by Steven Brust
"What must be in order?"
"Listen, and I will explain."
"Very well, I am listening."
"First, there must be fresh water in barrels every twenty feet along the entrenchments."
"The well is full, and, should it run low, the stream is tolerably close. Next?"
"There must be bags of biscuits next to the water barrels."
"I understand about the biscuits, we have been baking them for three days. What else?"
"Clean linen piled next to the biscuits, to dress wounds."
"I understand about the linen, and we have a good supply. What else?"
"That is all."
"I will make the arrangements."
"You understand what is required?"
"Your Lordship will judge: Water, biscuits, linen."
"That is it."
"Very good."
"All is then ready. I but await word that the army is ready to move."
Teldra bowed. "Then I have nothing left but to wish you all the best of fortune, my lord."
The others echoed this sentiment, and, as they were doing so, the signal came that Morrolan's horse was saddled, and his army was ready to march. In only a few minutes, with no ceremony whatsoever, Morrolan was mounted and leading his force—numbering, we are told, somewhere between three thousands and four thousands—toward their meeting with the forces of the self-styled Emperor Kâna.
Even as Morrolan, mounted, we should add, on a pure-white Megaslep mare, began his march, not far away Grita was leaving the small pavilion-tent that had been arranged for the comfort of him who called himself His Majesty, Kâna. On her way out, she happened to pass a familiar figure.
"Well, Lieutenant," she said, giving him an ironic bow. "I hope the day goes well for you, and that we will soon have the opportunity to meet again, as we have agreed."
For his part, Tsanaali returned both the bow and the irony. "I anxiously await the opportunity to do so—if, indeed, I survive the upcoming engagement."
"You say if you survive? You, then, fear this little band we face?"
"Them? Not the least in the world. But, rather, I do not consider it impossible that, while I am engaged in defending His Majesty, you will arrange to have me poniarded."
Grita chuckled. "Am I to be insulted by this?"
"There is no need to waste time with such pretense."
"You, however, would never do such a thing to an enemy—dispatching him with guile?"
"I would never achieve a victory at the cost of my honor; that is the difference between us."
"Is that it? Do you think, perhaps, that there is also this difference: I am determined?"
"And I am not?"
"You carry out your duties as well as you can, being certain that you are never required to do anything on a certain list, a list of things a nobleman wouldn't do. Whereas I—"
"Yes, you?"
"I intend to accomplish what I have set out to accomplish, and I do not let obstacles deter me—whether the obstacle is imposed from without, or is only in the mind."
Tsanaali shrugged. "You have only re-stated what I did you the honor to explain before."
"Have I? Well, Lieutenant, so long as there is a difference, I am content."
"I am glad that you are. Then, until we are able to meet under circumstances more to our liking, I bid you—"
"Ah, but a moment, before we conclude this charming conversation."
"Yes, madam?"
"I was bidden to find you by His Majesty, and to require you to wait upon him. As I find you so near to him, my task is thus made easier."
"I shall do so at once."
"So much the better, for it is now nearly full morning, and a fine time to finish the business."
"Yes. And afterward, our own business."
"We have already agreed upon that, Lieutenant; it is useless to repeat it. Besides, I think you will have other things to occupy your mind after you speak with His Majesty."
Tsanaali frowned. "Explain."
Grita shrugged. "I only mean that the Emperor will have some very specific instructions for you; instructions that will keep you busy enough not to worry about personal errands."
"And how is it you know so well His Majesty's intentions?"
"Because it was I who suggested to him the mission."
"Mission?"
"Yes."
"What is this mission?"
"There is a noble lady who must be protected, and brought to His Majesty."
"And you said that I should be the one to do this?"
"Not in the least. But, after explaining what would be required, he directed me to send for you. And now—"
"Well?"
"You are keeping him waiting, and that will not do at all, you know." And before the officer could say another word, she had continued past him and on her way.
