Those same four who had met here before were gathered again: the Baron of Yan Kor, Lord Fu Shi’i, who was the Baron’s confidant, Prince Dhich’une of Tsolyanu, and the silent Mihalli whose globe of power enabled them to come together. They sat crosslegged upon a surface that was not earth or stone, but which served admirably as such.
“You summoned this meeting, Baron.” The white skull-face showed no emotion. A subtle hint of carefully leashed hatred showed in Prince Dhich’une’s posture, nevertheless.
“Not I. You.”
“Not either of you,” Lord Fu Shi’i said. “It was I.”
“You take much upon yourself!”
A long-fingered hand slid out to lie palm up upon Lord Fu Shi’i’s russet-garbed lap. “Your quarrel threatens both your interests, masters. Allow me to mediate, for I serve issues rather than men.”
“Speak.” Velvet rustled. This time Baron Aid wore no armour but a cowled, soft robe of dark forest green. He looked as though he had been called forth from his bed.
“Lord Baron, were we not the ones who sent Hele’a of Ghaton upon his journey?” Fu Shi’i inquired blandly.
Aid of Yan Kor scratched his stubbled cheeks, then grunted, “Who can dispute such a small matter?”
“And, great Prince, did you not reward Hele’a for his perfidy-as you saw it?”
The colourless lips moved, but no reply came.
“Both the sending of spies and the elimination of spies are the proper behaviour of rulers, as Amigga Mriddashte says in his treatise, ‘A Sceptre for Princes.’ Is it so?”
He waved down the words of protest that would have erupted from both sides and continued.
“Spies are thus a matter of statecraft, not an affair of honour upon which Shamtla — money is demanded and given. You are not merchants to wrangle over a false bargain in the marketplace. No, if both of you acted nobly, as princes should, then what blame can either attach to the other? Who censures whom?
The Baron was the first to respond. He chuckled. Then he glanced about as though seeking a goblet of something with which to toast Lord Fu Shi’i. There was nothing; perhaps there was no wine or anything else potable upon this strange, darkling Plane.
“But should I not ask Shamtla for those of mine who perished at the hands of the soldiers of noble Prince Dhich’une?” he asked. “Besides Hele’a-those who died in the Tolek Kana Pits, on the road to Purdimal, later in the stews beneath that city-?” “You lost only fools,” the Prince said. “One might argue that your network of agents, your Surgeth, is better off without them.”
“Perhaps. Or I might admit that one cannot win at Den-den without surrendering counters. Hele’a was at best a green. The others were no more than whites. And you may be a man or two-or a creature or two, at least- short as well.”
“My Lords,” Fu Shi’i interrupted, “this contact cannot last. Our meeting must be short. I pray you both to make peace-lay aside your grievances. Be reconciled-for now, if not forever.” “Yes, enough,” Baron Aid grumbled. “Let us roll up this scroll-for the present anyway. You did not summon me from my mistresses in order to have me clap the shoulder of sweet Prince Dhich’une and give him the kiss of peace! At least not without something drinkable to seal our troth! La, Lord Fu Shi’i, what is the urgency?”
“My sources-” A nod towards the Mihalli, who paid no heed whatsoever. “My sources tell me that the bird has flown from its tree. Even as we speak, mighty Prince, your servants pursue the priest-boy and his paramour through the Undercity below Purdimal.”
“They will soon take him.” The brown, fleshless hands clenched upon dun-robed knees. “This time I sent no white counters but rather blues and blacks. The task will be done, and the Man of Gold will be mine. Then I shall be in a position to honour our bargain-if you would still have it, Baron. ’ ’
“You need my favours now as never before, Prince. The weather has changed in your land, has it not? There are clouds of grey on one horizon and fiery orange-red on the other. Once you were four half-brothers and a half- sister who vied for the throne of your father. Now there are two more.”
“Let the temples and the clans bring forth half a hundred! Weak schoolboys like Surundano are an embarrassment to the Temple of Thumis-and to my divine father! He should have himself made a eunuch for spawning such an insipidity!”
