Yurokhas the Purple Lords-or even, perhaps, Baron Cassan — had been behind it, he’d undoubtedly get everything he wanted all along.”
“No one who actually knows Tellian would believe that for a moment,” Arthnar said, but his tone was thoughtful, not an objection.
“Perhaps not, but how many people do actually know him?” Varnaythus riposted. “And the gods know ambition can make a man do strange things. For that matter, Tellian’s used up a huge amount of his credit with the more conservative lords warden over this business with Bahnak and his friendship with Prince Bahzell. None of the conservatives are happy with that, and they’re going to be even less happy when the word finally leaks out to the Kingdom as a whole that Tellian’s daughter is actually sleeping with Bahzell!”
“She’s what? ” Arthnar blinked in astonishment, and Varnaythus allowed himself a laugh.
“That’s exactly what she’s doing, and when the real conservatives find out, they’re probably going to think she should’ve gone ahead and bedded a donkey, instead. It certainly wouldn’t have been any worse, by their way of thinking, and given the way diehard Sothoii think, the insult and ‘perversion’ involved in that is far more likely to generate disgust and revulsion than any mere matter of high treason and murder! And the political infighting in Sothofalas this year’s been the bitterest anyone can remember, Arthnar. Tellian’s opponents are going to be more than ready to believe the worst, especially if believing it-however ridiculous it might be-lets them knock him out of the saddle. For that matter, given the nastiness of the fight, even some of Tellian’s supporters are likely to find themselves wondering how far he might be willing to go to win, especially given that charter Cassan will ‘find.’ After all, if he’s discovered that the King’s been playing him along all the while-that he’s actually decided to support Cassan and only pretended to be favoring Tellian to put him off guard-who knows how he might have reacted? All of that’s going to be running through the backs of their brains, whether they think it’s likely or not. However you look at it, tensions are going to run high, suspicion is going to be everywhere, and fingers are going to be pointing in every imaginable direction while people look for enemies and try to square old accounts. If the North Riding throws its support to Cassan and Yeraghor on the Great Council, that should be enough to carry the day at least long enough to get one of them named Regent. And once one of them is named Regent, Tellian is done.”
Arthnar sat back in his own chair, tugging at his beard while he thought hard. He stayed that way for the better part of three minutes, then refocused his gaze on Varnaythus.
“That all sounds well and good, and it might even work. But I’m not prepared to just write Tellian off. He’s too tough a customer, and much as I might like to see his head on a pike somewhere, I’m not stupid enough to underestimate him. There’s not an ounce of give in him, and if someone starts accusing him of murdering the King, he’s not going to sit back and take it.”
“He might, if the alternative were a return to the Time of Troubles,” Varnaythus pointed out. “Especially if Cassan and Yeraghor were to officially declare that since there’s no real proof he was behind it, they personally were prepared to take his word that he wasn’t. With the understanding, of course, that if he raises a ruckus they’ll decide not to take his word.”
“He might, and if pigs had wings they ‘ might’ be pigeons!” Arthnar snorted. “More likely, though, he’d call out his armsmen and cut a swath clear across the South Riding on his way to the East Riding!”
“He might,” Varnaythus replied, deliberately reusing the same two words. “If he was alive, of course.”
“Excuse me? Was there some part of this master plan you’d forgotten to mention to me?” Arthnar demanded caustically.
“Well, ideally, Baron Cassan will become aware-belatedly, I’m afraid-that a large body of mercenaries has crossed part of the South Riding on its way towards Chergor. One of the mercenaries in question will have fallen into his hands, perhaps. Or possibly the poor fellow fell off his horse and broke his neck, and Cassan’s armsmen found some incriminating document in his saddle bag. At any rate, Cassan will discover that this body of mercenaries is headed towards Chergor, apparently in the Purple Lords’ pay, although that could turn out to be purely a clever bit of camouflage on the part of someone else, like, oh, Baron Tellian. Knowing His Majesty is at Chergor, Cassan will immediately call out his own armsmen and ride in pursuit to attempt to rescue the King. He’ll send a warning to Balthar, too, of course-the fact that he and Tellian have their differences couldn’t possibly be allowed to stand in the way of protecting the King! Unfortunately, it’s a long way from Toramos to Balthar, so it’s most unlikely his messenger will be able to get there in time.
