the Rovac warrior Morgan Hearst, and here, the wizard from the south, Miphon. This one here we believe to be a peasant from Estar, Blackwood. And this one, perhaps with truth and perhaps not, tells me he is a Galish merchant by the name of Ohio.'
Farfalla took her time assessing Hearst and his com- panions. Then she began to interrogate him. She let him know that some of his erstwhile quest companions had been interrogated, and had betrayed their knowledge of his pursuit of the wizard Heenmor, his quest for the death-stone.
'We have received an ugly little embassy demand- ing our surrender in the name of Elkor Alish and the death-stone,' said Farfalla. 'Knowing this Alish to be sworn to the service of wizards, and lacking any evi- dence of a death-stone slaughter said to have taken place near Runcorn, I have chosen to disregard this threat. Yet I see this Alish is not of your party. So is he dead? And if not, does he indeed command the death- stone?'
Sarazin thought he could understand his mother's strategy. There was panic in Selzirk – a panic made all the worse by very tangible evidence of the death-stone's work. Farfalla was concealing this from the strangers to strengthen her own negotiating position. But what did she hope for?
They most certainly did not have the death-stone itself, for that was in Runcorn with Elkor Alish.
While so thinking, Sarazin had not been paying attention to Morgan Hearst, who had been talking all the while. Sarazin caught just Hearst's last word: '… intelligence.'
Then Hearst's companions disappeared. They vanished! One moment they were there, the next they were gone. Two bottles rang as they hit the stone floor: a red bottle and a green bottle. And Hearst was uncovering something, was holding it aloft. 'The death-stone!' cried Hearst. 'Move and you die.' 'Die yourself!' snarled Sarazin.
And drew his sword, attacked, glimpsed something flying towards him Then staggered into stars, blundered into darkness, and collapsed. Unconscious.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Sean Sarazin, knocked out by the death-stone which Hearst had thrown at him, played no part in the nego- tiations which followed between Hearst and Farfalla. By the time Sarazin recovered, it was all settled. Hearst would organise the defence of the Harvest Plains against Elkor Alish, and would then be allowed to go south with his companions and with the death-stone.
Those companions spent some time in the magical red and green bottles into which they had retreated. The mutineers who had been tortured for information in the autumn and winter had spoken of a magical green bottle which could hold an entire army within its depths, but the interrogators had discounted that tale. Now they knew better. 'But it's too late,' raged Sarazin, cloistered with his mother for a very private conference. 'You've thrown away our best opportunity. We could have killed Hearst, we could have taken the death-stone, we could have made ourselves rulers of the Harvest Plains.' 'So you think,' said Farfalla impassively.
'You're not really going to let him go south, are you?' said Sarazin. You're not really going to let Hearst walk out of here with the death-stone? How could you? This solves all! With the death-stone, we could master all of Argan. You won't let him go. You mustn't! You won't, will you?' 'Wait and see,' said Farfalla.
A little later, certain ugly rumours came to Sarazin's ears, and he confronted his mother again, invading her private quarters for the purpose. 'Is it true,' said he, 'that you've taken Hearst to bed?'
That,' said his mother, her face momentarily looking as if the death-stone had been at work on it, 'is a most improper question.'
'But someone has to ask it!' said Sarazin defiantly. 'You can't take up with this – this wandering mercenary. He's the worst kind of lowlife imaginable.'
'You'd be surprised what I've taken up with in my time,' said Farfalla.
Then ordered Sarazin to depart. When he did not, she threw him out.
Back in his own quarters, Sean Sarazin lay on his bed, heartbroken. Was this how it was going to be? After all his planning, his scheming, his conspiring? Was it all going to come to nothing? Was this wretched Rovac warrior going to make himself lord of the Harvest Plains?
If Sarazin judged aright, his mother planned to romance this Rovac warrior, to make him and his death-stone hers, to proclaim herself empress, sweep away the Regency, abolish the Constitution and make herself absolute ruler of the Harvest Plains.
And for Sean Sarazin?
For him there would be, at best, a livelihood. For his mother did not trust him.
Sarazin was still brooding about it when Thodric Jarl came to see him. The Rovac warrior arrived unannounced, looking extremely weary. He was dirty, unwashed, and stank of horses. There was blood on his clothing.
'Jarl!' said Sarazin. 'I haven't seen you for days! Where on earth have you been hiding?'
'I've been down in Androlmarphos,' said Jarl, 'pursuing the recruitment of Qolidian.' 'Qolidian, yes,' said Sarazin.
That was the judge who had sentenced Sarazin to death, botching the sentence as a favour to Farfalla, who had rewarded him by making him king of Androlmarphos. Since then, Jarl had been following various leads, seeking sufficient material to blackmail Qolidian into supporting Sarazin's cause. 'Has any word reached you yet?' said Jarl.
'Word of what?' said Sarazin. Then, without waiting for a reply: 'What do you think of Farfalla's new guests? Morgan Hearst – have you met him?'
'I haven't and I won't,' said Jarl, with mingled con- tempt and disgust. A Rovac warrior in league with a wizard! That's an abomination! Elkor Alish, that's the man I admire.'
'Alish betrayed his comrades,' protested Sarazin. 'He quested for the death-stone in their company, then tried to take it for himself.'
'He was true to his duty,' said Jarl. 'He did what a Rovac warrior is sworn to do. He moved against the wizards when the time was right. This Morgan Hearst is the traitor. Hearst should have thrown in his lot with Alish. Instead, Hearst stole the death-stone from Runcorn and brought it south.'
'If you think so highly of Alish,' said Sarazin, 'why don't you go to Runcorn to join him?'
'I've no need to go to Runcorn,' said Jarl. 'Alish is already in the Harvest Plains. He's seized Androlmarphos.' 'What?!' said Sarazin. 'It's true,' said Jarl, wearily.
And explained.
Jarl's men had finally got the material they needed to blackmail Qolidian. Then they had explained to Qolidian that he had but two choices: to commit suicide or to throw in his lot with them.
Unfortunately, Qolidian had a third option. He had taken it.
He had accepted bribes from Elkor Alish, had arranged for the garrison to be poisoned, and had helped the foreign marauder invade the city from the sea.
'I was the first person out of 'Marphos,' said Jarl. 'I took a string of horses and I rode. Three drowned in river crossings, two dropped dead beneath me – but I got here. I'm the first to bring the news to Selzirk. And you're the first to hear.'
'I don't understand,' said Sarazin. 'How could Alish come by the ships to move an army? Spies suggest-'
'The pirates are in on it too,' said Jarl, bluntly. 'Alish is in league with the Orfus pirates of the Greater Teeth. That's where the ships come from, there's no secret about that.'
'He's doomed himself!' said Sarazin. 'We'll take the death-stone and trash his army in an instant.'
'And trash 'Marphos as well?' said Jarl. 'Would your mother permit that? Alish has the whole city as hostage. This business will not be swiftly settled. But we must make a decision – and swiftly.' 'What decision?' said Sarazin.
'Do you not see it?' said Jarl, so weary he was almost weeping. 'All hopes of conspiracy are gone. Power is no longer split between kingmaker and Regency. Your mother has won that battle in her own right. If we could have won 'Marphos we could have had a chance. But as it is…'
'We could throw in our lot with Alish,' said Sarazin drily.
Yes!' said Jarl, with sudden fervour. 'I didn't think you'd be game to do it, but that's it, yes, that's the
