Prince Eselne would require much assistance to overcome his brothers and his sister in the Kolumejalim, the Rite of the Choosing of Emperors, Taluvaz thought. He might win over Hrugga himself in the trials of physical endurance and soldierly prowess, but he would have to choose his allotted three champions carefully from amongst the best of his followers to defeat Mridobu or Dhich’une-both shrewd and devious men-in the contests of cleverness, knowledge, statecraft, and sorcery that must follow. No, this man might be what the Tsolyani Imperium needed-a glorious soldier-emperor figurehead-but the priests who oversaw the Kolumejalim would be hard put to make him win it!
Taluvaz’ superiors in Tsamra wanted Prince Eselne to gain the Petal Throne. He was precisely what was needed for Livyanu’s broader goals.
Prince Eselne wore only a breechclout and a light shirt of Thesun-gdMze. A heap of Chlen-hide swords-and two that glittered with the silvery grey of rare iron-lay upon the carpet before the two Tsolyani, attesting to the topic of their conversation.
This was good; the audience would be informal, just what was needed. It would have been impossible to speak freely in some stilted court ceremonial. Taluvaz’ agents in Khirgar had given excellent counsel: this Prince was best approached as one soldier speaking to another. Taluvaz took only a moment to push his own more delicate tastes to the back of his mind and take on the outward attitudes of a tough man of affairs. This was another reason why the High Council in Tsamra had chosen him for this mission.
“Most gracious Prince-” Taluvaz bowed and launched into the required roster of honorifics. Even this was too much; he was cut short.
“Ohe, Lord Taluvaz! I see you have ascended to our eyrie once again.” Prince Eselne omitted the “you of wide journeying,” appropriate to a high-ranking foreigner, and used the simple “noble you” instead. His voice was light and smooth, a trifle too gentle for the gruff soldierly picture he wanted to project.
“Most mighty Prince, accept the gifts of Tsamra!” That ought to be short enough! Taluvaz’ slaves obediently began opening chests and parcels wrapped in brocaded Giidru- cloth.
Eselne waved them aside. “Accepted, with thanks. Give them to Shiretla-the chamberlain who brought you.”
This Prince moved faster than common etiquette allowed! Taluvaz struggled to keep in character. A glance sent the slaves scurrying from the room, packages and all.
“Know you my Senior General, Lord Kettukal hiMraktine?”
The fame of this man-and the intrigues that had for a time cost him his generalship of the First Legion-were indeed part of Taluvaz’ briefing. It had taken the war with Yan Kor to persuade the Imperium to bring General Kettukal out of semi-exile in Chene Ho and put him back in command of his troops! Taluvaz kept this from his face and made polite responses.
“Get the money for the steel weapons from Shiretla,” the Prince gestured to the General. “The Chlen — hide swords are too poor to be worth buying. I’d have the smith-tanners impaled were they not clan-cousins of the dung-smeared pederast who passes for a governor here. Send them back and demand better.”
General Kettukal grinned, reminding Taluvaz of the stone. Sro-dragon on the cornice of Lord Qame’el’s temple in Tsamra. If his information was correct, this stocky, leather-faced soldier was the best tactician the Tsolyani had. He would be useful in today’s discussion, though possibly dangerous. The General snapped his fingers, and a servant appeared from a concealed doorway to gather up the offending weapons and carry them away.
“Now. Sing your song, noble Taluvaz. Two days back you offered us a pretty melody or two. I want my Lord Kettukal to hear it.”
So the Prince needed advice from his backers in the Military Party? The General’s presence today was certainly no casual accident. Taluvaz swung smoothly into his argument, omitting the usual preamble of eulogies.
“Mighty Prince, as I humbly urged two days back, we in Livyanu have for centuries endured the wicked attacks of the pirates of the Tsolei Archipelago. Each year, when the sea winds are right, they come forth to raid our provinces of Kakarsh and Nufersh. As you and noble General Kettukal are no doubt aware-’ ’
“Yes, yes,” the Prince interrupted, “your High Council of the Priesthoods now proposes to take several legions away from your northern frontier with Mu’ugalavya and sail off westward to gobble up Tsolei.”
General Kettukal’s grimace became wider.