As Tsanaali, still scowling, begged permission to come before His Majesty, some few miles away Tazendra was sitting in the shade of a droopy old willow sharpening her sword. This willow was at the top of a small hill—a very small hill, more of a mound—with something like a glen below it with a quite respectable stream or brook running at its feet, and some number of other deciduous trees, mostly willows, camped about to keep watch on the hill. Tazendra, and the rest of our friends, had made a sort of encampment on both sides of the brook.
Pel approached her as she was just completing her task and she looked up, saying, "Is it, then, time to move?"
"Nearly," said Pel.
"Bah. It has been nearly time for a hundred years."
"Well, you perceive there is no hurry. We know where they are, and—"
"Do we?"
"Assuredly. Khaavren and Piro did the scouting themselves."
"Ah! The father and the son. Well, that is good then. I sometimes regret that I have no son or daughter, you know. Do you have such regrets?"
"I? No, I have never given the matter any thought. But you know, it is not too late."
"For me? Oh, yes. There is only one man I should have considered marrying, and he is not of my House, so the matter is completely impossible."
"I did not know that. Is it someone I know?"
"Know him? I think you do. It is our friend, Aerich. But come, let us see what the others are doing. There will be some steel singing today, and, I shouldn't wonder, a bit of wizardry as well, so I will have my staff in one hand."
Without giving Pel time to respond to the astonishing announcement which she had made so casually, she rose and went over to where Grassfog and his friends had made a small fire and were drinking klava.
"Well," she said, addressing this worthy. "Are you and your compatriots ready for the day's festivities?"
"Ready?" said Grassfog. "Well, I imagine there is nothing that could make us more ready, so the answer, perforce, is yes."
"And are you eagerly awaiting the opening of the games?"
"My lady," said the recent bandit, "do you pretend it matters if I am eager?"
"Well, why should it not?"
"My lady, I was agreeably disappointed when, upon the defeat of our band, we were not all summarily killed, as is, you must admit, customary."
"Oh, I do not deny that; Her Majesty was merciful."
"I am aware of this."
"Well, and then?"
Grassfog shrugged. "And so we have been granted a few more days to live, and we are all grateful. If we should die today—"
"Well, if you should die?"
"Then so much the worse for us. We have gained several days, and we see each day of life, especially when one has been granted such a reprieve, as a gift. And so you see—"
"Yes?"
"We are not eager to play, but neither does it matter if we are eager. We will do as we are ordered to, and die when it is time to die, and be grateful for the time in between."
Tazendra shook her long hair and said, "My friend, we see things differently."
"The Gods! We should! Because, in the first place, I am not a Dzur."<
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"Well, that is true. And in the second?"
"In the second, you are not a bandit."
"Do you know, I believe you have hit upon a great truth there."
"A great truth? Bah. I only work in small truths. Small truths, small purses, small rewards. That was what our leader, Wadre, taught—because he pretended that small purses were less likely to lead to great chases. Great chases lead to captures, and captures, to a bandit, can never be pleasant. And, well, it seems that he was correct."
"You think so?"
"I think that the first time he deviated from this principle it led at once to his death."
"Certainly, that is an argument in favor of his principle."
"I think so, too."
"And yet, I have always been happier with grand enterprises."
"Then you should be eager for to-day's festivities to begin."
"Oh, I am, I am! And, moreover, I am sorry that you are not."
Grassfog shrugged. "We will fight all the same, and, when all is over, that is what matters, is it not?"
"Yes, I suppose it is."
"Well then, all is well."
Tazendra frowned and attempted to make sense of this conversation, but in the end, merely sketched Grassfog a hasty bow and a smile of friendship, and moved on to where Piro, Kytraan, Ibronka, and Röaana sat at their ease. As she approached, Kytraan looked up and said, "Do you think there will be much sorcery in to-day's battle?"
"Well," said Tazendra. "I fully intend to try out my new spell; I would imagine everyone who can will do the same. What makes you ask?"
