presence. We thought we'd caught ourselves a lord. I remember thinking as I looked at him, there'll be a fine ransom in this one.’ He paused and shook his head reflectively. ‘I was already planning how to spend it. There were six of us, surrounding him, with pikes. Nowhere for him to go. No dishonour in surrender. “Come on, your highness,” someone said. “Your war's over. Time to get you to market.''
He paused again, and his eyes widened. ‘He just drew himself up. Looked at us as if we were so many dog turds, then he took hold of one of the pike shafts…’ Aaken's hands came out, re-enacting the long past deed. ‘…and just walked on to the blade. Slow as you please. Just walked on to it. Didn't utter a sound. Didn't bat an eyelid.'
He turned to Menedrion. ‘That's a follower of Ar-Hyrdyn. You can forget about reason and logic. All they're interested in is dying valiantly in battle so that they can fight in Ar-Hyrdyn's legions. They're mad by any definition we know, but they're not stupid, and they're terrifying. I'll never forget the look in that priest's eyes. Triumphant even though he was dying.'
Menedrion wriggled uncomfortably.
'That envoy reminded me of him,’ Aaken finished. ‘Same carriage, same arrogance, disdain…'
'He's still only one man,’ Menedrion protested. ‘Perhaps the Handira didn't know what he was really like. We've had some strange ones in our own diplomatic corps. In fact, we've still got some, if you ask me.'
Ibris nodded and smiled faintly. ‘That's true,’ he agreed. ‘He could be here as part of some internal political strife. But the seal was genuine and we can't plan on that hope. We can only plan on what we've seen and heard. And if the Bethlarii are going to be fighting for the honour of a place in the Golden Hall of Ar-Hyrdyn then we'll have to be in top fettle to meet them.'
He paused and rubbed his nose thoughtfully. ‘Does anyone disagree with that conclusion?'
No one spoke, and Ibris became businesslike.
'We must find out what's happening in Whendrak first of all. Arwain, can you get a platoon of your guards ready to travel up there by first thing tomorrow?’ he asked.
'Probably,’ Arwain said, taken aback somewhat by this sudden commission. ‘But it'll take most of the night.'
'Good,’ Ibris replied. ‘Do it. You can sleep in the saddle tomorrow. Aaken, make sure he's properly briefed on the treaty conditions concerning Whendrak. And prepare the appropriate documents. I don't want us causing the very thing we're trying to prevent through some diplomatic carelessness.'
Menedrion scowled at this abrupt development. ‘I could…’ he began.
'You, as my heir, will be looking after our honoured guest, Irfan,’ Ibris said, cutting across his complaint before it was voiced. ‘And we'll be continuing to treat him as such until he's safely back across the border.'
Menedrion rebelled petulantly. ‘He needs a keeper, not a host,’ he protested. ‘Let Arwain do it. He's politer than I am. I can be in Whendrak before nightfall…'
'Irfan, that's an order,’ Ibris said sharply. ‘This is too serious for any of us to consider our own wants and fancies. Arwain's Mantynnai will see what's to be seen better than your guard, and Arwain's a better listener than you and he knows when to run away, which you don't. In addition, if something's seriously amiss then it'll only be my bastard son they've got, not my heir and one of my best commanders.’ He shot a glance at Arwain. ‘I'm sorry, Arwain, but you understand?'
Arwain bowed an acknowledgement.
Menedrion was still not wholly mollified. ‘In addition, Irfan,’ Ibris went on, his manner more conciliatory, ‘I want you to get a feel for this Grygyr. Talk to him, and listen to him. See what you can smell out. It'll be much needed practice for you in controlling your tongue and it could well be important. You may have to face him in the field yet. Get a … company … ready tomorrow, with a view to starting back with him the day after.'
Menedrion gave a reluctant nod. ‘And remember this, Irfan,’ Ibris added. ‘If their envoy returns not only alive and unhurt, but seemingly feted and personally escorted by no less a person than my heir, it'll do little for him at home. The Hanestra is as riddled with intrigue as our Sened and Gythrin-Dy, and suspicion and jealousy are the norm. Rot from the inside will destroy a house just as effectively as flame from the outside.'
