The Shining Ones (47 page)

Betuana, the Queen of the Atans, ruled more or less by default. King Androl, her husband, was a stupendous warrior, and that may have been a part of the problem. He was
so
stupendous that the normal concerns of the military commanders – such problems as being grossly outnumbered, for example – were quite beyond his grasp. Men who are sublimely convinced of their own invincibility seldom make good generals. Betuana, on the other hand,
was
a good general, quite possibly one of the best in the world, and the peculiar Atan society, which totally ignored any distinctions between the sexes, gave her talents the fullest opportunity to flower. Far from resenting his wife’s superiority, Androl was inordinately proud of her. Sparhawk rather suspected that Betuana might have preferred it otherwise, but she was realistic about the whole thing.

She had, moreover, a disconcerting level of trust. Sparhawk had carefully marshaled a number of explanations about both the need for the council of war and
about their mode of travel, but those explanations proved totally unnecessary. ‘All right,’ she replied calmly when he told her that Bhelliom would transport them instantly to Matherion.

‘You don’t want any details, your Majesty?’ He was more than a little surprised.

‘Why waste time explaining something I wouldn’t understand anyway, Sparhawk-Knight?’ She shrugged. ‘I’ll accept your word that the jewel can take us to Matherion. You don’t have any reason to lie to me about it. Give me a few moments to tell Androl that I’m going and to change clothes. Sarabian-Emperor finds my work-clothes a trifle unsettling.’ She glanced down at her armor.

‘He’s changed quite a bit, your Majesty.’

‘So Norkan tells me. I’m curious to find out just how much your wife has modified him. I’ll be right back.’ She strode from the room.

‘You get used to that, Sparhawk,’ Khalad said. ‘She’s very direct, and she doesn’t waste time asking questions about things she doesn’t need to know about. It’s quite refreshing, actually.’

‘Be nice,’ Sparhawk said mildly.

Ambassador Norkan was nervous, but both Kring and Engessa were quite nearly as calm as the queen.

‘God!’ Emperor Sarabian exclaimed as the momentary blur faded and the trees of the Atan vanished to be replaced by the familiar blue carpeting, breeze-touched drapes, and the gleaming, opalescent walls of the royal sitting room in Ehlana’s castle. ‘Isn’t there some way you can announce that you’re coming, Sparhawk?’

‘I don’t think so, your Majesty,’ Sparhawk replied.

‘Having a group of people simply pop out of nowhere is very unnerving, you know.’ He frowned. ‘What would have happened if I’d been standing in the same
spot as the one you just appeared in? Would we have suddenly gotten sort of combined? – all mixed together into one person?’

‘I don’t really know, your Majesty.’

‘Tell him that it is impossible, Anakha,’ Vanion, still speaking for Bhelliom, said. ‘I would not make such errors, and it is unusual for two things to be in the same place at once.’

‘Unusual?’ Sarabian demanded. ‘Do you mean that it
can
happen?’

‘I pray thee, Anakha, ask him not to pursue this question. The answers will greatly disturb him.’

‘You’re looking fit, Sarabian-Emperor,’ Betuana said. ‘You are much changed. Do you know how to use that sword?’

‘The rapier? Oh, yes, Betuana. Actually, I’m quite proficient.’

‘The weapon is light for my taste, but each of us must select such arms as suit him best. Sparhawk-Knight and Vanion-Preceptor tell me that much has changed. Let us consider those changes and adjust our plans to fit them.’ She looked at Ehlana and smiled. ‘You look well, Sister-Queen,’ she said. ‘Matherion suits you.’

‘And you’re as lovely as ever, dear sister,’ Ehlana replied warmly. ‘The gown is breathtaking.’

‘Do you really like it?’ Betuana turned almost girlishly to show off her deep blue Atan gown which left one golden shoulder bare and was girdled at the hips with a golden chain.

‘It’s absolutely stunning, Betuana. Blue is definitely your color.’

Betuana glowed at the compliment. ‘Now then, Sarabian,’ she said, all business again, ‘what’s happened, and what are we going to do about it?’

‘I do not find that amusing, Sarabian-Emperor,’ Betuana declared angrily.

‘I didn’t say it to amuse you, Betuana. I felt much the same way when they told me about it. I’ve sent for the lady. You’re probably going to have to see for yourself.’

‘Do you take me for some child to be frightened by stories of ghosts and hob-goblins?’

‘Of course not, but I assure you, Xanetia really
is
a Delphae.’

‘Does she glow?’

‘Only when it suits her. She’s been suppressing the light – for the sake of our peace of mind – and she’s altered her coloration. She looks like an ordinary Tamul, but believe me, she’s far from ordinary.’

