It seemed to Olio that when Areava broke the news to her council that Tomar had declared for Lynan it was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Mouths gaped open but no one could say a word.
Olio, who was the first to recover from the shock, asked: 'What about the Great Army?'
'Still encamped in south Chandra,' Areava said. 'Dejanus is on his way there right now.'
'So there is still a buffer between Lynan and Kendra?' asked an anxious Shant Tenor.
'Yes. There is a buffer in time as well. It will take Lynan several days for his army to reach Sparro from Daavis, and several days after that for them to reach the south.'
'But Tomar could attack first,' one of the nobles said. 'He need not wait for Lynan.'
'Tomar would not dare attack the Great Army by himself,' Orkid said derisively. '
He
is not stupid.'
There was a shocked gasp from the members of the Twenty Houses; even Areava seemed surprised at the chancellor's uncharacteristic outburst.
'By the way, Duke Amptra,' Orkid continued, nonchalantly, addressing another of the nobles, 'your son is safe and waiting for you at home.'
'Galen? He is returned?'
'What is this, Orkid?' Areava demanded.
'Galen and the survivors of the knights were given safe passage back to Kendra from Chandra. They arrived just before the meeting. They have brought Queen Charion with them.'
'Why were they not invited here immediately?'
'I thought it best they have a chance to rest. They were exhausted, and had nothing except the clothes they arrived in.'
'Did they bring anything else with them?' Areava asked. 'A letter or proclamation from Tomar?'
'A letter,' Orkid said carefully. 'It contained nothing but slander and lies.' His eyes flickered. 'Against you, my queen. I burned it in anger.'
'Orkid?'
'I am sorry, your Majesty. I know it was wrong—'
'Very wrong,' she said. There was no anger in her voice, but that seemed to make the judgement worse for
Orkid. 'The letter would have ensured history noted the justness of our cause.'
He bowed his head. 'I realise that now, your Majesty, and apologise to you and the council for my lack of foresight.'
Areava carefully regarded the chancellor. 'We have other things to discuss now.'
'City defences, for example,' the marshal said from the opposite end of the table. 'Just in case the Great Army fails to stop Prince Lynan.'
Olio saw a look of panic cross the faces of many members of the council.
'We can begin by diverting some of the Great Army's forces still on their way to Chandra to garrison duty here,' the marshal continued.
'No,' Areava said quickly. 'The Great Army is still Kendra's best defence, and it makes no sense to weaken it. We have the Royal Guards, still the best soldiers in all of Theare. Kendra will be safe.' She caught each of the city representatives in her gaze. 'And I count on all of you to get out that message.'
There were subdued murmurs of agreement around the table, and a discussion started on how best to prepare Kendra for a possible siege. Olio contributed by suggesting he cooperate with Edaytor Fanhow and the primate to establish hospices and surgeries, an idea warmly received, but then found himself with little to add as the discussion moved to wall-building and troop deployment. He noticed that Orkid himself was contributing little; he seemed distracted and nervous, which was entirely out of character. The other surprise was the primate. It was not a matter of Powl being distracted—he gave the impression his mind was completely absent, and poor Father Rown sitting next to him was fidgety and seemed out of his depth. Could Fowl have been so shocked by the news of Tomar's betrayal? Olio had thought Powl a man with deeper reserves than that; he saw Areava occasionally throw furtive glances towards the two clerics, obviously expecting the primate to speak up on several of the issues raised by others.
'Primate?' Areava eventually urged. 'Have you anything to add to this discussion?'
Powl's eyes slowly focused on the queen. 'No, your Majesty. At this point I have nothing to say.' Then his eyes seemed to glaze over again.
'Ah, ah,' Rown said, swallowing heavily, 'I believe his Grace fully supports Prince Olio's suggestion of establishing hospices and other places to deal with any wounded the city might… umm… incur during the protraction of a… ah… siege.'
Areava nodded slowly. 'I see,' she said, and continued with the meeting.
Areava held two audiences in her private chambers that evening. The first was with Orkid.
'I find it hard to believe you destroyed the letter from Tomar,' she told him.