"We have been talking," said Kytraan.
"That is right and proper," said Tazendra at once. "Many talk before a battle. Some sleep, but that is more unusual, and displays a coolness that, I freely confess, is beyond my powers. Others wish for silence and solitude, which I respect, although—"
"Yes," said Kytraan, "only we have been speaking on a certain subject."
"Oh, that is a different matter altogether. Then, to judge, it becomes a matter of knowing the subject."
"Well, then I shall I tell you."
"Certainly. I am listening."
"We have been considering sorcery, and its use in the upcoming battle."
"A worthy subject; I say so," pronounced Tazendra, without the least hesitation.
"I am glad you think so," said Kytraan.
"I have been wondering," said Röaana, "if the use of sorcery would be, well—"
"Yes?"
"Strictly honorable."
"Honorable? And yet, how could it not be?"
"Because we have the Orb on our side."
"Well, and if we do?"
"Our enemies do not. Hence, we are able to do things which they cannot do."
"And yet, could they not use the Orb as well, merely by choosing citizenship?"
"Certainly," said Röaana. "But then, if they did that, they would have surrendered."
"Well, there is something in what you say," admitted Tazendra. "And how does Piro feel about this?"
"Oh," said Piro, "as for me—"
"Well?"
"I am considering the matter."
"Yes, it is worth considering," agreed Tazendra. "But for myself—"
"Yes, for yourself?"
"I should like to hear Aerich's opinion on this matter."
"Then let us call him," said Ibronka. "I, too, am anxious to hear his opinion."
"Then," said Piro, "let us ask him."
"Very well," said Tazendra. "Aerich! Come, we wish to ask you a question."
The Lyorn had been sitting with his back to a tree, ankles crossed in front of him, and his eyes closed. Upon hearing his name, he opened them, smiled slightly, rose, approached Tazendra, and bowed. "You wish for something, my dear?" We should add that Khaavren, Pel, and Zerika, who had been speaking to one another quietly, observed this, and, without a word passing between them, agreed to follow Aerich and listen to the conversation.
"We are involved in a debate, and we would like you to settle the matter for us."
"I am at your service, as always. What is the subject?"
The matter was quickly explained to Aerich, who frowned and shrugged. "Well," he said, "I believe this is a matter that can be clarified easily enough. My dear young Tiassa is, I'm afraid, looking too much at the matter of the coming fight as simply a fight."
"Well, but is it not?" said Röaana, genuinely puzzled.
"It is more than a fight. It is a step in the restoration of the Empire."
"Well, and if it is?"
"The defense of the Empire is a gentleman's first duty, at all times. To attack the Empire, as those people are doing, is, well, it is to commit a grave crime. A grave moral crime, that is; which goes beyond a matter of statute. Any aristocrat can declare this or that thing illegal—but to commit a crime is to do something wrong, and to oppose the Empire is to commit a crime. This is not a matter of making a test of combat, but of preventing a great evil."
"And so the method by which this is accomplished is not important?" said the young Dzurlord, looking rather dubious.
"Important?" said Aerich. "Very! It is of supreme importance. It is through the means that the goal is accomplished. If the goal is important, how can the means not be?"
Röaana shook her head and glanced at Tazendra as if for help, but the Dzurlord ignored this silent plea, and merely frowning as if trying to work out for herself the Lyorn's logic; instead it was Piro who came to Röaana's aid, saying,
"My lord, let me attempt to explain the issue in other terms, so that we may achieve some clarity in the matter."
"Very well," said Aerich. "Clarity is important at all times, but never as much as when one is about to risk one's life. I am listening."
"As I understand the lady's point, it is this: Are you actually saying that, if the goal to be achieved is noble, we are permitted to use ignoble means to accomplish it?"
"Not the least in the world," said Aerich.
"But then, what you have done us the honor of telling us could be interpreted in exactly this way."
