Krispos the Emperor

villains. The writers of those romances had never run into the skinny fellow. Phostis' eyes must have given him away, for the thin man kicked him square in the crotch almost before he managed to raise an arm. He fell in a moaning heap and threw up most of the food he'd eaten. He knew he ought not to writhe and clutch at himself, but he could not help it. He'd never known such pain.

'You were right,' Olyvria told the skinny man, her voice curiously neutral. 'He needs to be tied tonight.'

Skinny nodded. He waited for Phostis' thrashings to cease, then said, 'Get up, you. Don't be stupid about it, either, or I'll give you another dose.'

Swiping at his mouth with the sleeve of his homespun tunic, Phostis struggled to his feet. He had needed to get used to Digenis' addressing him as lad rather than young Majesty, now he hurt too much to bridle at being roughly called you. At the thin man's gesture, he put his hands behind his back and let himself be tied. Maybe the rope wasn't as tight as it had been before. It was none too loose, either.

His kidnappers brought out a blanket that smelled of horse and draped it over him once he'd lain down. The two men went inside the farmhouse, leaving Olyvria behind for the first watch. She had both a hunting bow and a knife that would have made a decent shortsword.

'You keep an eye on him,' Syagrios called from the doorway. 'If he tries to get loose, hurt him and holler for us. We can't let him get away.'

'I know,' Olyvria said. 'He shan't.'

By the way she handled the bow, Phostis could see she knew what to do with it. He had no doubt she'd shoot him to keep him from escaping. With the dull, sickening ache still in his stones, he wasn't going anywhere anyhow, not for a while. He said as much to Olyvria.

'You were stupid to try to break away there,' she answered, again in that odd, dispassionate tone.

'So I found out.' The inside of Phostis' mouth tasted like something that had just been scraped out of a sewer.

'Why did you do it?' she asked.

'I don't know. Because I thought I might succeed, I suppose.' Phostis thought a little, then added, 'Syagrios would probably say because I'm young and stupid.' What he thought about both Syagrios and his opinions he would not repeat to a woman, not even one who'd shown him her nakedness, who'd drugged him and stolen him.

He could, at the moment, think of Olyvria's nakedness with absolute detachment. He knew he wasn't ruined for life, but he certainly was ruined for the evening. He wriggled around a little on the hard-packed ground, trying to find some position less uncomfortable than most of the others.

'I'm sorry,' Olyvria said, as contritely as if they were friends. 'Did you want to rest?'

'What I want to do and what I can do aren't the same,' he answered.

'I'm afraid I can't help that,' she said, sharply now. 'If you'd not been so foolish, I might have managed something, but since you were—' She shook her head. 'Syagrios and our other friend are right—we have to get you safe to Livanios. I know he'll be delighted to see you.'

'To have me in his hands, you mean,' Phostis retorted. 'And what puts you so high in Livanios' council? How can you know what he will or won't be?'

'It's not hard,' Olyvria answered. 'He's my father.'

Zaidas looked worn. He'd ridden hard to catch up with the army. Still in the saddle, he bowed his head to Krispos. 'I regret, your Majesty, that I have had no success in locating your son by sorcerous means. I shall accept without complaint any penalty you see fit to exact for my failure.'

'Very well, then,' Krispos said. Zaidas stiffened, awaiting the Avtokrator's judgment. Krispos delivered it in his most imperial voice: 'I order you henceforth to be forcibly prevented from mouthing such nonsense.' He started talking normally again. 'Don't you think I know you're doing everything you know how to do?'

'You're generous, your Majesty,' the wizard said, not hiding his relief. He took the reins in his left hand for a moment so he could pound his right fist down onto his thigh. 'You can't imagine how this eats at me. I'm used to success, by the lord with the great and good mind. Knowing a mage out there can thwart me makes me furious. I want to find out who he is and where he is so I can thrash him with my bare hands.'

His obvious anger made Krispos smile. 'A man who believes he can't be beaten is most often proved right.' But his grin soon slipped. 'Unless, of course, he's up against something rather more than a man. If you were wrong back in the city and we do, in fact, face Harvas—'

'That thought crossed my mind,' Zaidas said. 'Being beaten by one of that sort would surely salve my self- respect, for who among mortal men could stand alone against him? Before I rejoined you, I ran the same sorcerous tests I'd used at the Sorcerers' Collegium, and others besides. Whoever he may be, my foe is not Harvas.'

'Good,' Krispos said. 'That means Phostis does not lie under Harvas' hands—a fate I'd wish on no one, friend or foe.'

'There we agree,' Zaidas answered. 'We will all be better off if Harvas Black-Robe is never again seen among living men. But knowing he is not the agency of your son's disappearance hardly puts us closer to learning who is responsible.'

'Responsible? Who but the Thanasioi? That much I assume. What puzzles me—and you as well, obviously—is how they're able to hide him.' Krispos paused, plucked at his beard, and listened over again in his mind to what Zaidas had just said. After a moment's thought, he slowly went on, 'Knowing Harvas isn't responsible for stealing Phostis lifts a weight from my heart. Have you any way to learn by sorcery who is to blame?'

The mage bared his teeth in a frustrated grimace that had nothing to do with a smile save in the twist of his lips. 'Majesty, my sorcery can't even find your son, let alone who's to blame for absconding with him.'

'I understand that,' Krispos said. 'Not quite what I meant. Sometimes in ruling I find problems where, if I tried to solve them all at once with one big, sweeping law, a lot of people would rise up in revolt. But they still need solving, so I go about it a little at a time, with a small change here, another one there, still another two years later. Anyone who thinks he can solve a complicated mess in one fell swoop is a fool, if you ask me. Problems that grow up over years don't go away in a day.'