The Godspeaker Trilogy (143 page)

“And you'll have ours, lady, when you say why you send for us.”

Rhian let her eyebrows rise. “The correct form of address is ‘Your Majesty’.”

The Dev'karesh were a pale race. Halash's white skin burned red at her reproof. “Of course. Your Majesty.”

Instead of bowing, as was customary, Arbenia's representative jabbed a pointed finger at Han. Though the weather was warm, still Gutten swathed himself in bearskin, the badge of his ruler's House. “It proves troublesome to me that Tzhung-tzhungchai's emperor stands here when my count languishes in Arbenia.”

The calculated disrespect, somehow more grating than Halash's brusque manner, sent a ripple of tension through her privy councillors. She raised a hand, settling them. “Ambassador Gutten, your master is always welcome in Kingseat. Every great man and woman of the world is welcome to Ethrea.”

Gutten bowed, almost insolent. “But only Emperor Han is here now. He is invited? Or he comes on a whim?”

“Emperor Han is not the topic of this meeting, sir,” she said coldly.

“Then what is?” said Voolksyn of Harbisland, third of the three great trading nations. Like so many of his race he was a giant of a man, made even more impressive by his clean-shaven head, his undisciplined reddish-gold beard, his ring-choked fingers and his spotted sealskin doublet.

Beneath her black brocade finery, Rhian felt her heart beat hard again. Every one of these ambassadors, and of course Han, was old enough to be her father. Two days ago they'd watched her kill to keep the crown upon her head. Would the memory be enough to keep them here now?

Please, God, please. Let it be enough.

She looked at Voolksyn. “Nothing less than life and death.”

Everyone but Han and Lai stirred and muttered at her words. Ignoring them, she let her gaze rest upon Ambassador Athnïj of Icthia. “Sir,” she said, “am I misinformed, or is your tenure as the Icthian ambassador come to an end?”

Athnïj, a thin, nervy man, stepped to the foot of the dais and bowed extravagantly. Large patches of sweat marred his rust-red velvet overtunic. “Your Majesty, you are not misinformed.”

She drummed her fingers on the arm of her throne. “And yet you're still here, Athnïj, long after the time Icthia's new ambassador should have reached us. What has happened to the new Icthian ambassador? Are you aware?”

Athnïj shook his head, his eyes skittish. His throat worked hard as he swallowed. “Alas.”

Gutten of Arbenia was scowling. “Are you , Queen of Ethrea?”

Rhian sat back and considered him. “If I said I was, Ambassador Gutten. If I said I knew things that would freeze the blood in your veins…would you believe me? Or would you dismiss me, as Marlan and Damwin and Kyrin dismissed me, because I am young and female?”

A hurried exchange of glances between the ambassadors, then, and a smattering of whispered comment. Gutten spoke to Voolksyn, his back half-turned to the throne. Voolksyn listened, his face betraying nothing. Leelin of Haisun, a nation cousined to Tzhung-tzhungchai, tried to catch Ambassador Lai's attention, but Han's man stared at the parquetry floor. Istahas tugged at his scalp-lock and said something swift and guttural in An-chata's ready ear. The Keldravian snorted, puffy eyes narrowed, and slid his hands into his wide sleeves as tiny Lalaska of Barbruish shook his oiled ringlets and stroked his green silk stole. Istahas and Halash exchanged soft comments too. Athnïj pressed his knuckles to his lips and said nothing.

Emperor Han, still standing apart, was almost smiling, as though he found this entire gathering some kind of prank or waste of time. His gaze touched Rhian's face once, then slid aside. She felt her fingers tighten.

She'd half-expected him to walk out of thin air again last night, to bewilder her with more cryptic utterances. When he didn't appear she was relieved…but somehow disappointed.

And does that mean I'm a fool?

“My lords!” she said, raising her voice above their mutterings.

One by one they looked at her, seemingly startled all over again that they must dance attendance upon a woman.

“Gentlemen,” she continued, “I understand your dismay. We smile and we smile, we have treaties and a charter, yet none of us here believes we're all bosom friends. There are difficulties between some of you, I'm aware of that. But Ethrea is friend to every nation in this room and has been for centuries. You must know that whatever I tell you today is the truth.”

Voolksyn settled his fists on his hips and jutted his beard at her. “Like your father you pour words from your mouth like syrup, queen. What do you know?”

His tone was insolent, his green gaze hostile. Her privy councillors bristled again, and for the second time she calmed them with a lifted hand.

