The Destiny of the Sword (45 page)

Nnanji was managing to combine blue lips and a very black expression. He had finally been convinced that Wallie was serious in wanting a treaty. His disgust was bottomless. Just as die swordsmen arrived, so did Thana, bringing hi one of Sapphire’s dingies. She stared in astonishment at Nnanji’s obvious anger and ephemeral kiss. She regarded the baggage with curiosity—bundles and two stools—then offered to take die visitors out. Wallie agreed, to save calling in a patrol boat.

Thana’s questions began as soon as die dinghy was underway. She received no answers. Nnanji was in a speechless sulk, while she and Wallie had been on poor terms since the Olonimpi incident. Apparently Katanji had won die cigar.

The sun was bright enough, but could force no warmth through a white overcast. High above, creating this haze, three long plumes of cloud streamed toward die city from RegiVul. The Fire God was exceedingly enraged. Perhaps he disapproved of Boariyi’s victory, or else he did not want a treaty, either. The River was choppy in die gusty wind, bouncing the boat roughly. The air bore a faint stink of sulfur.

Wallie was very conscious of Nnanji’s anger and was miserably trying not to think about die Ikondorina prophecy: it is your kingdom that I covet. If die sorcerers would accept a treaty and Wallie tried to force it on the swordsmen, then Nnanji might very well be driven to that idea. The other Sevenths had no legal vote, but in practice their views must be considered. They might even encourage him to mutiny.

Then what? Nnanji’s swordsmanship was certainly approaching seventh rank now, and die gods might not allow a fair match. The gods? The gods would not need to intervene! With foils Wallie was still die better man, but if he and Nnanji pulled swords, die result would be a forgone massacre. He had been

reluctant to injure even Boariyi, whom he had disliked. He could never exert himself against Nnanji. Where honor was concerned, Nnanji would have no such milksop scruples.

A long tack brought them alongside Sapphire and Wallie scrambled up the rope ladder to the deck. It seemed larger than usual because it was almost deserted. Anchored by the bow, the ship faced toward far,off RegiVul. The old sorcerer in his blue gown was huddled in Brota’s trading chair in the lee of the fo’c’sle. The golden city lay aft. Faint shouts from mat direction showed that the children were romping in the deckhouse, out of the wind. Jja was just emerging, swathed in sweater and pants of thick black wool. Tomiyano and Holiyi, on hands and knees amidships, were holystoning the deck, and still defiantly wearing only skimpy breechclouts, to demonstrate macho indifference to cold.

Wallie flashed Jja a brief smile and then turned to catch the stools and bundles as Nnanji tossed mem up from the dingy. Jja was a problem. It was two days since he had last been out to Sapphire, so his physical reaction to her would be overwhelming —,Shonsu’s glands would roar—but this visit was too important to waste time on mere bodily processes. He must try to find some free time in the near future to deal with such personal trivia.

The last bundle delivered, he turned and found her standing beside him. For an instant her deep, dark eyes searched his face, then she inclined her head and waited in silence.

“We only came to talk with Lord Rotanxi, love,” he said. “You go back inside, out of the wind.”

But Tomiyano was there, also, arms akimbo, blocking Wallie’s path. So we were back to formalities, were we? He began the salute to a superior—and the captain cut him off.

“Never mind that bilge, Shonsu! I want to talk business.”

“Be quick about it!”

“I’m told the tryst is short of cash.”

“What is that to do with you, sailor?”

“I thought a thousand golds might interest you?”

Startled, Wallie paused to think, moving aside as Nnanji and Thana came on board. Tomiyano flashed them a smile and went back to scowling at Wallie. Nnanji was the popular swordsman on Sapphire now. He was one of the family. He slept on board

every night, no matter how late the banquets and balls ended; Nnanji seemed able to dispense with sleep for weeks at a time when he wanted to. But what was the sailor after? Wallie did not doubt that the money was available. He was sure that Brota had far more than that hidden away aboard somewhere, the family’s savings. Then he noticed that Brota herself had emerged from the fo’c’sle door and was standing beside it, red robe rippling, watching the exchange with a worried stare. Expecting trouble?