Orkid could not meet her gaze. 'It was unforgivable, I know,' he said, his head bobbing like some peasant supplicant from the country. 'My only defence is that his | intemperate language fired my devotion to you.'
'So you fired the letter,' she added dryly.
'Your Majesty.'
'It is unlike Tomar to be intemperate about anything. He always struck me as a level-headed, reasonable person.'
'What level-headed and reasonable person could betray his monarch?'
'I was hoping the letter would tell me.'
'It was a rant, nothing more. Spiteful. Hateful.'
'Nevertheless, it was
my
letter.'
'I regret there is little I can do about it.'
'Of course you can. We still have some of Tomar's pigeons?'
Orkid swallowed. He knew where this was going.
'Orkid?'
'I am not sure. I will have to check with the pigeon keeper.'
Areava stared at the chancellor. 'How could he not have at least one?'
Orkid shrugged. 'I cannot speak for him, your Majesty—'
'I am not asking you to speak for him. At any rate, if there is a pigeon, we send a message to Tomar asking him to send us another copy of his letter.'
'And if there is no pigeon?'
'We send a messenger under a sign of parley.'
Orkid was astounded. 'All this for a letter from a traitor?'
'All this so I can read what he said.'
'I have already told you what he said.'
Areava's voice rose. 'I desire to read it for myself!'
Orkid realised he had gone too far with his argument. He bowed and retreated a step.
'And when I get the letter I expect the seal to be unbroken,' she added.
Orkid felt sweat start to bead his forehead. She was suspicious of his action in burning Tomar's letter, that much was certain, but was that all she was suspicious about?
He bowed again.
There was a knock on the door, and a guard entered. 'Your Majesty, it is Queen Charion and Galen Amptra to see you, as you requested.'
'Let them in, thank you. The chancellor was just leaving.'
Orkid left, closing the door behind her two new guests.
Areava stood to greet Charion formally. 'We are honoured to receive our sister from Hume.'
Charion curtsied. It was not easily done, since Areava was the only person in the world she was obliged to curtsy to and she was out of practice, but there was no hesitation in the action. 'Your Majesty,' she said, and bowed her head as well.
Galen bowed even lower. 'We are sorry to have been the bearer of such bad tidings, your Majesty.'
'On that score do not fret yourself,' Areava told them. 'We had heard earlier in the morning. A private message had come by carrier pigeon.'
'Ah, then the letter revealed nothing new.'
'Alas, the letter never reached me. My chancellor, in his haste to defend my honour, destroyed it.'
'Your honour?' Charion was puzzled.
'He tells me King Tomar's letter was scandalous and insulting to my person.'
Charion and Galen exchanged surprised glances.
'Did you not find it so?' she asked them.
'We had not read it, your Majesty. It was still sealed when we handed it over to Orkid.'
'I did not know.' She waved them both into seats. 'I have heard of the valiant actions your knights have taken part in, Galen. You will be pleased to know that in his last communication to me, Sendarus praised you and your companions most highly.'
'Thank you. Sendarus had become a friend before he died, and had earned the respect of all who served under him.'
'Including me,' Charion said, 'although we did not exactly get on at first.'
Areava almost smiled then, but thought better of it. She was touched more deeply than they could know by their memories of her husband, but this was not the time for her to dwell in the past. 'Thank you. Now tell me everything you can about Lynan and his army. Assume I know nothing.'
From then until deep into the night, the three of them discussed only the war. Areava was disturbed, but not surprised, by stories of Lynan's changed nature. She was also disturbed by her guests' account of new Chett tactics and formations, such as the lancers and the Red Hands. It was soon apparent that the only real setback Lynan had suffered was the death of Kumul Alarn.
'Are you suggesting my brother cannot be beaten?' Areava asked with an undercurrent of anger.
'No, your Majesty,' Charion said firmly. 'His army, at least, can be beaten. We proved that in the first battle. As for defeating Lynan himself, well…' she nodded to the Key of the Sceptre hanging from Areava's neck '… you may be the only one who can deal with him.'
