the door, who had theirs crossed. At the sight of the two men coming down the hall, they pulled back their weapons to permit entry.
Telamon led Trent into a narrow vestibule and thence into the apartment beyond. It was a smaller version of the megaron, the great hall downstairs, but here the fire pit was blazing, and off to one side were two men in fine robes lounging on low recliners, eating an elaborate meal. The food was being served on gold dishes by a trio of female servants with dark braided hair, dressed in long layered gowns. All three were pretty. From decorated amphorae they poured thick syrupy wine into gold cups.
The older of the two men was gray-bearded and corpulent, with deep-set dark eyes and a prominent nose. The younger man resembled him, but he was thinner, and his eyes were smaller and somehow less intelligent, though he had an intense look about him.
Telamon stopped some distance away. Trent waited behind him. The men talked and ate. Presently the graybearded man looked up and nodded to Telamon. Telamon approached.
'Majesty, may I present Trent, brother of Inkarnases.' Trent stepped forward and bowed deeply.
The gray-bearded one-presumably Anthaemion, King of Mykos-frowned. 'Trent,' he said as he picked his teeth with a fingernail. 'Trent. Odd name.'
'May it please His Majesty.'
'It pleases me not that your brother has chosen to absent himself from my court during this crisis.'
Uh-oh, Trent thought. Had Inky underestimated or dissembled?
'Uh, pressing business, Your Majesty. He said-
'I know what he said. He is a most persuasive man. He said you would be the better military adviser. Is he right?'
'I will serve His Majesty to the utmost limit of my talents.'
'If you're half as clever as your brother, you'll do fine. You've been informed of the details of our situation?'
'Yes, sire.'
'Forces available, enemy tactics, that sort of thing?'
'As much as Inkarnases knows, I know.'
'What he knows is considerable,' the king said. 'How he knows so much is a mystery to me, but I don't presume to understand the ways of sorcerers. We did not even possess an accurate map of the Dardanian coast until he divined one. I presume you are a magician also?'
'I am, sire.'
'How good a one? Can you win this war for me by simply casting a spell?'
'That would be a difficult way of going about it, sire. No one enchantment could take into account all the myriad contingencies.'
'That's what your brother said. I believe him. But you can cast spells to provide favorable conditions, facilitate the happy unfolding of events, forfend hexes and other dangers-all that?'
'All that can be done, sire.'
The king nodded. 'Good. We'll need every supernatural advantage. In addition to the favor of the gods.'
The king's brother spoke: 'Surely the gods favor those who are wronged, as I have been.'
'No doubt,' the king told him.
The smell of herbs and spices came to Trent's nostrils: fennel, coriander, and others he couldn't identify. He hoped the food here wasn't too spicy. The stuff looked good, anyway. Both men continued eating as they talked.
The king went on. 'But it's not that simple, I'm afraid. There are gods, and there are gods. They divide and take opposite sides. Some no doubt favor our enemy. I myself have had disturbing dreams of late.'
Menoetius raised his eyebrows. 'Oh? What dreams are these?'
Anthaemion shook his head. 'I cannot recount them clearly enough to make sense. I half-remember them. Perhaps, as time goes on, their import will be made clearer. But they are disturbing nonetheless.'
'This does not bode well.'
Anthaemion's brow lowered. 'No. Some days I sit and brood, and it occurs to me that what we aim to do will not go well, that no good can come of it.'
'But our honor must be restored.'
The king half-smiled. 'Our honor, brother?'
'Pelion's outrage was an affront to all Arkadians!' Anthaemion popped a honeyed fig into his mouth, chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed before answering. 'Of course, my brother. Of course. But there are other reasons why we must deal with the Dardanians. The price of grain rises every year, and we must import more every year. We need new fields to till, and there are none to have in this barren wilderness. The Dardanian coast has vast fertile plains lying fallow, waiting for the bite of the plow, but the Dardanians burn our colonies and kill our colonists, or take them prisoner. Niggardly of them, is it not? No, favorite brother, there are other good reasons for our attempting to rescue Alena from the clutches of the rapist Pelion.'
'Foul rapist and pirate. Whom I will first castrate, then rip his belly open for dogs to devour the guts, while I watch and enjoy. That is but a taste of what I will do to Pelion when I take Troas.'
The king chuckled. 'You will reduce Troas alone, then?'
Menoetius looked into his gold wine cup. 'Not alone, no. But I will challenge Pelion to come out and face me. Alone.'
'Single combat settles nothing,' Anthaemion said.
'I demand the right.'
Anthaemion sighed. 'As I suppose you must. Brave of you, my brother. Very brave.'
The king looked up at Trent again. 'As you can see, there are many complications to this affair. I have not begun to mention them. Half our forces are at the other half's throat. Ancient enmities, old vendettas. It is the way of our people. Nevertheless, we are united in one single purpose, to destroy the Dardanians once and for all. And that we will, the gods willing. I would meet with you again, Trent. Tomorrow morning. My brother goes back to Piraeon then. Tomorrow you will tell me your ideas of how best to attack the Dardanian coast and where to deploy our armies to greatest advantage.'
Trent bowed. 'Sire, I will be happy to do so.'
Right. Trent thought, all my brilliant ideas, of which I've come up with zero to date.
'Meanwhile, dine and sleep. Take what slave girls you want to your bed. They seem to breed of late. More mouths to feed. Gods know how I got so many of them. You may go.'
Telamon and Trent bowed, then backed away.
'I'll show you to your quarters,' Telamon told him in the vestibule. 'Very comfortable, with a view of the plains.'
Trent thought, Inky, I'm going to kill you one of these days. Just a matter of time.
QUEEN'S DINING HALL
'I say we split up into pairs and fan out,' Dalton said as he stirred his coffee.
'Not a bad idea,' Gene said. 'We only have to check 144,000 holes to see which one they might be coming through.'
'True, it's a huge job.'
'Though I suppose it's got to be done.'
'Right.'
'Because, even as we speak…'
Three homunculi were busy sweeping up the dining room. As Gene and his friends watched, two more came in to help.
'But he can't check every aspect,' Thaxton said.
'Let's hope we get lucky,' Dalton said.
'And what exactly is our plan when we do find the portal the little beggars are coming through?'
