Children of Chaos

all. He was no strategist, but even Stralg, for all his brilliance and ruthlessness, had never matched Therek at suicidal close combat. He had always been unstable, of course—how else could he have been?—and now age and deformity were bringing insanity oozing closer to the surface.

'They slew three of mine, too, but Orlad wasn't there.' The Celebre boy had been impressive. She would send him home instead of his sister if he knew any Florengian, but a doge who couldn't speak the language would be useless. Besides, the drastic Shaping needed to make him biddable would turn his wits to mush. 'I haven't seen Cutrath for a couple of years. Has he improved any?'

'Erch! Poisonous little mama's brat! He's the sort who turns up dead of a broken neck after a party—if the Florengians don't get him in his first battle, his buddies will.'

In Saltaja's opinion, Cutrath's problem had been his father, not his mother. 'What d'you think of the Celebre girl?'

'Like to suck on her melons. What am I supposed to think of her?'

'She's a Chosen.'

The satrap brayed like an onager. 'What!? You're joking!'

'I'm not quite certain. If she is, she's good.' Extraordinarily good for her age. Perag's death, those blatant desertions—bad things happening, but not so many that they might not be mere chance. The hussy had been too clever to try anything against Saltaja directly.

'Can't you tell?' Therek's tone implied, If you can't who can?

'Not for certain. We can test her tomorrow.'

'How?' He eyed her suspiciously.

'Have you any real brute Werists, the type who have no scruples at all and look it?'

He chuckled. 'Several dozen.'

'We'll send the ugliest into her cell with orders to rape her. If he can, then she's clear.' If he couldn't, then Saltaja would sit down with Fabia and explain the facts of life—and death—including how to Shape Cutrath into something useful. Having another Chosen in the Family again would be a big help.

'That's your nephew's betrothed you're discussing.'

'He needn't know.' Saltaja's wandering had brought her to the window beside the bell rope.

'Anyway, it's four!' Therek said. 'Not three, four.' He stalked farther away from her.

'Four what?'

'Sons. You've been missing your mail. Deeply sorry to tell you that Huntleader Kwirarl has died.' His toothless sneer could not have looked less sympathetic.

Kwirarl Eideson, her youngest! For a moment she was speechless, dazzled by memories of his smile, his laugh, and racked by a sense of betrayal. Mother of Death, You test Your servant hard! After all the oceans of blood she had spilled to honor the Old One, it seemed unfair that she should lose so many of her own children so young. It was not for me, Mother, it was for the Family! A dynasty needs heirs, and You have taken too many!

She drummed her fists on the window ledge. Oh, Kwirarl, Kwirarl! None of the sons she had given Eide had made warriors to compare with the sons of Hrag, partly because Eide was not Hrag and partly because she'd had to Shape them without Hrag's help. Kwirarl had turned out the best of her second brood, probably because Eide was not his father. Gone?

'Died how?'

'It was back in the spring sometime. Stralg just said he was ambushed while on patrol. If the rebels took him alive, it would have been long and nasty.'

She shuddered. Bad, bad news, ever since she left Skjar! First Horold, then Therek. Now Kwirarl. On the way home she would have to waste time in Kosord repairing Horold, and Therek had deteriorated enormously since she had last seen him. She wondered how much useful life he had left in him, really. Perhaps she could use him as an exhibit while teaching Fabia the finer points of Shaping. In a moment she would look and see how bad the problem was.

'I need a couple of bodyguards.'

'Pretty ones, of course.' He sneered. 'You still hanker after the pretty ones?'

'I want two who came here with me, Ern Jungrson and Brarag Braragson. Send for them.' It was true that they were strikingly good-looking kids, but these days she chose pretty ones only out of habit and because it amused her to let people think she had a weakness. She had not bothered with sex for years, although she was probably capable of bearing children, even yet. 'And a seer. I want to ask about these desertions.'

Therek wasn't mad enough to shut himself off completely in this aerie; he kept heralds on duty in the room below: 'Pull on that rope,' he growled.

'You pull it.' She turned to stare out the window.

Eyeing her warily, he came just close enough to reach it, but that was close enough to put him within range of her Dominance. As he was about to back away again, she took control, keeping it gentle so he did not feel her touch. He stayed where he was.

A boy came scampering up the stairs, doubling over in a bow almost before he stopped moving. 'My lord?'

Therek warbled, 'I want Warrior, er...'

'Flankleader Ern Jungrson,' Saltaja said, 'and Warrior Brarag Braragson.'

'I want them now!' Therek shrilled. 'And the seer. If there's any delay, I'll have you all whipped again.'

The boy vanished, yelling for assistance.