"Then I trust you will permit me to clarify my position?"
"Permit you? My lord, I believe I speak for the others when I say I would like nothing better in the world."
"Very well, then, this is my belief: Those who say the ends justify the means, and those who say the ends do not justify the means, are both wrong."
"Both wrong?" said Tazendra, who had been following the conversation carefully. "Impossible! You perceive, they are saying opposite things, therefore, if one is right, the other must be wrong, and if one is wrong, the other must be right. Is that not logic?"
"It is logic, of a form," agreed Aerich.
"Well?"
"It is, however, incomplete. In this case, it is not the answer that is wrong, it is the question."
"Bah! How can a question be wrong?"
"Well, if I were to ask you whether you prefer to fight a battle empty-handed, or holding a piece of cloth, you might tell me that my question was wrong; that, in fact, you would rather be holding a certain length of tempered or folded steel."
"Not only might I, my dear Lyorn, but I most certainly would."
"Therefore, you perceive, in that case, the question would be wrong."
"Well, but—" Tazendra broke off, frowning.
Röaana spoke instead, saying, "Then, in the case which we are discussing, how is the question wrong?"
"Exactly what I wish to know!" cried Tazendra, delighted.
"In this way. There is a relationship between means and ends, but is neither one of justifying, nor of failing to justify."
"But then, what is it?" said Piro.
"It is one of prescribing and proscribing," said the Lyorn.
Röaana frowned, started to speak, but instead interrogated Aerich with a look, inviting him to continue. Aerich bowed. "Consider that, if I am at my home, and wish to visit a neighbor who is located along a road that runs to the east, I will not
usually travel west. My decision to travel east is not justified by my goal of visiting my neighbor, but is rather determined by it."
"But is it not true," said Röaana, "that there are many roads to a destination?"
"Indeed, that has often been said," replied the Lyorn. "But one can only walk upon one. And the decision as to which road to take is determined by the goal. One must know one's destination, and perhaps be aware of other matters—dangers upon some roads, or a particular view one enjoys along another, or delays from flooding along a third. All of these matters, subordinate to the goal, influence our decision as to the road we choose."
"And so," said Piro, who had been closely following this reasoning, "if one finds oneself using dishonorable methods to achieve a goal, it would follow that the goal, itself, is dishonorable? Or, if not dishonorable, in some other way flawed?"
Aerich looked over at Khaavren and smiled. "Your son," he said, "has your quick comprehension. He listens, he understands, and then he takes the next step on his own."
The older Tiassa smiled proudly and bowed, while the younger one flushed slightly and could not restrain a quick glance at Ibronka—a glance the Dzurlord missed, as she happened to be looking down at the time.
"And is the young Tiassa satisfied with the answer?"
"My lord," said Röaana, "you have given me a great deal to think over, and I must do so."
"Very well," said Aerich. "And the Dragon?"
"It is clear enough to me," said Kytraan. "Her Majesty says fight, and so I fight."
"I believe I like this gentleman," murmured Tazendra.
"And what of the young Dzurlord, who has remained so uncharacteristicly quiet?"
Ibronka smiled. "I admire your reasoning, my lord, and moreover, I believe I must do myself the honor of being in agreement with you on all points."
Aerich turned suddenly and said, "And I cannot help but wonder what our Yendi thinks of this reasoning."
Pel permitted himself a thin smile. "It is not new to me," he said. "I seem to recall many conversations on this subject sitting in the parlor of our house on the Street of the Glass Cutters. And my own opinion has not changed, nor do I see a need to re-state it now. Instead, I will content myself with an observation."
"And that is?" said Tazendra. "For my part, I always find your observations both interesting and apropos."
"My observation is this," said Pel, with a bow in Tazendra's direction. "It requires a certain bending of logic to consider that our use of sorcery might be dishonorable, when we are about to enter a battle outnumbered by something like a thousand to one."
