other is of Videssian blood.»
«I knew that—or thought as much, anyhow,» Maniakes broke in. «If it weren't so, the Voimios strap conjuration we used last year would have confused you longer than it did.»
«Bad enough as things were.» Abivard shook his head. «Ride into a canal, head for the other side, and come back out where you started—as I say, bad. But does the truce hold for Panteles, too?»
«Aye, it does,» Maniakes answered. «He'll have to stay with you always, though. If he ever comes back into the Empire when he's not under your protection, his head goes up on the Milestone.»
«I agree,» Abivard said. «I would say the same if you had a Makuraner traitor in your midst, as Videssians have been known to do.»
«Speaking of traitors, how's Tzikas these days?» Rhegorios asked.
«Alive,» Abivard said. «Unfortunately. Sharbaraz thinks well of him, since he can't possibly aim to set his fundament on the throne of Mashiz.»
«That may matter less in the way you look at the world than it did a little while ago,» Maniakes observed.
«It may,» Abivard agreed. «And, then again, it may not.» He looked down at the parchment he was still holding and read through it again. «We shall see.»
Bringing the wizards over the Cattle Crossing without arousing undue suspicion proved easier than Maniakes had expected. When his envoy said they were needed for the truce talks, the Makuraners accepted that not only without hesitation but also without further questions. Panteles and Bozorg hopped into a Videssian boat, were rowed out to the Renewal, and traveled back to Videssos the city in the course of a couple of hours.
«If you're vague enough,» Maniakes said, watching the dromon tie up at the little palace-quarter harbor, «you can get away with anything.»
«What do you mean, vague?» Rhegorios' voice rose in mock indignation. «We didn't even tell any lies.»
Like Abivard, Maniakes was determined to observe the tests me Makuraner marshal's mages would use on the captured parchment That meant he had to have his own mages present, lest those working for the other side try to turn their sorcery against him. He would have summoned Bagdasares and Philetos in any case, to make sure Panteles and Bozorg did not try to feed Abivard results that were not true.
Bozorg examined the parchment with the air of a man looking Over a fish several days out of water. He was tall and thin and clever-looking, with the perfectly upright posture a column would have envied. At last, in grudging tones, he said, «It does have the look of a document that may perhaps—perhaps, I say, mind you—have come from the court of the King of Kings.» As he himself had come from the court of the King of Kings to serve Abivard, that was no small admission.
Panteles said nothing at all. Though he'd been promised safety while in Videssos the city, he had the air of a man ready to flee at any moment. Coming to the imperial capital seemed to have reminded him he was a Videssian, and therefore an embarrassment to other Videssians.
His conscience is still breathing, Maniakes thought. Coming here wouldn't bother Tzikas a bit.
Abivard told his mages, «I want you to let me know whether Maniakes is being more clever than he has any business being—» He sent the Avtokrator a look full of mistrustful warmth. «—or whether Sharbaraz really does want Romezan to drop me into the Void.»
«Lord, my own provenance will aid us in that,» Bozorg said, speaking elegant Makuraner. «By the law of contagion, both this letter and I are in contact with the court of the King of Kings, and thus with each other.»
«Go ahead, then. Do whatever you need to do,» Abivard said. Maniakes nodded. His heart sped up in his chest. Once Abivard was convinced—if Abivard was convinced—Sharbaraz wanted to be rid of him… All manner of interesting things might happen then.
Bozorg set the captured letter on a table, then strode across the chamber in the imperial residence till he stood next to the wall farthest from that table. «Once in contact, always in contact,» he said. «If this letter in fact emanates from the court of the King of Kings, the spell I am about to use will draw it to me once more. I begin.» Maniakes could follow spoken Makuraner, but caught only the occasional word of the wizard's chant. Philetos, though, was paying close attention, alert for any discrepancy from a spell and a type of spell evidently familiar to him.
Bozorg raised his hands and made a few passes with them: nothing complicated or ornate, which suggested to Maniakes that the spell was as basic as the arrogant Makuraner mage claimed. Bozorg called out in a loud, commanding voice—and the parchment flew across the room and came to rest on his right hand.
