The food, as usual in the palace, was splendid. He gave it less attention than was his habit, and he was moderate with his wine, calling for quince and rhubarb sherbets more often than he did for the captured Videssian vintages Sharbaraz served his grandees. He directed more attention to his ears than to his tongue, trying to catch what Tzikas was saying behind his back.
Tzikas had been saying things behind his back since not long after the Videssian had fled the Avtokrator he had formerly served. He hadn't thought Abivard knew about that—and indeed, Abivard hadn't known about it till almost too late. Now, though, he had to think Abivard would hear him, and that, to Abivard's way of thinking, would have been the best possible reason for him to keep his mouth shut.
Maybe Tzikas didn't know how to keep his mouth shut Maybe he could no more stop intriguing than he could stop breathing: he might claim to worship the God, but he remained Videssian to the core. Or maybe he just did not really believe Abivard could overhear. Whatever the reason, his tongue rolled on without the least hesitation.
Abivard could not make out everything he said, but what he caught was plenty:'—my victory over Maniakes by the banks of the Tib—» Tzikas was saying to someone who hadn't been there and couldn't contradict him. He sounded most convincing, but then, he always did.
When Abivard turned toward Tzikas, Roshnani set a warning hand on his arm. He usually took her warnings more seriously than he did now. Smiling a smile that had little to do with amiability, he said, «When you came to Mashiz, Tzikas, you should have set up shop in the bazaar, not the palace.»
«Oh?» Tzikas said, staring at him as if he'd just crawled out from under a flat stone. «And why is that?» No matter how he aped Makuraner ways, the renegade kept all his Videssian arrogance, remaining convinced that he was and had to be the cleverest man around.
Smiling, Abivard sank his barb: «Because then you could have sold your lies wholesale instead of doling them out one by one the way you do here.»
Tzikas glowered at him. «I am not the one who handed my subordinate to the enemy,» he said.
«True enough—you don't do things like that,» Abivard agreed. «Your subordinates are safe from you. It's your superiors who have to have eyes in the backs of their heads. What would you have done if you had killed Maniakes by magic and made yourself Avtokrator of the Videssians?»
«Beaten you,» Tzikas said. Yes, he had his own full measure and to spare of the overweening pride that singularly failed to endear the imperials to the men of Makuran.
But when Abivard said «I doubt it,» that didn't merely spring from his angry reaction to the renegade's words. However skilled an intriguer Tzikas was, Abivard was convinced he had his measure in the field. Lightly, casually, he went on, «That wasn't what I meant, anyhow.»
«What did you mean?» Now Tzikas sounded ominous, beginning to realize Abivard was scoring off him.
Abivard scored again: «I meant you'd be bored sitting on the throne with no one in Videssos to betray.»
Tzikas glared at him; that had gotten to the renegade, even though the odds were good that it wasn't true. An intriguer would hardly stop intriguing because he'd schemed his way to the top. He'd sit up there and scheme against all those—and there would surely be some—who'd try to follow him and pull him down. And even if he saw no one who looked dangerous, he would probably destroy a courtier every now and then for the sport of it and to keep rivals wary.
«If you want me to prove what sort of liar you are, I will meet you when and where you like, with the weapons you like,» Tzikas said.
Abivard beamed at him. «The first generous offer you've made! We've tried to kill each other before; now I can do it properly.»
«It is forbidden,» Yeliif said. Abivard and Tzikas both stared in startlement at the beautiful eunuch. Yeliif went on, «Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his years be many and his realm increase, has let me know he requires both of you for the enterprise he contemplates beginning next spring.»
«What is this fabled enterprise?» Tzikas demanded. Good, Abivard thought. Yeliif wasn't lying to me— Tzikas doesn't know, either. He would have been offended to the core had Sharbaraz enlightened the Videssian renegade while leaving him in the dark.
Yeliif sniffed. «When the proper time for you to gain that knowledge comes, rest assured it shall be provided to you. Until such time cherish the fact that you will be preserved alive to acquire the knowledge when the time comes.»
«He certainly doesn't deserve to live to find out,» Abivard said.
«At one time or another a good many have expressed the opinion that you yourself did not merit remaining among the living,» the beautiful eunuch replied coldly. Abivard knew full well he had been among the leaders of those expressing that opinion.
Injustice still stung him. «Some people thought I was too successful, and so I had to be a traitor on account of that. But everyone knows Tzikas is a traitor. He doesn't even bother pretending not to be.»
«So he doesn't,» Yeliif said, favoring Tzikas with a glance as icy as any with which he had ever chilled Abivard. «But a known traitor has his uses, provided he is watched at all times. The King of Kings intends to get such use as he can from the renegade.»
Abivard nodded. Where Tzikas was concerned, Sharbaraz had less to worry about than did Maniakes. Tzikas had already tried to steal the Videssian throne. Whatever else he might do, he could not set himself up as King of Kings of Makuran.
That didn't mean he could not aspire to any number of lesser but still prominent offices in Makuran, such as the one Abivard had. He'd already aspired to that office and done his best to throw Abivard out of it. He'd do the same again if he saw a chance and thought Sharbaraz would look the other way.
Abivard made a solemn resolution: regardless of whether Sharbaraz intended using Tzikas in this grand scheme of his, whatever it was, he was going to take out the Videssian renegade if he saw even the slightest chance of doing so. He could always apologize to the King of Kings afterward, and had no intention of granting Tzikas the same chance.
Winter dragged on. The children got to go out into the courtyard now, as they hadn't in years gone by. Even Gulshahr was old enough now to pack snow into a ball and throw it at her brothers. Doing that left her squealing with glee.
Videssian captives tutored Varaz and Shahin. Abivard's sons took to lessons with the same enthusiasm they would have shown taking poison. He walloped them on the backside and kept them at it.
«We already know how to speak Videssian,» Varaz protested. «Why do we have to know how to make speeches in it?»
«And all these numbers, too,» Shahin added. «It's like they're all pieces of a puzzle, and they're all scrambled up, and the Videssians expect us to be able to put them together as easy as anything.» He stuck out his lower tip. «It's not fair.» That was the worst condemnation he could give to anything not to his liking.
«Being able to count past ten without having to take off your shoes won't kill you,» Abivard said. He rounded on Varaz. «You'll be dealing with Videssians your whole life, most likely. Knowing how to impress them when you talk won't do you any lasting harm.»
«When you first went into Videssos, did you know how to speak the language there?» Varaz asked.
«Not so you'd notice,» Abivard answered. «But remember, I grew up in the far Northwest, and I never expected to go into Videssos at all, except maybe as a soldier in an invading army.» He folded his arms across his chest. «You'll keep on with your lessons,» he declared as firmly as Sharbaraz promulgating a decree. The King of Kings could make the whole of Makuran heed him. Abivard's authority was less than that but did extend to his two boys.
They studied more than mathematics and rhetoric. They rode ponies, shot bows suited to their strength, and began to learn swordplay. They would acquire a Videssian veneer—Abivard was convinced it would prove useful—but beneath it would have the accomplishments of a proper Makuraner noble.
«The more different things you know how to do, the better off you'll be,» Abivard told them.
The man that thought called to mind, unfortunately, was Tzikas. The Videssian renegade knew not only his own tongue but that of Makuran as well. He could tell convincing stories in either one. He was a talented soldier to boot. If he'd been only a little luckier, he would have been Avtokrator of the Videssians or perhaps commander of