“A thousand golds for what, Captain?”

Tomiyano indicated Jja with a jerk of his head. “Her.”

Jja gasped.

“Been entertaining the crew, have you?” Wallie roared.

She shook her head wildly. “No, master! I know nothing of this!”

Tomiyano had his hand very close to his dagger. “You should know better than that, Shonsu!”

“Then what the hell do you mean?”

“I mean that she’s a desirable property and she isn’t getting the use she deserves. She’s pining. I’ve heard her weeping in her cabin. If you don’t want her, then I’ll take her. A thousand? It’s a fair offer.”

It was an absurd offer. No slave, no matter how attractive, would ever fetch more than twenty. It was also an offer that made murder feel like a very good idea. Wallie’s hand trembled with me conflicting signals it was being sent.

“You stay away from my slave, sailor, or by the gods, I’ll fillet you!”

‘Twelve hundred?”

Nnanji grabbed Wallie’s arm just in time. “Easy, brother!”

Wallie jerked free, sending Nnanji staggering backward. “No!” He glared at the horror,struck Jja. “You’re coming ashore with me when I go! Get your things ready!”

She nodded fearfully. “Vixini, master?”

Having Jja underfoot would be bad enough. He certainly did not want a slave baby with a blacksmith fathermark running after him, calling him Daddy in front of the swordsmen. “He stays here!”

Jja paled even more. He had promised her once...

“And stay out of my business, sailor!”

Wallie nodded to Nnanji, grabbed up one of the bundles, and headed forward. Thana had gone to join Brota. The two of them retreated into the fo’c’sle.

Twelve hundred golds! Wallie struggled to drag his mind back to business. The insolence! But Rotanxi was more important at the moment. What game was the sailor playing? He must have known that Wallie would not accept. Had Rotanxi overheard? A supreme trader like Tomiyano would never open negotiations that way...

Nnanji clattered the two stools down in front of the sorcerer. Nnanji was back to scowling. The sorcerer raised his shaggy white eyebrows. Wallie made formal salute, and the old man pushed himself to his feet to respond. Nnanji glowered at Wallie, saluted peremptorily, and barely waited for Rotanxi’s response before sitting down.

‘The wind is chill, my lord,” Wallie said. “Would you prefer to go below?”

“This is fine.”

Wallie sat. The old man was better dressed, and that put him about ten points ahead already. On the deck near his feet lay a sheet of vellum, weighted down by a marlinespike. His quill and ink bottle lay beside them. He had asked for those—almost humbly—many days before. Wallie had granted mem, trusting him not to send messages. Probably he was recording all the curious knowledge he had extracted from Lord Shonsu.

“We came to give you a progress report on the tryst, my lord.”

“You came to gloat?” Any slight relaxation that had crept into their relationship over the past weeks had vanished now. The sorcerer could smell business, and business at the moment was war. His always,craggy face was stony.

The deck was empty except for the three of them and Tomiyano, who had gone back to his scraping. The others had all gone below. A haze of volcanic dust was sweeping by in the wind.

Ignoring Rotanxi’s question, Wallie began to summarize what had been reported at the meeting—the catapults, the archers, the guerrillas, the cavalry. He described Boariyi’s success—six dead, eight captured. Nnanji ground his teeth in silence. Finally

Wallie assured the sorcerer that he could finance his attack. The tryst was almost ready for battle.

“So you want me to go back and tell my friends to give up?” Rotanxi was needle,sharp. Swordsmen won promotion by prowess with their blades. Sorcerers must do so by intelligence test.

“I wanted to show you that we can win.”

“Against our thunder weapons? It will be bloody.”

“We have much more blood available than you do, my lord.”

The sorcerer’s wrinkles writhed, displaying skepticism. “We shall see.”

“I should rather not,” Wallie said. “We shall wreck the cities and kill innocent bystanders.”

“Since when have swordsmen worried about civilians?”