He looked from it to Maniakes to Abivard. Voice cautious, he said, «This does appear to indicate that the letter came from the court at Mashiz, as the Avtokrator of the Videssians has asserted.» That was no small admission; coming from the court himself, he was more likely to be a creature of Sharbaraz's than of Abivard's. Panteles walked over to him and took the parchment. Speaking Videssian, the mage said, «There is a simple test to see whether the letter is to be directly associated with the King of Kings.» He fumbled in his beltpouch, eventually drawing forth a new-minted silver arket. «Using this coin with Sharbaraz' image, we can apply the law of similarity to determine the relationship of the parchment to the King of Kings.»
«That is sound sorcery,» Bagdasares said. Philetos nodded. After a moment, so did Bozorg.
Maniakes glanced at Bagdasares with a certain amount of amusement. Not so long before, Bagdasares had used a Makuraner coin himself when he sorcerously spied on Abivard's conference with Etzilios. Though in his person far away in Mashiz, Sharbaraz played a vital role here.
The Videssian wizard in Abivard's pay went about his business with matter-of-fact competence. His spell, though carried out in Videssian, seemed closely related to the one Bozorg had used. He set the coin on the table where the Makuraner mage had placed the letter. Holding the sheet in his left hand, he began to chant.
«Wait,» Bagdasares said suddenly. He, too, produced a coin from his pouch: a goldpiece of Maniakes' minting. He put it on the table not far from the silver arket. «This will provide a check. If the parchment goes to it, you will know we seek to lead you astray.»
Panteles nodded his agreement to the change in the sorcery. So did Abivard, who said quietly, «If you are so sure you can prove your own innocence here, that is no small sign of it.»
Again, the Videssian mage began his chant. He let the parchment drop from his hand—but it did not fall to the floor. Floating in the air as if it were a wisp of smoke, it drifted toward the table on which rested the two coins, one Videssian, the other Makuraner. Even though Maniakes knew he had captured the message rather than fabricating it, he tensed. Maybe Panteles was clever enough to fool both Bagdasares and Philetos. Or maybe the magic would simply go wrong.
Softly, softly, the parchment descended on the arket blazoned with Sharbaraz's imperious profile. Maniakes heaved a sigh of relief. Abivard sighed, too: the sigh of a man who now had to choose a course he might have hoped to avoid. And all four mages in the chamber sighed as well, having shown their masters what was so and what was not.
Turning to Bozorg, Abivard spoke in his own language: «Tell me, my friend—do I deserve such treatment from Sharbaraz King of Kings?» He did not wish his overlord either long days or many years.
The Makuraner mage licked his lips. If he was from the court in Mashiz, he had to have risen under Sharbaraz's eye. And yet, by the way Abivard asked the question, Bozorg also seemed to have been with the Makuraner marshal for some time. Had that not been so, Abivard would have got rid of him on the instant—or Maniakes would have, in Abivard's position, to keep the mage from upsetting whatever plans he might make.
«Lord, I have seen you in war for some years now,» Bozorg said slowly. «All that Sharbaraz has asked of you, all that a man could do: this you have done. For him to pay you back by ordering you treacherously slain… lord, there is no justice in that. Tell me what to do. In any way I can, I shall aid you. By the God and the Prophets Four I swear it. May I be lost forever in the Void if I lie.»
«I stand with you, too, lord,» Panteles said quickly. Abivard nodded in absentminded acknowledgment. The Videssian who served him had little choice but to stay loyal: he couldn't return to his homeland, and who else among the Makuraners was likely to want him?
Abivard spoke wonderingly: «So it comes to this at last. I could have rebelled against the King of Kings half a dozen times, and always I held back, out of loyalty and because my sister Denak is his principal wife. Now I have no choice, not if I want to go on breathing.»
«Your sister had a son last year, I hear,» Maniakes said. «At last,» Abivard agreed, «and, I daresay, to
