Veruna compound, but I wonder whether you’ve got any stolen goods or slaves stashed away in your mistress’s storehouses, Miskar. Trading in slaves is still against the harmach’s law, is it not?”
Rhovann studied the half-elf thoughtfully. As Miskar Bann observed, it was certainly possible that Geran and his sorcerer friend had been aided by one of the other merchant costers. Clearly House Sokol was not without sympathies for the Hulmaster cause, but it was also possible that a neutral company such as the Double Moon Coster might have aided the Hulmasters in order to weaken the Cinderfists. Unfortunately Rhovann had to exercise care in making any such accusations against one of the great Houses, lest he drive the merchant costers into closing ranks and defending their precious laws of concession. On the other hand, he had means to quietly spy out the Sokol compound without any public accusation necessary.
Miskar Bann bristled, but Captain Edelmark cleared his throat and spoke before the merchant lord. “The Council Guard will, of course, implement the lord harmach’s instructions immediately,” he said. “Disloyalty and sedition cannot be tolerated. But I fear that we are dealing with a symptom, not the disease. The ultimate source of this incipient rebellion is the Hulmaster enclave in Thentia. As long as the Hulmasters have a safe haven in Thentia to rebuild their army and foment trouble, we are threatened. If we want to put down this rebellion not just for this month but forever, we must deprive the Hulmasters of their refuge outside our borders!”
“What do you suggest, Captain?” the false Marstel asked.
“My lord, I propose that we muster the strongest army we can gather and march on Lasparhall. We can destroy the Hulmasters’ army before it organizes, seize their supplies and arms, and raze their barracks and the old manor for good measure. The Hulmaster cause could never recover from such a blow.”
Subtlety is not Edelmark’s strong suit, Rhovann reflected. He caught Marstel’s eye and gave an imperceptible shake of the head. Marstel frowned, weighing the captain’s words, as Rhovann leaned forward to answer for him. “A bold plan, Captain,” the elf said to Edelmark, “but I can’t see a way to do what you suggest without making an enemy of High Lord Vasil and Thentia. Perhaps a show of strength would convince the high lord to stop coddling our enemies-but it might instead drive him to throw in with the Hulmasters entirely. For now Thentia is staying out of our quarrel, and that favors us far more than a Thentian intervention. Each day the Hulmasters remain in Thentia, their position grows weaker and ours grows stronger. We should be in no hurry to change that.”
Marstel nodded. “Well said, Rhovann,” he rumbled. “But, Edelmark, you are right to bring the threat of the Hulmaster army to our attention. We must be ready to strike and strike hard the moment they sally out from behind Thentia’s skirts! I want you to make all necessary preparations to meet an attack from Thentia, no matter how improbable it may seem. And see if our agents can’t spread a little gold around in Thentia’s taverns to find out what the Hulmaster’s soldiers think they’re up to, as long as we’re waiting.”
Edelmark bowed. “As you wish, my lord harmach. I will review our defenses immediately, and redouble our efforts to hire more sellswords abroad.” He smiled cruelly. “After all, we may have an unexpected windfall in the form of confiscations from those who are disloyal to the throne. I see no reason why they shouldn’t contribute to the common defense.”
Rhovann looked over to the simulacrum, and decided that it would not be wise to test it too aggressively in its debut. “My lord harmach, we should be mindful of your need for rest,” he said. “You are still recovering, after all.”
The false Marstel nodded. “Of course, of course,” he said. “I confess that I am tiring already. I trust the council to work out all the necessary details of the decisions we’ve made today.” He pushed himself to his feet, and the councilors around the table quickly stood as well, bowing as the old lord made his way to the stairs.
“The Harmach’s Council is adjourned,” Rhovann said. “Captain Edelmark, I’ll speak with you soon.” Then he hurried over to join his simulacrum and made a show of helping the harmach climb the stairs back toward the private quarters of the castle. Behind them, chairs scraped and voices murmured as the councilors and their various clerks and seconds began to leave or huddled together, discussing the harmach’s decrees.