“Ambassador Voolksyn, I know a new power rises in the far east,” she said softly. “A long-dead empire crawling out of its grave. It is called Mijak, and it is soaked in blood. Already many lands have fallen to its fearsome warriors. I fear Icthia is its most recent conquest. And I believe that if we do not act now, together, Ethrea will fall…and after us, all of you.”

As Voolksyn considered her words, Gutten stared at Han. “Who told you this? His witch-men?”

Han met Gutten's glare calmly. “Sun-dao, my most powerful witch-man, has seen in the wind the warriors of Mijak. He has seen the blood tide. He has seen the end of all things. Only a fool turns his face from the wind.”

“Only a fool believes the word of Tzhung-tzhungchai,” retorted Gutten. “The wind of your words would blow us on the rocks. You would wreck every nation and make the pieces Tzhung. You and this woman of Ethrea, you concoct a tale to frighten children. You and this woman plot behind closed doors and seek to swallow the world.”

“Gutten speaks the truth,” grunted Voolksyn. “No Emperor of Tzhung-tzhungchai has done a thing that will not serve him first.”

Han smiled. “Do you insult me on your master's behalf? Or does the Slainta of Harbisland keep a dog that barks without permission?”

“You call me dog?” Voolksyn bared his teeth, one fist rising. “Harbisland has no fear of the Tzhung! Harbisland spits on Tzhung-tzhungchai! Harbisland—”

“ Gentlemen !” Rhian shouted, and leapt to her feet. “You stand in my realm, beneath my roof. Try my patience further and I shall see you both recalled in disgrace. I did not invite you here so you might brawl like common sailors in a harbour tavern!”

As Voolksyn stared, shocked to silence, Gutten wrapped his stubby fingers round his ornate chain of office. “So you learned of this Mijak from the Tzhung emperor.”

She sat again, and took a moment to arrange her heavy skirts. “I knew of it before Emperor Han came,” she said at last, her voice cool. “That is how I know he tells the truth. When he came, it was to warn me that Ethrea is in danger. He has acted as my kingdom's true friend.”

“And we have not?” demanded Istahas. “Harsh words, Majesty. Friends do not say things like that to each other.”

“Friends tell the truth,” she said. “And the truth is we stand in grave peril. All of us.”

“From this Mijak?” said An-chata, almost sneering.

“Yes.” She folded her hands neatly in her lap. “As you know, my lords, every vessel's captain leaving Kingseat Harbour informs the harbourmaster when he anticipates his ship's return. My harbourmaster advises me no less than four vessels are late, according to their sailing documents. One belongs to Tzhung-tzhungchai. The others sail for Arbenia, Barbruish and Dev'karesh. All were bound for Icthia…and from Icthia they have failed to return.”

The ambassadors of the nations she'd named stared at each other, then at her.

“You weren't aware of this? How can that be? You all trade with Icthia, don't you know the whereabouts of each other's—”

“They're aware, Majesty,” said Han, mildly amused. “But to admit it could be seen as spying. The nations you mention aren't all treatied together.”

She glared at the ambassadors. “I don't care about your treaties and intrigues, gentlemen. I care only that you realise something is wrong . All these ships missing, and no new Icthian ambassador! What else can it mean but Mijak has reached the far eastern coast?”

Lalaska shrugged. “Trading is a dangerous business. There are storms. Ships are blown off course. Sometimes they sink.” He glanced up at Han. “There are pirates.”

“ Gentlemen ,” said Rhian, before another argument could erupt. “Of course the voyage between Ethrea and Icthia is dangerous. Every ocean voyage is dangerous. And in the past, yes, ships have been lost to storms. But this is not the storm season. Are you suggesting all these vessels are somehow blown off course in fair weather, or mysteriously sunk without trace or cause?”

Voolksyn grunted. “It is said the witch-men of Tzhung-tzhungchai control the wind.”

“And sank their own ship? To what end?”

“Who knows the devious heart of Tzhung-tzhungchai?” said Gutten, glowering. “It cannot be trusted, it—”

“ Stop it !” said Rhian, and banged her fist on the arm of her throne. At this rate she'd be bruised to the elbow. “We are gathered to talk of how we'll save ourselves from Mijak.” She swallowed. “And how you can help Ethrea save itself first. For you must know that if Ethrea falls to this ravenous invader, your great nations will be ruined.”

Gutten glared down his nose. “Why should we believe your words? We do not see Mijak. We never hear of Mijak. We see you with Emperor Han. You look to lie with this man of Tzhung.”