Wallie vowed a silent oath that he was not going to lose his temper. ‘This tryst was called to restore the honor of the swordsmen’s craft, my lord. Killing civilians is not honorable and never has been. To be quite honest, I am not sure that killing sorcerers is, either. Do you know the origin of the quarrel between our two crafts?”

“No. It goes back even before our records.”

“Then let us two stop it.”

That won a reaction. The sorcerer stared at him unbelievingly.

“I came to suggest a treaty,” Wallie said. “Before the serious killing starts.”

“Bah! Why should we? You cannot win, Shonsu! One tower or even two, perhaps, but then we shall go away! Had you not thought of that? Admit it—the tryst must be disbanded. You cannot hold your superiority in numbers. In five years we shall be back.” He smiled a cruel, thin,lipped smile. “Of course you are welcome to attack Vul again. I hope you try! You may win in the short run, but we win in the end. Admit it, swordsman!”

“I admit nothing!” Wallie lifted the bundle and tipped out twelve pistols—Rotanxi’s own, Chinarama’s, and the ten that Boariyi had brought. Then there was a lull in the conversation, while Sapphire wrestled with her cable and a straggle of geese flew by, far overhead. The sorcerer was frowning at this new threat.

“We win in the short run,” Wallie said. “You may win in the middle run—perhaps. In the end we both lose.”

“The swordsmen now know that your thunderbolts are not spells, that they are weapons. They will seek to obtain such weapons so that they may fight you on equal terms. And swordsmen are much better fighters! If I do not give them the secret, they will gain it by other means. In five years, my lord, you will be facing swordsmen armed with the same weapons you have now. I could make better, if I chose.”

Another pause. Then Wallie added: “Nor will it stop there. Such weapons cannot be kept secret. Civilians will start getting them also. Then any old grandmother is a match for the toughest swordsman. Brigands will keep sorcerers captive in their cellars to manufacture weapons. It will mean ruin for both our crafts, my lord.”

This was his argument,for,sorcerers. He had not presented it to the swordsmen and he wondered what Nnanji was making of it, but he kept his eyes on Rotanxi.

“I have no power to negotiate anything,” the sorcerer said at last, and Wallie knew that he was making progress.

“You could take a message. And I cannot believe that the wizard of Sen is without influence.”

The bitter old man studied him carefully. “What exactly are you proposing, ShonsuT

“That we end the needless hostility between swordsman and sorcerer. It was always foolish and now it will lead to a growing, spreading struggle...” It was hard to find words to describe an arms race. Eventually he thought the sorcerer understood. “So you must agree to destroy your weapons and make no more. In return we treat your craft as we do all others, and you would be under the protection of the swordsmen.”

Rotanxi laughed scornfully. ‘The protection of that gang of killers, thieves, and rapists you have in Casr? I had sooner be guarded by rabid wolves!”

Nnanji cursed and half rose from his stool, reaching for his sword. Then he sank back, muttering.

But Wallie managed to control his own temper. “I do not defend what happened when the swordsmen began arriving, my lord. It was shameful. But it was also unusual. There has been no tryst in many centuries to warn us—hundreds of free swords, all

expecting to be treated like kings and heroes, all of mem with nothing to do! As soon as the tryst was sworn, Lord Boariyi imposed discipline. The elders say that Casr has never been more peaceful than it is now. Maidens walk the streets at midnight unmolested. Thieves and cutpurses have vanished. I offer you mis for your seven cities, and all others!”

Rotanxi scoffed. “You think you have such power?”

“I have unlimited power. The swordsmen are sworn to obey me to the death and without question.” All except that angry young man beside me. “If I say that sorcerers are friends, then they will be treated like friends. I can make the swordsmen swear an oath to that effect.*

The sorcerer stared coldly at him, but he was very intent. “’And all others,’ you said?”

Wallie smiled. “I am being optimistic. The fourteen cities of the loop, certainly. The rest of the World will obviously be a little harder, and take time. But I could impose a new sutra on the men we have here. I could make mem swear to work for its adoption everywhere. The Goddess brought them, and She will return them to their homes. They can tell the others. We do not have all die World’s swordsmen here, my lord, only a tiny fraction of mem. But in time, with goodwill on both sides...”