‘I think you’ve lost your mind, Sarabian-Emperor.’

‘You’ll see, dorlin’.’

She gave him a startled look.

‘Local joke.’ He shrugged.

The door opened, and Xanetia, Danae and Sephrenia entered.

Princess Danae, her face artfully innocent, went to Betuana’s chair and held out her arms. Betuana smiled at the little girl, picked her up, and held her on her lap. ‘How have you been, Princess?’ she asked in Elenic.

‘That’s all right, Betuana,’ the little girl replied in Tamul. ‘Sephrenia’s taught us all to speak the language of humans. I’ve been a little sick, actually, but I’m all better now. It’s really boring to be sick, isn’t it?’

‘I’ve always thought so, Danae.’

‘I don’t think I’ll do it any more, then. You haven’t kissed me yet.’

‘Oh,’ Betuana smiled. ‘I forgot. I’m sorry.’ She quickly attended to the oversight.

Sarabian straightened in his chair. ‘Queen Betuana of Atan, I have the honor to present Anarae Xanetia of
Delphaeus. Would you mind showing the queen who you are, Anarae?’

‘An it please thee, Majesty,’ Xanetia replied.

‘It’s a startling experience, your Majesty,’ Emban said to the Atan queen, folding his pudgy hands on his paunch, ‘but you get used to it.’

Xanetia looked gravely at Betuana. ‘Thy people and mine are cousins, Betuana-Queen,’ she said. ‘Long, however, have we been separated. I mean thee no harm, so fear me not.’

‘I do not fear thee.’ Betuana lapsed automatically into archaic Tamul.

‘Mine appearance here in Matherion is of necessity disguised, Betuana-Queen. Behold my true state.’ Once again the color drained from Xanetia’s hair and face, and her unearthly glow began to shine through.

Danae calmly reached up to touch Betuana’s face with one small hand. Sparhawk carefully concealed his smile.

‘I know what you’re feeling, Betuana,’ Sephrenia said quite calmly. ‘I’m sure you can imagine how Xanetia and
I
both felt about each other the first time we met. You know about the enmity between our two races, don’t you?’

Betuana nodded, obviously not trusting herself to speak.

‘I’m going to do something profoundly unnatural, Anarae,’ Sephrenia said then, ‘but I think Atana Betuana needs reassurance. Let’s both try to control our nausea.’ Then, with no hesitation or evident revulsion, she embraced the glowing woman. Sparhawk knew her very well, however, and he could see the faint ripple along her jaw. Sephrenia had steeled herself as she might have before thrusting her hand into fire.

Almost timidly, Xanetia’s arms slipped around Sephrenia’s shoulders. ‘Well met, sister mine,’ she murmured.

‘Well met indeed, my sister,’ Sephrenia replied.

‘Did you notice that the world didn’t come to an end, Betuana?’ Ehlana said.

‘I think I
did
feel it quiver, though,’ Sarabian smiled.

‘We seem to be surrounded by people obsessed with their own cleverness, Xanetia,’ Sephrenia smiled.

‘A failing of the young, my sister. Maturity may temper their impulse to levity.’

Betuana straightened in her chair and put Danae down. ‘This alliance meets with your approval, Sarabian-Emperor?’ she asked formally.

‘It does, Betuana-Queen.’

‘Then I shall abide by it.’ She rose to her feet and went to the two sorceresses, holding out her hands. Sephrenia and Xanetia took those hands, and the three stood together so for a long minute.

‘Thou art brave, Betuana-Queen,’ Xanetia noted.

‘I’m an Atan, Anarae.’ Betuana shrugged. Then she turned and gave Engessa a stern look. ‘Why did you not tell me?’ she demanded.

‘I was told not to, Betuana-Queen,’ he replied. ‘Sarabian-Emperor said that you would need to see XanetiaAnarae before you would believe that she is who we say she is. He also wanted to be present when you and she met. He takes delight in the astonishment of others. His is a peculiar mind.’

‘Engessa!’ Sarabian protested.

‘I am bound to speak the truth as I see it to my queen, Sarabian-Emperor.’

‘Well, I suppose you are, but you don’t have to be quite so blunt about it, do you?’

‘All right, then,’ Vanion summed it all up, ‘we start marching north with the knights, the majority of the local Atan garrisons, and the Imperial Guard. We’ll make a great deal of noise and show about it, and
Ekatas, Cyrgon’s High Priest, will pass the word to Zalasta and Cyrgon that we’re on the way. That will give Stragen’s murderers a free hand, because everybody will be watching
us. Then,
when the Harvest Festival’s over and the bodies start to turn up, our friends out there should be a bit distracted. At that point, Sparhawk takes Bhelliom to northern Atan and releases the Troll-Gods. Northern Atan becomes totally secure at that point. We reverse our line of march, pick up the bulk of the Atans, and go south to meet Scarpa. Are we all agreed so far?’