Alasdair stepped forward. “Mind your tongue, Arbenia. The council will not tolerate slurs against the queen.”

“Heh,” said Gutten, sour with contempt. “He speaks? This man behind a woman? Is this a king?”

Rhian felt her blood scorch. Felt Alasdair's rage as he stood beside her throne. I did this to him. He married me and that gives him to men like Gutten for baiting. I should've insisted he sat a throne beside me . But he'd refused, quoting herself back to him. And she'd let herself be persuaded because… admit it, admit it …in her heart she thought that was right. Her father never once diluted his authority. Never once shared it with his queen while she lived. And I'm my father's daughter .

“For shame, Ambassador Gutten. You should know better,” said Helfred, before she could speak. “As for Mijak, the danger is real. God himself has said it.”

“Your God,” said An-chata as Gutten choked on Helfred's reprimand. “You say we are subject to the God of Ethrea?”

“No,” said Rhian. “This isn't about religion, it's about death and dying. It's about saving our lives and the lives of our people.” She shook her head. “My lords, this is not a new move in an old game. This is a new game, that we'll lose for certain if we're not careful. You demand proof that Mijak exists? I have proof.” She looked over at Ven'Cedwin. “Venerable?”

Her council secretary put down his quill and went to the ballroom's doors and swung them open. A moment later Zandakar entered, escorted by Idson and six conspicuously armed soldiers. Han and the ambassadors stared as he came to a halt before the dais and punched his fist to his chest.

“Rhian hushla .”

Ignoring him, she looked instead to the foreigners on whom so much depended. “His name is Zandakar. He is a prince of Mijak.”

Consternation from all but Han and his ambassador. Gutten and Voolksyn exchanged dark looks, and Voolksyn stepped forward. “Word has reached us of the blue-haired man in your midst, Majesty. Whispers say he is dangerous with a blade.”

She nodded. “He is.”

“A prince of Mijak, you say?” Voolkysn's fingers twitched, as though he longed for his own knife. “Then he is the enemy. The enemy sleeps in comfort beneath your roof, queen?”

“He's not our enemy,” she said swiftly. “He's pledged to aid us against the warriors of Mijak.”

“So he is a traitor,” said An-chata. “He betrays his own blood. You would trust a traitor, and ask us to trust you?”

She couldn't help it. She looked at Alasdair. His eyes were on her, his expression grim. “You might call it treachery, An-chata, to see a wrong done and try to stop it,” she said coldly, and looked away from her husband. “I prefer to call it noble. Gentlemen, Zandakar was disowned by his people because he refused to kill any more men, women and children whose only crime was that they were not born Mijaki. He has sworn to help me turn back the tide of blood. He has sworn to die before letting Mijak swallow one more nation. He grieves he wasn't able to save Icthia.”

“You have no proof Icthia is swallowed,” said Gutten. “This man with blue hair is not proof. This man is a man and can say what he likes.”

Nervous Athnïj shook his head. “Majesty, I believe you. Icthia is not a silent nation. There is a reason I've heard nothing for so long. I think it must be this Mijak.”

“You fool, Athnïj,” said Gutten. “To fall prey to—”

“ Wei ,” said Zandakar, and turned his pale blue eyes to Gutten. “You stupid man, you say wei Mijak, wei Hekat, wei warriors. Rhian hushla kill three men, zho ? Zandakar kill three thousand .” He held up a finger. “One day.”

As the ambassadors stared, Rhian stood again. “Zandakar speaks the truth. Tens of thousands are slaughtered already, gentlemen. Slaughtered or enslaved, their cities reduced to rubble. Unless you can put your differences behind you, unless you can accept that here is a time where pettiness has no place, where we must all make a leap of faith and trust each other, we shall fall too and before Mijak is done the oceans themselves shall be turned red.”

“What do you say, then?” said Leelin of Haisun. “You say we go to war for Ethrea?”

“For Ethrea and for yourselves, yes. By our charter you're pledged to protect us from harm. I say the trading nations must raise an armada and sail to defeat the warships of Mijak.”

As the ambassadors shifted and muttered, she looked at Alasdair. He nodded. “Go on,” he said in an undertone. “It's too late to turn back now.”

“Have faith,” murmured Helfred. “God is with us in this.”

Heart pounding, she looked swiftly at the rest of her council. They smiled at her, even Adric. Warmed, she turned again to the ambassadors. “Gentlemen, there is more,” she said loudly, and silenced them. “I ask your leave to break our charter. Ethrea would raise an army so it can defend itself should war come.”