this. How long did it take his message to get here, My Lord?”
“The better part of three months.” Gray Harbor’s sour tone acknowledged Nahrmahn’s point. “I can’t know what route it followed, but assuming it went downriver from Talkyra to Ferayd or Sarmouth before it found a ship to bring it to Tellesberg, it had over fifteen thousand miles to travel. Which means it actually made excellent time to get here as quickly as it did.”
“But that’s the sort of delay that introduces all sorts of potential ‘cooling-off periods’ into the courtship,” Nahrmahn said. “And to be honest, the sort of thing that’s most likely to force Coris’ hand is also likely to come up in a much shorter time window than that. If he suddenly discovers Daivyn’s in active danger from Clyntahn, for example, taking three months to get a message to us would make it all but impossible to coordinate any effective response with us. A six-month two-way communications time?” The Emeraldian shook his head. “That may work for the normal political seduction, but it won’t in any sort of emergency situation.”
“That’s true, of course,” Gray Harbor admitted. “We’re still better off than we were, though, Your Highness.”
“Oh, I agree!” Nahrmahn nodded vigorously. “It’s just that I think we might be able to… speed up message times. From his end to us, at least.”
“And just how might we accomplish that?” Cayleb asked, sitting back and looking rather intently at the no longer quite so plump prince.
“Well, it occurs to me, Your Majesty, that I may have forgotten to mention one small capability of my erstwhile anti-Charisian intelligence service,” Nahrmahn said with a charming smile. “As I’m sure you’re aware, Emerald’s always been famous for its racing, hunting, and messenger wyverns.”
“I do seem to recall something about a wyvern salesman right here in Tellesberg, as a matter of fact,” Cayleb replied somewhat repressively.
“Yes, that was one of our better cover arrangements, I thought,” Nahrmahn agreed reminiscently. “It worked quite well for years.”
“And the reason for this trip down memory lane?” Cayleb inquired.
“As it happens, Your Majesty, our royal wyvern breeders have been attempting to improve our messenger wyvern stock for quite a long time now, and not simply to help our wyvernries’ sales. Some years ago-during my father’s reign, as a matter of fact-we got a rather unexpected result when we crossed the Dark Hill line from Corisande with our own Gray Pattern line.”
“Surely you’re not proposing sending Earl Coris messenger wyverns, Your Highness,” Gray Harbor said.
“That’s precisely what I’m proposing, My Lord,” Nahrmahn replied, and even Cayleb looked at him in disbelief.
Messenger wyverns had been a part of Safehold’s communications system since the Creation. Now that he had access to Owl, Cayleb also knew the original messenger wyverns had been genetically engineered by Pei Shan-wei’s terraforming teams to deliberately enhance the various breeds’ natural capabilities for the specific purpose of creating a low-tech means to help tie the original, scattered enclaves together. Bigger, stronger, and much tougher than Old Terran carrier pigeons, the wyverns Shan-wei had designed had fallen into two main categories, either of which could carry considerably heavier messages than their tiny Old Terran counterparts. They could even be used to carry small packages, although it wasn’t the most reliable possible way to deliver them.
The short-range breeds were faster, smaller, and more maneuverable than their larger brethren. Capable of speeds of up to sixty miles per hour (although some of the racing breeds had been clocked at over a hundred miles per hour in a sprint), their maximum effective flight range was mostly under six hundred miles, which meant they could deliver a message to their maximum range in as little as ten or eleven hours, on average. They were the most commonly used breeds, in large part because the logistics meant there was little call for ranges longer than that. Like carrier pigeons, they were a one-way communications system, since they returned only to the wyvernry they recognized as “home,” wherever that might be, which meant they had to be transported from their home to their point of release. Shuttling them back and forth by wagon or on lizardback over distances much greater than six hundred miles simply wasn’t practical for most people, although the Church and some of the larger mainland realms maintained special relay systems to supplement and back up the semaphore towers. In addition-and unlike carrier pigeons-they could be relatively quickly imprinted with another “home” wyvernry. In fact, it was necessary to take precautions to prevent that from happening inadvertently.