‘No, we’re not, Vanion-Preceptor,’ Betuana said firmly. ‘The Harvest Festival’s still two weeks away, and the Trolls could very well be in the streets of Atana in two weeks. We
have
to devise some means to slow their advance.’

‘Forts,’ Ulath said.

‘I must be getting used to you, Ulath,’ Kalten laughed. ‘I actually understood that one.’

‘So did I,’ Sarabian agreed, ‘but the Trolls might just bypass any forts we build and keep marching on Atana.’

‘The
Trolls
might, your Majesty,’ Sparhawk disagreed, ‘but Cyrgon won’t. Cyrgon’s got the oldest military mind in the world, and a soldier absolutely will
not
leave enemy strongholds behind his lines. People who do that lose wars. If we build forts, he’ll
have
to stop his advance to deal with them.’

‘And if the forts are in open fields, the Trolls won’t be able to hide in the forest,’ Bevier added. ‘They’ll have to come across open ground, and that’s going to put them in plain view of the Peloi archers, my catapult crews, and Khalad’s crossbowmen. Even if they cover the field with smoke, we’ll be able to put down a goodly number of them with blind shots.’

‘My Atans do not like to hide behind walls,’ Betuana said stubbornly.

‘We all have to do things we don’t like sometimes, Betuana,’ Ehlana told her. ‘Forts will keep your warriors alive, and dead soldiers don’t serve any purpose at all.’

‘Except to provide supper for the Trolls,’ Talen added. ‘There’s an idea, Sparhawk. If you could train your Pandions to eat their enemies, you wouldn’t need supply trains.’

‘Do you mind?’ Sparhawk said acidly.

‘It still won’t work,’ Betuana told them. ‘The Trolls are too closely engaged with my armies. We don’t have
time
to build forts.’

‘We could build the forts a few miles behind your lines and withdraw your troops into them once they’re finished, your Majesty,’ Sparhawk told her.

‘Have you had many dealings with Trolls, Prince Sparhawk?’ she asked tartly. ‘Do you have any idea at all of how fast they can run? They’ll be on top of you before you can get the walls up.’

‘They can’t run anywhere if time stops, your Majesty. We used that when we were on our way to Zemoch. The Troll-God of Eat can put people – or Trolls – into the space between one second and the next. We found that when we were in that space, the rest of the world didn’t move at all. We’ll have plenty of time to build the forts.’

‘Why don’t you verify that with the Bhelliom before you start making predictions, Sparhawk?’ Emban suggested. ‘Let’s be sure that it’s going to work before we base any strategies on it. Let’s find out if it has any reservations about the notion.’

Bhelliom, as it turned out, had several. ‘Thy design is flawed, Anakha,’ it responded to Sparhawk’s question. Vanion’s hand lifted Sephrenia’s tea-cup and released it.

The cup stopped in mid-air and hung there.

‘Take the vessel down, Anakha,’ Vanion’s voice instructed.

Sparhawk took hold of the cup and immediately found that it was as immobile as a mountain. He tried as hard as he could to move it, but it simply stayed where it was.

‘Thou couldst not so much as move a leaf, Anakha,’ Bhelliom told him. ‘Thou canst easily move
thyself
through that frozen moment, but to move other objects would require thee to move the entire universe.’

‘I see,’ Sparhawk said glumly. ‘Then we wouldn’t be able to cut down trees and build forts, would we?’

‘Are those structures of great importance to thee? Doth some obscure custom require them?’

‘Nay, Blue Rose. It is our intent to place obstructions in the path of the Trolls that they may not attack our friends, the Atans.’

‘Wouldst thou be offended were I to offer suggestion?’

Ulath looked sharply at Tynian. ‘Have you been talking to that poor stone in secret?’ he accused.

‘Very funny, Ulath,’ Tynian said sourly.

‘I did not understand.’ Vanion’s tone was slightly chilly.

‘It is an ongoing discussion between the two, Blue Rose,’ Sparhawk explained, giving the pair a hard look. ‘It hath reached a point so obscure now that it is incomprehensible. Gladly would I hear thy suggestion, my friend.’

‘Is it needful to injure the Trolls, Anakha? If they be totally denied access to the lands of thy friends, the Atans, must thou kill them?’

‘Indeed, Blue Rose, we would prefer
not
to cause them harm. When their Gods wrest them from Cyrgon’s dominion, shall they be our allies.’