“But the other, Prince Mirusiya, is no milksop, eh? A warrior of Lord Vimuhla’s Flame, raised by the quarrelsome Vriddi clan of Fasiltum! Not a pot easily piddled in.”
The skull-face turned from side to side. “Cha! Vimuhla’s flame-orange balances Karakan’s scarlet: Mirusiya against Eselne! Let them lose sleep over one another-and the favours of sister Ma’in Kriithai! Our other brother, Mridobu, will dandle first Eselne and then this new Mirusiya: half an army to each with which to fight your northerners, Baron-but not on the same front! Is this not good news for you? One force in the west under brave Eselne, and a second to Mirusiya in order that he may try the impossible in the east: march up through the Pass of Skulls, take Milumanaya, and come around to your back gate! You can defeat two halves of an army easier than one whole one.”
White teeth glittered in the black beard. “We are ready. Our troops hold the Atkolel Heights and welcome Prince Eselne’s coming. My generals hold counsel with the lords of Saa Allaqi at Tleku Miriya. Let your father give this Prince Mirusiya even two whole armies and offer him Milumanaya as the prize of his inheritance. He may take the dry wastelands there, and he may even reduce the city of Sunraya-a long and costly siege. But then I shall snap at him from the northwest, and the Saa Allaqiyani will pounce upon him from the east. He cannot maintain his lines of supply for long. The distance, the weather, and the size of his force preclude it. The tribes of the Desert of Sighs sing to my music too, not Tsolyanu’s. Eventually Mirusiya and his army will perish, and the sand-worms shall set a crown of brambles upon his skull!”
“Do not offer up paeans of victory to your gods too soon-!” “My Lo rds, my Lords,” Fu Shi’i interposed, “no need to battle chants and her oic speeches here in this place! We are not gathered to bandy tactics and the strategies of armies. We must come to a greater understanding. ”
“The priest and the Man of Gold?” Prince Dhich’une moved restlessly beneath his stiff, brocaded robes.
“Yes, Lord. Consider. There are others who would aid him.” “The Omnipotent Azure Legion?” the Prince raised two fingers in dismissal. “My people have led them a weary round. They are convinced that the priest-boy is dead-or fled out of the Empire. In any case Mridobu sets little store by this Man of Gold. His agents poked about beneath Purdimal, but now they seem to have given up the chase.”
“And I am told that the Livyani have taken up the game.” “WHAT? Fa ther of dungbeetles, WHY?” the Baron exploded. “Does every fish and fo wl in the Five Empires covet my-the wretched thing?”
“Their actions-and their goals-are unclear. Yet it was because of them that the Heheganu prodded the priest-boy out of his sanctuary.”
“They may know more of it than we,” the Prince mused. “Some use of it, some way to profit from it themselves-”
“To accomplish what?” Baron Aid clawed at his beard. “Victory over Mu’ugalavya? The conquest of the Isles of the Hliiss? The defeat of the Gods and the freeing of Lord Ksarul from his nap? The drying up of the sea and the extinguishing of the sun? Tsamra cannot possibly need such a device to conquer the Isles of Tsolei-those savages are chaff in the wind against any good military force!” He leaped up to pace to and fro.
The Mihalli lifted scarlet-glowing eyes from the globe in silent appeal. Lord Fu Shi’i arose to calm his master and sit him down again before the balance of that place that was not a place was overturned.
“Of course, Tsamra may not have a good military force,” Lord Fu Shi’i murmured. The others did not hear him.
“Baron, we are aware of the efficacy of the Man of Gold against your ‘Weapon Without Answer’-if either of them still operates after all these millennia.” The Prince ignored the black look he got. “This is why I would obtain it-both to keep my divine father’s legions from defeating you too handily before I can ascend the Petal Throne, and also to hold as a counter against you should you yearn to let your ‘Weapon’ carry you all the way to the walls of Avanthar!”
“I keep my oaths. Your northern cities-and General Kettukal hiMraktine-in return for my aid in seating you upon the Petal Throne!”
“As you say. But if the Livyani aid the priest to find the Man of Gold, and if they then use it-or bargain it off to the highest bidder amongst my fellow heirs-?”