The longer-range wyverns were slower, but they also were capable of flights of up to four thousand miles. Indeed, there were rumors of legendary flights of up to five thousand, although substantiation for such claims was notoriously thin on the ground. Because they were slower-and because they had to stop to hunt and roost on the way-they were capable of no more than seven hundred and fifty miles per day under average conditions, but even that meant they could deliver a message over a four thousand-mile transit in less than six days. That was slower than the semaphore (under good visibility conditions, anyway), but faster than any other means of communications available… at least to those who didn’t have the advantage of communicators and satellite relays.
“As Rayjhis just pointed out, it’s fifteen thousand miles from here to Talkyra by ship and boat,” Cayleb said. “I realize it’s shorter than that in a direct line, but it’s still close to seven thousand miles even for a wyvern, Nahrmahn!”
“Yes, it is,” Nahrmahn agreed. “And it just happens I have at my disposal a breed of messenger wyvern capable of making flights at least that long.”
“I find that difficult-not impossible, Your Highness; just difficult-to believe,” Gray Harbor said after a moment. “If we really do have wyverns with that kind of range, however, I’m entirely in agreement with you. The question becomes how we get them to Earl Coris in the first place.”
“I’ve been thinking about that, too, My Lord,” Nahrmahn said with a smile, “and I think I know just the messenger, assuming we can contact him.”
He glanced at Cayleb, who raised his eyebrows.
“And exactly who were you thinking about calling upon?” the emperor inquired politely.
“It just occurred to me, Your Majesty, to wonder if you might have some means of getting into contact with Seijin Merlin’s friend Master Zhevons.” Nahrmahn smiled toothily at Cayleb’s expression. “He did so well at… motivating King Gorjah, and he’s obviously at home operating on the mainland. It just seems appropriate, somehow, to get him into touch with Earl Coris, as well. Who knows?” His smile faded suddenly, his eyes meeting Cayleb’s levelly. “It might just turn out that this is another situation that requires his special talents, Your Majesty.” . VI.
City of Gorath, Kingdom of Dohlar, and Royal Palace, Princedom of Corisande
“They’re here, My Lord,” Lieutenant Bahrdailahn said quietly.
“Thank you, Ahbail,” Lywys Gardynyr said. He inhaled deeply, squared his shoulders, and turned to face the cabin door. “Show them in, please.”
“Yes, My Lord.” The flag lieutenant bowed considerably more deeply than usual and disappeared. A moment later, he returned.
“Admiral Manthyr, Captain Braishair, and Captain Krugair, My Lord,” he announced unnecessarily, and Gardynyr bobbed his head to the newcomers.
“Gentlemen,” he said.
“Earl Thirsk,” Gwylym Manthyr replied for himself and his subordinates.
“I very much regret the necessity to summon you to this particular meeting,” Thirsk said levelly, “but in the name of what honor remains to me, I have no choice. Admiral Manthyr, you surrendered your ships and personnel to me after a most gallant and determined defense-one which still commands my admiration and professional respect. At that time, I promised you honorable treatment under the laws of war. I regret that I face you as a man forsworn.”
Bahrdailahn shifted slightly, face tightening in silent protest, but Thirsk continued in the same measured tone.
“I’m sure you recognized, as did I, that any promise on my part was subject to violation or outright revocation by my superiors or by Mother Church. As a loyal son of Mother Church it’s not my place to criticize or dispute her decisions; as an officer of the Royal Dohlaran Navy, I am ashamed.”
He looked directly into Manchyr’s eyes, hoping the Charisian saw the truth in his own.
“Your men have been badly enough abused in Dohlaran custody. The fact that I’ve done everything in my power to alleviate that abuse is no excuse for my failure to change it, nor will anything remove the stain of that
