'A dragon. A little one. His name was Tiz. He was-’
'That's enough,' said Lord Alagrace, with a sigh.
He knew he should really have her taken out and whipped to bring her into line, but he lacked the energy to be sufficiently outraged at her misbehaviour. Besides, he still thought it might be possible to use her as an oracle, and if he expected others to accept Yen Olass as an oracle then it was important to refrain from having her beaten like a common slave.
'Anyway,' said Yen Olass, 'you're not going to die. Not yet, not on a beautiful day like this. What's this? Wine? Here, drink some. Go on. It'll make you feel better. Where did you get it?’
'The same place as we got those furs you're wearing,' said Lord Alagrace. 'It's loot from the pirate camp.’
He accepted the wine Yen Olass poured for him, and watched her exploring the rest of his headquarters tent. It was tiny compared to the tent he had at the siege site at Lorford, but it had still taken four men to carry it through the forest.
'You could have found me better furs than these,' said Yen Olass. 'They smell!’
'Don't worry,' said Lord Alagrace. 'Nobody's going to notice.’
'They might, you know. When we kiss.’
Lord Alagrace took this in silence. Yen Olass was bright, flushed, ebullient and irrepressible. Through all the years in which they had been associated, he had never seen her in a mood like this. In an adolescent girl with a handsome young lover, he would have attributed this mood to sexual excitement; in a mature oracle, it was hard to explain.
'Have you been drinking?' said Lord Alagrace.
Yen Olass made a formal bow and arranged herself at his feet. She looked up at him, her face demure.
'Your oracle awaits instructions,' said Yen Olass, in a cool, formal voice.
Lord Alagrace suspected that this formality contained its own subtle form of mockery. Somehow, while being chased through the wilderness, Yen Olass had gained a new pride and confidence; her growing ego-strength disturbed and unsettled him. In Gendormargensis, she had obeyed him in all things, and her every obeisance had been sincere.
'First,' said Lord Alagrace, 'I have to know the truth. Are you pregnant?’
'How would I get pregnant?’
'Haveros says you were taken by force by a metal flower.’
'Is that how it happens?' said Yen Olass innocently. 'With a flower? I always thought-' 'This is a serious question!’
'The only person who ever said I was pregnant was the Princess Quenerain,' said Yen Olass. 'Are you going to believe a hysterical woman like that? Of course, there's the children's story about Alakin Malakin who got taken by the lily god, but that's-’
'Don't be impertinent,' said Lord Alagrace.
Yen Olass bowed her head.
'I am your oracle. I exist only to serve.’
Lord Alagrace could not see her face, but he was half-convinced that she was smiling. A small sound escaped her: unless he was mistaken, she was just barely suppressing an attack of the giggles. It seemed that she no longer took him seriously. Perhaps she was in such high spirits because, after days of fear and danger, she thought she had reached a place of refuge.
'Do you think you're safe?' said Lord Alagrace.
Yen Olass looked up.
'But of course, my lord. I was frightened when your patrols caught us in the forest – but only because I thought they were Chonjara's men.’
'They are.’
'They are?’
'They are – or might be. I've tried to order them south. They won't go. They're waiting for Chonjara to return. They want us to face each other. Then they'll decide.’
'They'll choose their own leader?’
'It seems so.’
'There's a simple cure for that,' said Yen Olass. 'Find the ringleaders then kill them. Do it by night. Haveros will help you. If it comes to that, I'll cut throats myself.’
'If it was that easy, I'd have done it,' said Lord Alagrace. 'I came from Skua with a hundred hand-picked men. I thought that would give me enough steel to put down any mutiny. Chonjara's made a bad mistake, withdrawing hundreds of men from the siege to go whoring through the forest after a few fugitives – or so I thought.’
'But?’
'I find him popular,' said Lord Alagrace. 'Though he runs from the true battle men think him a great battle commander. Why should that be?’
'The greatest power in Argan is the wizards',' said Yen Olass. 'Already hundreds of men have died fighting against them. Your duty demands that you take Castle Vaunting for the Lord Emperor Khmar, even if the siege costs you half the army. You've never wavered in your duty. Isn't it natural for men to see, in you, their death?’
'But they talk of me as – as a…’
'They talk of you as a coward. As a weakling. Of course they do. Men want to think themselves brave. So they pretend that they're heroes, running through the forest, killing a few Melski, crossing swords with the occasional pirate, hunting a handful of fugitives. They pretend the warlord who leads them is the greatest commander since time began. Isn't that natural?’
'But the hundred men I brought from Skua,' said Lord Alagrace. 'They know better. I chose-’
'You chose your best, then found them no different from the others. Why be so surprised? Here, everything's changed. In Tameran, you could have summoned up a squadron of executioners from Gendormargensis. Here
'They all have to face imperial justice sooner or later.’
'Do they? If the wizards can't be defeated, then best to give up now. Tell the army you'll lead all volunteers down the Salt Road to take up service in one of the warmland kingdoms. Or offer them a journey west, into the Ravlish Lands. Maybe that's what they're waiting for.’
'Are you tempting me?’
'The real question,' said Yen Olass, 'is different. Are you tempting them? What have you got to offer them? A death outside the walls of Castle Vaunting? The enemy commands fire, and madness. Can we stand against weapons like those?’
'Nobody's asking you to stand against anything,' said Lord Alagrace.
'My fate is linked with yours,' said Yen Olass. 'You've got two choices. Promise your men some honey-tongue future. Or else abandon your command – and run.’
'I won't do either,' said Lord Alagrace. 'I'll stay here and meet Chonjara.’
'And die.’
'If that's the way it has to be, then…’
'I don't want to die!' said Yen Olass.
'Do you think the world turns on what you want or don't want?' said Lord Alagrace. 'Do you think imperial policy shapes itself according to the whims of an insignificant upstart female slave? Do you think-’
Yen Olass got up and walked toward the door of the tent.
'Yen Olass!' said Lord Alagrace sharply.
She did not stop, and she did not look back. She walked out into the sunlight. Lord Alagrace did not follow, and did not call for guards to bring her back. He had thought of winning some victory over Chonjara by using Yen Olass, in her role as oracle, to manipulate the sentiments of his soldiers. Now he realised that was impossible. Things had gone too far for that.
He would have to face down Chonjara, or die in the attempt. Which meant that he would probably die. Facing his death, he felt no terror: rather, a sensation of relief. Knowing that he would soon be gone, he turned to the last task awaiting him, which was the composition of his grace notes, which is to say, his death song.
According to the traditions of the High Houses of Sharla, this composition should by rights have been carved on his tomb. Since he was going to die in the wilderness, he would be denied a tomb. Never mind. He would write out his grace notes in a fair hand on a piece of wood, and arrange for the words to be burnt with his body on a funeral
