen drawled. 'Consensus politics gives us the advantage of bringing together a wide range of views.'
'In Tamuli, we feel that having only one view is far less confusing.'
'The Emperor's view? What happens when the emperor happens to be an idiot? Or a madman?'
'The government usually works around him,' Oscagne admitted blandly. 'Such imperial misfortunes seldom live very long for some reason, however.'
'Ah,' Stragen said.
'Perhaps we should get down to work,' Emban said. He crossed the room to a large map of the known world hanging on the wall. 'The fastest way to travel is by sea,' he noted. 'We could sail from Madel in Cammoria out through the Inner Sea and then around the southern tip of Daresia and then up the east coast to Matherion.'
'We?' Tynian asked.
'Oh, didn't I tell you?' Emban said. 'I'll be going along. Ostensibly, I'll be Queen Ehlana's spiritual advisor. In actuality, I'll be the Archprelate's personal envoy.'
'It's probably wiser to keep the Elenian flavour of the expedition,' Dolmant explained, 'for public consumption, anyway. Let's not complicate things by sending two separate missions to Matherion simultaneously.'
Sparhawk had to move quickly, and he didn't have much to work with. 'Traveling by s.h.i.+p has certain advantages,' he conceded, 'but I think there's a major drawback.'
'Oh?' Emban said.
'It satisfies the requirements of a state visit, right enough, but it doesn't do very much to address our real reason for going to Tamuli. Your Excellency, what's likely to happen when we reach Matherion?'
'The usual,' Oscagne shrugged. 'Audiences, banquets, reviewing troops, concerts, that giddy round of meaningless activity we all adore.'
'Precisely,' Sparhawk agreed. 'And we won't really get anything done, will we?'
'Probably not.'
'But we aren't going to Tamuli for a month-long carouse. What we're really going there for is to find out what's behind all the upheaval. We need information, not entertainment, and the information's probably out in the hinterlands, not in the capital. I think we should find some reason to go across country.'
It was a practical suggestion, and it rather neatly concealed Sparhawk's real reason for wanting to go overland.
Emban's expression was pained. 'We'd be on the road for months that way.'
'We can get as much done as we'll accomplish in Matherion by staying home, your Grace. We have to get outside the Capital.'
Emban groaned. 'You're absolutely bent on making me ride a horse all the way from here to Matherion, aren't you, Sparhawk?'
'You could stay home, your Grace,' Sparhawk suggested. 'We could always take Patriarch Bergsten instead. He'd be better in a fight anyway.'
'That will do, Sparhawk,' Dolmant said firmly.
'Consensus politics are very interesting, Milord Stragen,' Oscagne observed. 'In Matherion, we'd have followed the course suggested by the Primate of Ucera without any further discussion. We try to avoid raising the possibility of alternatives whenever possible.'
'Welcome to Eosia, your Excellency,' Stragen smiled.
'Permission to speak?' Khalad said politely.
'Of course,' Dolmant replied.
Khalad rose, went to the map and began measuring distance. 'A good horse can cover ten leagues a day, and a good s.h.i.+p can cover thirty-if the wind holds.' He frowned and looked around. 'Why is Talen never around when you need him?' he muttered. 'He can compute these numbers in his head. I have to count them up on my fingers.'
'He said he had something to take care of,' Berit told him.
Khalad grunted. 'All we're really interested in is what's going on in Daresia, so there's no need to ride across Eosia. We could sail from Madel the way Patriarch Emban suggested, go out through the Inner Sea and then up the east coast of Zemoch to-' He looked at the map and then pointed. 'To Salesha here. That's nine hundred leagues-thirty days. If we were to follow the roads, it'd probably be the same distance overland, but that would take us ninety days. We'd save two months at least.'
'Well,' Emban conceded grudgingly, 'that's something, anyway.'
Sparhawk was fairly sure that they could save much more than sixty days. He looked across the room at his daughter, who was playing with her kitten under Murtai's watchful eye. Princess Danae was quite frequently present at conferences where she had no real business. People did not question her presence for some reason. Sparhawk knew that the Child G.o.ddess Aphrael could tamper with the pa.s.sage of time, but he was not entirely certain that she could manage it so undetectably in her present incarnation as she had when she had been Flute. Princess Danae looked back at him and rolled her eyes upward with a resigned expression that spoke volumes about his limited understanding, and then she gravely nodded her head. Sparhawk breathed somewhat easier after that.
'Now we come to the question of the queen's security,' he continued. 'Amba.s.sador Oscagne, how large a retinue could my wife take with her without raising eyebrows?'
'The conventions are a little vague on that score, Sir Sparhawk.'
Sparhawk looked around at his friends. 'if I thought I could get away with it, I'd take the whole body of the militant orders with me,' he said.
'We've defined our trip as a visit, Sparhawk,' Tynian said, 'not an invasion.'
'Would a hundred armoured knights alarm his Imperial Majesty, your Excellency?'
'It's a symbolic sort of number,' Oscagne agreed after a moment's consideration, 'large enough for show, but not so large as to appear threatening. We'll be going through Astel, and you can pick up an escort of Atans in the capital at Darsas. A sizeable escort for a state visitor shouldn't raise too many eyebrows.'
'Twenty-five knights from each order, wouldn't you think, Sparhawk?' Bevier suggested. 'The differences in our equipment and the colours of our surcoats would make the knights appear more ceremonial than utilitarian. A hundred Pandions by themselves might cause concern in some quarters.'
'Good idea,' Sparhawk agreed.
'You can bring more if you want, Sparhawk,' Mirtai told him. 'There are Peloi on the steppes of Central Astel. They're the descendants of Kring's ancestors. He might just want to visit his cousins in Daresia.'
'Ah yes,' Oscagne said, 'the Peloi. I'd forgotten that you had those wild-men here in Eosia too. They're an excitable and sometimes unreliable people. Are you certain that this Kring person would be willing to accompany us?'
'Kring would ride into fire if I asked him to,' Mirtai replied confidently.
'The Domi is much taken with our Mirtai, your Excellency,' Ehlana smiled. 'He comes to Cimmura three or four times a year to propose marriage to her.'
'The Peloi are warriors, Atana,' Oscagne noted. 'You would not demean yourself in the eyes of your people were you to accept him.'
'Husbands take their wives more or less for granted, Oscagne,' Mirtai pointed out with a mysterious little smile. 'A suitor, on the other hand, is much more attentive, and I rather enjoy Kring's attentions. He writes very nice poetry. He compared me to a golden sunrise once. I thought that was rather nice.'