in everyone else’s eyes, and all the indications are that Tellian’s partisans are already taking that into their calculations. If the entire Kingdom looks like going up in flames, who’s going to believe his shift wasn’t orchestrated ahead of time as part of whatever Cassan’s up to, however hard he denies it?” the younger wizard shook his head. “No, if Arthnar’s men pull this off, Borandas isn’t going to have much choice but to back his son’s new father-in-law, especially if Tellian and his faction are saddled with responsibility for the King’s assassination. Brayahs would have a hard time undoing that even if he figured out that you’ve been meddling with Bronzehelm’s mind.”
He paused, eyebrow still arched, until Varnaythus nodded back to him. The older wizard remained uneasy over the possibility that Brayahs might realize someone was using wizardry to manipulate the Great Council’s members. If he did come to that conclusion, the logical thing for him to do, as one of the King’s trusted mage investigators, would be to warn Markhos, and the fact that he was a wind-walker made him just the man to do it. The last thing they needed was for the King and his personal guard to take additional precautions or even withdraw entirely from Chergor to the safety of Balthar. Fortunately, Varnaythus had learned and deduced enough about mage talents to construct a trap spell barrier around Chergor which he was reasonably confident would kill even a wind-walker if he tried to cross it. Un fortunately, he was only reasonably confident, since there’d never been any opportunity to test the underlying theory upon which it was based.
“Fourth,” Sahrdohr went on after a moment, continuing his count, “Tellian is going to be at Chergor when Arthnar’s men attack after all.” He smiled unpleasantly. “I really thought he’d spend longer at home with his wife after being away so much of the summer. It’s a pity that attentiveness to duty of his isn’t going to be better rewarded.”
He contemplated the four extended fingers of his left hand for a moment longer, then leaned back in his comfortable chair and raised both hands, palm uppermost.
“I’ll admit it’s unlikely we’re going to run the board and succeed everywhere,” he said, “but we really only have to succeed partially to accomplish what They sent us here to do. And there’s still all that marvelous potential where the Purple Lords are concerned, after Kilthan and his canal cut off their entire economy at the knees!” He shook his head. “Even granting all the things that can still go wrong, the odds are heavily on our side, Varnaythus.”
“And if someone on the other side knows what They’re doing-or what They have us doing, at any rate?” Varnaythus challenged.
“If Tomanak or any of the others realized what was happening, They’d have already taken steps to stop us,” Sahrdohr said confidently. “Because, frankly, by this point, I don’t see anything They could do to prevent our basic strategy from biting Them right on the arse. There just isn’t enough time for anyone on the other side to adjust their positions enough to stop us before we actually hit them.”
“Probably not,” Varnaythus conceded. “On the other hand, I suspect Jerghar, Paratha, and Dahlaha thought that right up to the last minute the last time, too. I know we don’t have people running off in all directions at once the way those three managed, but that doesn’t mean it can’t still come apart on us.”
“No,” Sahrdohr agreed. “But in a worst-case situation, there’s still the karsalhain.” He shrugged. “Coming out into the open with the art may be a last resort, but at least we can still guarantee that Markhos, Tellian, and everyone else in Chergor dies, whatever else happens. It won’t be as neat, and it won’t be as precisely targeted as we wanted, but it may actually work out even better, especially if Borandas and the wind riders decide Cassan was behind it. They won’t have any choice but to move against him if they think he’s been hobnobbing with Carnadosans, Varnaythus, and Yeraghor won’t have any choice but to back him, because they’ve been joined at the hip for so long no one would believe he hadn’t known exactly what Cassan was up to all along. That gives us a brand-new Time of Troubles, and there’s no telling how many fish we could land out of waters that troubled!”
Varnaythus was forced to nod again, although he dearly hoped to avoid using the karsalhain. Someone like Wencit of Rum was entirely too likely to be able to track that sort of working back to its caster. It would probably take him quite a while, but one thing wild wizards had plenty of was time, and if he did succeed, the result could be decidedly fatal for the caster in question.
At least you haven’t done a single thing to attract Wencit’s attention back to the Wind Plain yet, he reminded himself. And Sahrdohr’s right; the karsalhain is definitely a “last resort”…and one it doesn’t look like we’re going to need. Not when not a single one of them so much as suspects what’s coming at them.
“Shahana?”
Shahana Lillinarafressa sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. It was pitch black outside the windows of her austerely appointed sleeping chamber in the Quaysar temple, but the chamber itself was filled with gentle, silvery illumination. There might not be any moon in the heavens over Quaysar, but there was one-or at least the light of one-in Shahana’s bedroom, flowing from the dark-haired, dark-eyed woman standing in her doorway. The Quaysar Voice was slender and quite tall, and she kept herself physically fit, yet she was also in her forties, and her hair was just touched with the first strands of frost.
“Yes?” Shahana rubbed her eyes again, grateful that the Voice had decided to call the Mother’s light rather than carry a lit lamp with her. Being awakened in the middle of the night was bad enough without having bright light blasting into her darkness-accustomed eyes.
“I’m sorry to disturb you.” The Voice smiled crookedly as if she’d been able to read Shahana’s thoughts. Which, the arm conceded, she might very well have managed to do. Some of the Voices could read thoughts, after all.
“I assume you wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been necessary,” Shahana said.
“No, I wouldn’t,” the Voice agreed. “You have to leave for Kalatha. Now, I’m afraid.”
“Now?” Shahana repeated. “You mean as in right now, in the middle of the night?” Her tone made it clear she wasn’t complaining, merely making certain she’d understood correctly, and the Voice nodded. “May I ask why I’m leaving for Kalatha?”
“You can ask, but I can’t tell you,” the Voice said wryly, and this time the arm’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “I would if I knew,” the Voice continued, “but I’m afraid She didn’t tell me, either.” She shrugged. “I got the impression it has something to do with young Leeana and that whole business about her marrying Bahzell, but it was only an impression, Shahana. I wouldn’t depend too heavily on it, if I were you.”
“It’s not like Her to be quite that vague,” Shahana said, and the Voice snorted.
“I’ve been listening to Her for over twelve years now, Shahana, and I’ve discovered She’s never vague. When she seems to’ve been, it usually turns out we simply didn’t know enough about what was going on-then-to realize She was actually being quite specific. Unfortunately, in this case, I don’t have a clue what She has in mind.”
“Well,” Shahana said philosophically, climbing out of bed and reaching for her clothing, “I suppose we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?”
Chapter Thirty-One
“Good afternoon, Master Brayahs,” the armsman in the crimson and silver of House Daggeraxe said.
“Good afternoon, Sergeant. I’d like to see Baron Borandas, please.”
The sergeant outside the closed door considered Brayahs Daggeraxe thoughtfully. There’d been a time when Brayahs had been one of Borandas’ most trusted advisers, and the sergeant knew he was still extremely close to the baron and his baroness. But he also knew Brayahs had been chosen as one of the King’s magi, with his oath given to the Crown first and Halthar second, and that imposed certain constraints.
“Your pardon, Master Brayahs,” the sergeant said, “but the Baron is conferring with Sir Dahlnar. Perhaps it would be better if you came back later.”
“I realize he’s meeting with Sir Dahlnar,” Brayahs replied, returning his regard steadily. “In fact, I really need to speak to both of them. Please announce me and ask if they can see me now.”
The sergeant stood thinking for another moment, then made his decision. Baron Borandas valued judgment in his armsmen, and he expected his senior noncoms to use that judgment.
“Wait here, please,” he said, He turned, knocked once on the closed door, and then opened it and stepped