All in all, a very satisfactory debut, the mage reflected. The simulacrum had performed flawlessly with only the most minimal preparation and prompting. The real advantage of the creature was that it could incorporate his direction into its own reason and judgment, masquerading as Marstel while working toward the goals he specified without the constant enchantments and contest of will he’d had to endure in keeping the original Marstel under control.
“You are a much more tractable Marstel,” he remarked as they came to the upper court. “Go about your business; I’ll be in my quarters if you have need of me.”
The false Marstel nodded once and set out for the library, which served as the harmach’s office. Rhovann watched it leave, and glanced up across the castle’s upper courtyard to the Harmach’s Tower. Given the unqualified success of his simulacrum, a feeble old madman locked up in his chambers there had just become nothing more than a tedious liability. As long as Maroth Marstel remained alive, there was always a slight chance that someone might somehow stumble across the inconvenient fact that there were now
He allowed himself a small smile; after all, he’d been looking forward to this moment for months. “And now for a little bit of tidying up,” he said to himself.
TEN
A winter fog hung heavily over Hulburg as Geran dressed himself for the journey to Thentia. A Sokol caravan was setting out along the Coastal Way in half an hour, and he intended to slip out of the town by playing the part of one of the caravan guards. Nimessa had provided him with a surcoat in Sokol’s colors of blue and black, and the cold weather gave him the perfect excuse to cover most of his face with a scarf and hood. She’d quietly arranged with her arms-captain for him to join the caravan’s mounted escort; the fellow didn’t know who he was smuggling out of Hulburg, and Geran intended to keep it that way as long as possible. He checked his appearance one last time in the standing mirror in Nimessa’s room, and decided that it was good enough for all but the closest inspection. Of course, that depended on whether they met any of Rhovann’s constructs on the way out of town, and whether the helmed guardians had some means of seeing through common disguises or not.
In that case, I’ll break ranks and make a gallop for it, he told himself. He adjusted his sword belt one last time, slung a pair of saddlebags with a typical sellsword’s traveling kit stuffed inside over his shoulder, and trotted downstairs. Nimessa waited for him in the foyer, wearing a dress of green velvet with high boots-always a good idea in Hulburg’s streets at this time of year-and a heavy fur mantle against the weather.
“It seems you’re ready,” she said. She glanced out the window toward the compound’s courtyard, where the mule teams were being hitched to their wagons, and looked back to him. “Are you certain you want to leave today? You can stay longer if you feel you need to.”
He sensed the unspoken invitation in her offer, and hesitated. He liked Nimessa very much, and it was certainly true that the last two days of hiding in her home had been very pleasant indeed … but strangely enough the time he’d spent with her had finally dispelled the mystery and confusion he’d wrestled with in his heart for months now. Nimessa Sokol wasn’t the one he loved, no matter how desirable he found her, and he thought that her heart wasn’t entirely given to him either. To stay longer and draw out their temporary entanglement would only make that more clear without changing the essential nature of his heart, or hers. Framing his answer in the simplest and most comfortable terms he could find, he said, “I’d better go while I can. You might not have another caravan setting out for a couple of tendays or more. And I don’t want to endanger you any more than I already have. You’ve risked too much on my behalf already.”
“I understand,” she said, and her wry smile showed him that she did understand. She leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek, and drew a deep breath. “As for the question of danger, I’ll be the judge of my own risks. I’ll send word to our representatives in Thentia to extend you any help they can if you need to slip back into Hulburg again.”
“I appreciate the offer,” he said, “but the next time I return to Hulburg will be the last. There will be no more retreats. One way or the other, I’ll settle with Rhovann and Marstel and put things right. I have to.”
Nimessa nodded, and drew back. “We’ll help as we can, then. A good journey to you, Geran.”
He opened the door and stepped outside. The mists were cold and damp, the sort of weather that would
