Elvenborn

'Not nearly as much as it will take, I suspect,' said Lord Van-drien dryly.

'It will be a massive effort,' Lord Kyndreth agreed. 'Every tracking team will have to have a lord with it—one whose loy­alty is unquestioned and cannot be subverted. Human slaves can be deceived or corrupted.'

Lord Wendrelith shook his head in disgust. 'Ancestors! We'd either have to track them down one at a time —'

'Which would take forever, even by our standards—' Triana interjected softly.

'—or strip our estates of supervisors. Neither is a viable op­tion,' Kyndreth said, nodding.

Triana, seeing that she had not been rebuffed, put in another of her observations. 'Aren't they now crafting their own pun­ishment?'

Another of the Great Lords turned his full attention to Tri­ana. 'That is a very interesting idea, my Lady,' Lord Arentiel-lan said, with an intensely alert expression in his eyes. 'Could you elaborate?'

'They cannot have more than one or two slaves apiece; they dare not collect in groups of more than three. They will not have anything that we think of as decent housing—not so much as a hunting lodge. They are likely to be living in caves or other crude shelters. None of them are truly powerful magicians; if they wish to eat, they must steal, hunt, gather—with their own hands and those of the one or two slaves they still retain.' She laughed, in a voice low and husky. 'It is entirely possible that many of them are out there, burning their dinners over smoking fires, only to shiver through the night in scant shelter, even as we speak.' She smiled sweetly. 'I cannot imagine a punishment worse than that—living like a wild human, and knowing that the only way to rectify the situation is to come groveling back to us.'

All five of the Great Lords stared at her for a long time; then Lord Kyndreth broke out in unexpectedly loud laughter, in

which he was joined by the rest. Gildor looked up at them for a moment without interest, then went back to his concubine.

'By the Ancestors, my Lady, I think you have the right of it!' said Lord Arentiellan with admiration. 'My miserable brat is certainly welcome to all the burned rabbit and rain he can stand.'

'What of the army, Kyndreth?' asked Vandrien. 'If it were up to me, I'd disband them.'

To Triana's veiled joy, the rest murmured agreement.

'It's up to the full Council, of course,' Kyndreth demurred. 'And there are the Wizards to think of.'

'True ...' Vandrien mused.

'Who we will, inevitably, outlive,' Triana pointed out qui­etly. 'With half their blood coming from slave-stock, I cannot see that they would have our years. With no more of the full blood, they will dilute their stock to the point that they are no more long-lived than mere slaves. Assuming that they don't kill each other off in their own quarrels.'

'Once again, my Lady, you surprise and delight me.' Lord Vandrien sat up enough to give her the full bow of respect. 'I am in your debt for such reasoned observations.'

'Thank you.' She lowered her gaze modestly.

'Still, the Wizards ... the question is, whether it is possible that they could pose a threat to us, simply by existing and serv­ing as a temptation to the slaves to revolt.' Kyndreth raised an eyebrow. 'After all, our own offspring did.'

'And slaves would have no difficulty with the notion of— of—living like wild humans.' Arentiellan nodded. 'Still, I don't know—'

'If you disbanded the army, there is a question of what Lord Kyrtian would do with himself,' Triana suggested gently.

'If you ask me, he ought to be on the Council!' Arentiellan said immediately—but Triana saw Lord Kyndreth exchange a pointed glance with one of the others. She strove to catch his eye, and nodded slightly.

Lord Kyndreth looked surprised, then speculative, then re­turned her nod.

She leaned back into her couch, secure in the certainty that her message had been read and understood.

When the last honeyed grape had been eaten, and the last pleasantry exchanged, the Great Lords took their leave of their hostess, one by one. Lord Kyndreth sent his son and the concu­bine back through the Portal and made as if to follow, but found a sudden excuse to remain until all of the others had left but himself. Triana had accompanied them to the Portal herself to bid them a polite farewell, and now found herself, as she had hoped, alone with the Great Lord.

'So, my lady,' Kyndreth said, when the last haze of energy had died from the Portal mouth. 'You seem to have some no­tions about Lord Kyrtian.'

'You are coming to the point with unaccustomed abruptness, if I may say so, Lord Kyndreth,' Triana demurred.

'I am—somewhat concerned about Lord Kyrtian,' the Great Lord replied, shifting his weight restlessly from his left foot to his right. 'I may have awakened sleeping ambition in him, and if now he finds no outlet for it, he may be—distressed.'

'He may use his new-won reputation within the Council to the disadvantage of others,' Triana retorted, coming to the point just as directly as Lord Kyndreth had. 'The strategies of war and politics are not unalike. On the other hand—'

'Yes?' Kyndreth prompted.

'His energies could be turned elsewhere, by someone who is clever enough to devise a channel for them.' She looked up at him from beneath her long lashes, and smiled.

'And what would this distraction cost me, if I may ask, my lady?' Kyndreth was wasting no time; it occurred to Triana that he might be more worried about Kyrtian's ambitions than she had thought.

She decided to risk all on a single throw of the dice. 'The Council Seat once held by my father.'

His mouth pursed, but he didn't look as if he particularly ob­jected to the notion. 'It could be done ... there have been fe­males on the Council before now.'

But he hadn't committed to the bargain either. 'The same

clever person who found one outlet for his energies could turn them back to a more—unfortunate—direction, if bargains made are not kept.'

Now he smiled, wryly. 'You have a way with words, my lady. The bargain will be kept—and I believe that you will find our young Commander at the estate of his Aunt, the Lady Morthena.'

She smiled radiantly at him. 'Thank you, my lord. That is all I need.'

He gave her a full court bow. 'And all I require, as well.' He stepped towards the Portal, which began to glow with energy in response to his proximity. Then he paused on the threshold, to look back over his shoulder at her. 'Good hunting, my Lady,' he said.

'And to you, my lord—' she replied. And he was gone.

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