'You think it will come to that? You think his army will reach Kendra?'
'I do not say to that,' Charion said. 'But one way or another, I believe
he
will reach Kendra.'
Areava slapped the arms of her chair. 'I should have taken command of the Great Army!'
'To what purpose? Are you a better general than this Dejanus I have been told has command?'
'We are both untried,' she said.
'But he has seen combat.'
'Yes,' she admitted grudgingly.
'Then forgive me, your Majesty, for I do not doubt your courage, but Dejanus may prove to be the wiser choice after all. Defeating Lynan's army and defeating Lynan are two separate issues.'
Areava slumped in her chair. The day had not been one of any cheer and a great deal of gloom. She was exhausted, and now was showing it. 'Do you know,' she said, subdued, 'that I have not Jeff the palace since my coronation?'
Charion and Galen exchanged glances, but it was not a question that invited response.
'Thank you both for coming tonight,' Areava said, standing up. 'We will talk again before long.'
Charion and Galen stood up. 'Your Majesty, one request,' Galen asked.
'If I can grant it.'
'My knights and I can re-equip ourselves with armour before another day has gone, and then it is only two days hard ride to where the Great Army gathers. If you would—'
'I read your mind, Galen Amptra, but no. Your number now is so small that no matter how valiant you prove yourselves to be, you will not decide the day of battle one way or the other; yet if Lynan and his army should reach Kendra, your contribution here could be decisive.'
Galen could not hide his disappointment, but he nodded. 'As you wish.'
As they were leaving, Areava said: 'Galen, I find it hard to reconcile myself with the Twenty Houses, for long they were enemies of my mother and—I believed—myself, but obviously there are some in that group whom I would have as friends.'
'You may have more friends in the Twenty Houses than you know, your Majesty,' Galen replied.
It was dark and cold on the sea. The
Gentle Tide
was not big enough for Dejanus's liking, heaving low to the water and too easily rolled by any wave. Its crew of ten worked the single lateen sail and sheets with practised ease but had little time for the constable as night voyages were never completely safe, no matter how well the captain might pretend to know the route.
Left largely to his own devices Dejanus sat behind the wheelhouse which protected him from the worst of the spray for the whole journey, standing up only to relieve himself over the side; the first time he went for a piss he almost slipped over the wale, resulting in him emptying his stomach as well as his bladder into the churning waves.
By the time the
Gentle Tide
was easing against the dock of a small fishing village in south Chandra the sun was still an hour from rising and he could see there was no one to greet him. As soon as the pinnace was secured he got off, leaving no thanks for the captain and her crew for the safe and quick journey. They silently cursed him and then set about unloading the rest of their cargo.
Dejanus walked into the village, heading for the building that most looked like it might be the local equivalent of an inn. The door was locked. He banged on it until some old, sleep-encrusted man opened it a crack and demanded to know who was banging away at this hour. Dejanus used his strength to shove the door wide open, sending the man sprawling on the floor. He stepped in and saw the long drinking bench that showed he had guessed right. In the wall opposite the bench a large fire still burned.
'My name is General Dejanus,' he said. 'Are any of my officers staying here?'
'One, your Mightiness,' the man grovelled. 'He arrived late last night—'
Dejanus picked the man up by the collar of his nightshirt. 'You are going to do three things. First, get me a warm wine. Second, wake the officer and tell him to report to me immediately. Third, make me breakfast. I'm
very
hungry.'
'Yes, your Mightiness!' the man said and disappeared, his feet pattering away into the darkness behind the bench.
Dejanus chose a seat near the fire, put his legs up on one of the tables and waited. Before he was warm the old man returned with a wooden cup brim full with mulled wine and cinnamon. Half a cup later a skinny, nervous ensign appeared, helmet under one arm and a sheaf of papers under the other.
'Why weren't you at the dock to greet me?' Dejanus demanded.
'Sir, you weren't due until this morning.'
Dejanus considered humiliating him, but he was tired after the voyage and there was no audience to learn the lesson. Instead, he harrumphed and pointed to the papers. 'What are those?'