Menedrion's eyes narrowed. ‘They may also just take it as an act of weakness on our part.'
Ibris leaned back with a shrug. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Let them underestimate us to the full.'
Menedrion's lip curled in reluctant agreement. ‘Very well. Considerate host and travelling companion I'll be,’ he said, sourly.
Arwain watched the exchange with some relief. His relationship with Menedrion was such that any sign of preferment by his father made him extremely wary.
Ibris turned to his Chancellor and the commander of his bodyguard. ‘Aaken, Ciarll, we've a lot to do,’ he said. ‘The city'll be seething with rumours by now. I can avoid holding an emergency cabinet meeting until tomorrow but no longer, I think. And I'll have to have at least an announcement ready for the Sened before they finish their business tomorrow evening. But I want our basic policy decided here and now or we'll get bogged down in endless rhetoric and debate.'
Aaken frowned. ‘They won't like that,’ he said. ‘It's not like the old days. They're used to having their say.'
Ibris was dismissive. ‘They won't know it's happening if we're careful about it,’ he said. ‘And I still have complete command of the army as I recall.'
'True,’ Aaken conceded. ‘But without Sened approval for any action you take, you may have to pay them out of your own pocket.'
Ibris waved his hands. ‘I'm well aware of that,’ he said irritably. ‘Don't be obtuse.’ Then he brought his hands down on the arms of his chair with a crack. ‘That's exactly what I mean about getting bogged down. This is sufficient of an emergency for me to assume all executive authority quite legally, but I don't want to do that yet; or at all, if it's avoidable. It would cause a lot of bad feeling and probably outright panic among the merchants and traders. No, we treat the Sened as we treated the envoy; gently and pleasantly. But nevertheless, we decide here, now, what's needed, then we decide what we've got to say to get the necessary approval. Is that clear?'
Aaken lifted both hands in a gesture of surrender.
'That's a detail, anyway,’ Ibris went on. ‘What's more important is the state of the army and the attitudes of our border allies. I want your sharpest, most loyal people out there quickly. Doing what Arwain will be doing. Looking, listening. And get someone down to Crowhell and across to Nestar to see if any unusual groups of men have been arriving and taking ship up river.'
'If it's a crusade they're looking to start, they won't be using mercenaries, foreigners, will they?’ Arwain ventured.
Ibris looked at him. ‘I told you this morning about priests, didn't I?’ he said, though not unkindly. ‘When they're so inclined they make most politicians seem as open as little children. We've already seen one of the Bethlarii aristocracy resorting to disguise. It'll be no trouble for their priesthood to decide that anyone who wishes to fight for them for whatever reason has been led to them by the will of Ar-Hyrdyn.’ His nose curled up in distaste. ‘In any event, even if some religious clique has the ascendancy at the moment you can rest assured that there'll be plenty of straightforward opportunists rallying to their flag and bringing their influence to bear.'
Arwain inclined his head in acknowledgement of the lesson. Ibris snapped his fingers. ‘And talking of disguises, Ciarll…’ he began.
'The matter's in hand, sire,’ Feranc replied. ‘I've already sent messages to the Liktors and to the garrisons to be on the lookout for unusual strangers.’ Uncharacteristically, he frowned. ‘I'm afraid I've been lax…'
Ibris waved him to silence. ‘We've all been lax,’ he said. ‘I should have had the wit to realize that too long without war would have had some dire effect on their society…’ He cast a quick, acknowledging look at Arwain. ‘And all of us should have remembered that the Bethlarii are our enemy and that just as nothing ever remains the same, so nothing changes.'
He nodded to himself pensively. ‘We'd better start mobilizing the local garrisons at least. Let's also hope we've not been lax in our training.’ It was a dark thought.
The room fell silent and the four men sat motionless for a little while, held by Ibris's concern. Then Menedrion stood up and stretched.
'Ah well,’ he said. ‘If I've got to get a company ready for escort duty I'd better make a start. What with that and entertaining my guest, I doubt I'll be getting much sleep tonight.'
Arwain looked at him sharply. There was an odd note in his half-brother's voice.