Prince Eselne raised a fingertip to his cheek to express a clever discovery. “A neat and timely move! A handful of miserable white counters captured with a very few black ones. But nice because you then control the Sea of Aishul and the Gulf of Teriyal and block the Red-Hats of Mu’ugalavya from expansion farther west. Nice, if done smoothly.”
“Also an end to Shenyu’s hegemony over the southern ocean there, and a bridge to the unexplored and uninhabited lands of the southern continent, eh?” General Kettukal remarked in a rumbling bass voice. The slavegirl proferred brass cups of Chumetl to the three men. Kettukal drank his off at one gulp. “I assume there’s a turd in the stew somewhere?”
Eselne smiled broadly. “La, my Lord, no turd at all-only a lack of meat! Our noble Livyani friends have not the troops to hold their enclave north of the Tlashte Heights against the Mu’ugalavyani and swat the pirates of Tsolei both at once! Hence our distinguished Lord Taluvaz, come all this way to push us to push my father to push the Mu’ugalavyani, who can then not afford to push down into Livyanu and seize Neihai or Khemektu.” He made little brushing motions with his fingers, as an apothecary sweeps powders into a prescription-paper.
General Kettukal had the look of a stone idol receiving sacrifice. “Ohe, but what would Tsolyanu gain from joining in this feast?
A chance, perhaps, to go to war with the Red-Hats of Ssa’atis? As though we have not enough to do with the Yan Koryani invasion! Three months, and we have yet to regain the Atkolel Heights-and the Baron’s armies threaten both Chene Ho and Khirgar here!”
Taluvaz made no reply. These devotees of the war-gods had a disconcerting habit of dumping all their couners out openly upon the board. It was like talking to an Ahoggya-or, worse, to a literal-minded Tinaliya! He sipped at the Chumetl the girl had brought him-and nearly spat it out upon the delicate wine-coloured carpet; the wench had laced it with too much hot Hling- seed! The Prince and the General seemed oblivious to his distress.
Prince Eselne rubbed his cleft chin. “If only that idiotic worm-kissing officer had not started the war with Yan Kor before we were ready to strike!” He made an obscene gesture. “All over a fine sense of noble dignity! If the fellow had been in one of my Legions instead of Dhich’une’s Battalions of the Seal of the Worm, his heart would have been steaming upon Lord Karakan’s altars long ago!”
No reply seemed to be expected. All three were silent for a time. The Prince mused. General Kettukal peered into his cup.
Eselne spoke again. “The Baron sits upon the Atkolel Heights. His troops occupy Pijena. His ‘Weapon Without Answer’ pushes south towards Khirgar-or possibly southwest to Chene Ho, whichever he sees the weaker. The Salarvyani on our eastern frontiers nibble at Chaigari and Kerunan. My God-Emperor father grows old, and my brothers oppose me-Mridobu and Dhich’une-Rereshqala is too busy with his scholars and his concubines to compete for the Gold. My sister Ma’in Kruthai might well marry me, as is our custom, and exchange Imperial rule for a quiet life in the Golden Tower. But she might also draw enough support from the temples of the two Goddesses and their Cohorts to stand by herself in the Kolumejalim…”
He took a turn about the room, strong splayed toes digging into the fragile arabesques of the carpet. “Now too, of all times, the priesthood of Thumis chooses to bring forth one of my father’s brood of secret heirs, the whimpering little temple clerk Surundano. Damn their High Adept Gamulu and his old toady, Lord Durugen hiNashomai! Half of my support amongst the temples of the Lords of Stability either disappears or wavers like smoke in the wind!”
Taluvaz had heard about these manoeuvrings of Imperial politics. They complicated the lives of diplomats, he thought, but that was the nature of the task.
The Prince rounded to face Taluvaz. “It might be well for us to aid you Livyani in your little excursion. If we cannot keep the Mu’ugalavyani off our western flank-and out of an alliance with the Baron-the Empire will be as luckless as a Chlen — beast beset from all sides by Zrnel'
As though hearing its name mentioned, the Chlen outside bellowed, shaking the marble window-lattices. Taluvaz and the three slavegirls were the only ones who appeared to notice.