“Meanwhile, Cassan will ride hell-for-leather for Chergor in person. Hopefully, despite his heroic efforts, he’ll arrive just too late, and the mercenaries will have killed everyone at Chergor, including Baron Tellian who-in this version, of course-will have fallen fighting desperately in the King’s defense against the Purple Lords’ assassins. Should that have happened, Cassan will do his level best to take at least some of the assassins alive to be interogated before magi and prove he had nothing to do with the plot. If, however, Cassan is unlucky enough to arrive before that moment, or if it should happen the King’s guard manages to fight off the mercenaries, then Cassan will discover that Tellian was actually behind it. And when he summons Tellian to surrender to give an account of this tragic assassination to the Great Council, Tellian will refuse and be killed by the loyal armsmen trying to take him into custody. Of course, the King will have to already be dead before that happens to make everything work out properly, but I’m sure Cassan can handle a little creative rearrangement of the chronology if he has to.
“As far as Baron Cassan is concerned, either of those outcomes is quite acceptable, although he’d obviously prefer the first one. If Tellian doesn’t happen to be at Chergor, instead-he hasn’t been home to Balthar in quite some time, and it’s entirely possible he’ll be off on a visit at the critical moment-then Cassan would be forced to fall back on the charter in his possession to prove-or at least strongly suggest-Tellian’s involvement. Obviously, it would be far more convenient if he didn’t have to do that.”
“And Yurokhas and Trianal?”
“I think it’s entirely possible both of them might end up dead even before the King, given the little surprise I’ve arranged on the Ghoul Moor.” Varnaythus smiled unpleasantly. “It’s a remarkably nasty surprise, if I do say so myself. And on top of that, I understand Baron Cassan has sent a rather skilled specialist of his own-a man who’s very good with an arbalest or a horse bow-to attend to the Prince. I’m sure that if the opportunity presents itself, Sir Trianal will receive the same treatment.”
“There are an awful lot of separate moving parts to this strategy of Cassan’s,” Arthnar observed. From his tone-and from the look in the narrowed eyes gazing at Varnaythus-an unbiased witness might have concluded that the Fire Oar was less than convinced Cassan had come up with the idea all on his own. “Any one of them, or all of them, could come apart.”
“That’s possible,” Varnaythus conceded. “I think it’s highly unlikely all of them would fail, however. They might, and I won’t pretend that couldn’t happen, but how much worse off would you be if it did?”
“You mean if King Markhos, and Baron Tellian, and Prince Yurokhas, and Bahnak, and Bahzell, and Kilthan, and the gods only know who else, all survive and every one of them wants my blood for helping Cassan try to kill them?” Arthnar asked acidly.
“That would require them to know that, though,” Varnaythus pointed out. “It’s the Purple Lords hiring the mercenaries, if I recall properly.”
“And you think Markhos and his magi wouldn’t be able to get the truth out of Cassan?” Arthnar’s tone had gone beyond acid to derisive, and Varnaythus allowed himself a chuckle.
It was a remarkably cold chuckle, the Fire Oar noticed.
“I’m afraid Baron Cassan knows too much about my own business in the Kingdom,” he said. “I won’t bore you with all the minor details,” he waved his right hand in a brushing away gesture, “but let’s say it could be… inconvenient for me if he were to be properly interrogated by the King’s investigators.”
“You seem remarkably unconcerned about the possibility,” Arthnar said slowly, and Varnaythus shrugged.
“Let’s just say I’ve taken certain precautions to make certain that doesn’t happen. Of course, I might still find it expedient to take a short vacation someplace besides the Wind Plain-just for a year or two, perhaps, while things quiet down again. I was thinking about Krelik, as a matter of fact. I’m sure a Fleet Captain of your stature could find some minor service a man of my talents might perform to repay you for your hospitality.”
“Oh, I imagine I could,” Arthnar agreed after a moment. “If I really thought about it for a while, I mean.”
And he smiled.
