As the two of them fell into stride, Abivard asked quite casually, «What sort of lessons has Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his years be many and his realm increase, taken from the Videssians?»
«Ah, you heard about that, did you?» Yeliif said. «From the lady your sister, no doubt.»
«No doubt,» Abivard agreed. They walked on a few steps, neither of them saying anything. Abivard poked a little harder: «You do know the answer?»
«Yes, I know it,» the beautiful eunuch said, and said no more.
«Well?»
Yeliif didn't answer right away. Abivard had the pleasure of seeing him highly uncomfortable. At last the beautiful eunuch said, «While I do know the answer, I do not know whether I should be the one to reveal it to you. The King of Kings would be better to that role, I believe.»
«Ah.» They walked along a little farther. By way of experiment Abivard shifted into Videssian: «Does the eminent Tzikas know this answer, whatever it may be?»
«No, I don't believe he does,» Yeliif answered in the same tongue, and then glared at him for being found out.
«That's something, anyhow,» Abivard said in relief.
«Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his days be long and his realm increase, considered it, but I dissuaded him,» Yeliif said.
«Did you? Good for you,» Abivard said; the beautiful eunuch's action met with his complete approval. Something else occurred to Abivard: «Did he by any chance tell Hosios Avtokrator?» He kept all irony from his voice, as one had to do when speaking of «Hosios»; though the King of Kings had gone through several puppet Avtokrators of the Videssians without finding any of them effective in bringing Videssians over to Makuran, he kept on trying.
Or he had kept on trying, anyhow. Matching Abivard in keeping emotion from his voice, Yeliif said, «Hosios Avtokrator—» He did not say, the most recent Hosios Avtokrator, either."—had the misfortune of suddenly departing this world late this past summer. The King of Kings ordered him mourned and buried with the pomp and circumstances he deserved.»
«Died suddenly, you say?» Abivard murmured, and Yeliif nodded a bland nod in return. «How unfortunate.» Yeliif nodded again. Abivard wondered whether the latest «Hosios,» like at least one of his predecessors, had shown an unwonted and unwanted independence that had worried Sharbaraz or whether the King of Kings had simply decided to give up serving as puppet-master.
Then a really horrid thought struck him. «The King of Kings isn't planning on naming Tzikas Avtokrator if we ever do conquer Videssos the city, is he? Please tell me no.» For once he spoke to the beautiful eunuch with complete sincerity.
«If he is, I have no knowledge of it,» Yeliif answered. That relieved Abivard, but less than he would have liked. The eunuch said, «Myself, I do not believe that policy would yield good results.» His doelike black eyes widened as he realized he'd agreed with Abivard.
«When can I hope for an audience with the King of Kings?» Abivard asked, hoping to take advantage of such unusual amiability from Yeliif.
«I do not know,» the beautiful eunuch answered. «I shall pass on your request to him. It should not be an excessively long period. Better he should talk to you than to the Videssian.»
«When I came to Mashiz, didn't you mock me with the news that Tzikas had gotten here first?» Abivard said.
«So I did,» Yeliif admitted. «Well, we all make mistakes. Next to Tzikas, you are a pillar supporting Sharbaraz' every enterprise.» He glanced toward Abivard. Those black eyes suddenly were not doelike but cold and hard and shiny as polished jet. «This should by no means be construed as a compliment, you understand.»
«Oh, yes, I understand that,» Abivard said, his voice as dry as the summer wind that blew dust into Vek Rud stronghold. «You loathe me as much as you ever did; it's just that you've discovered you loathe Tzikas even more.»
«Precisely,» the eunuch said. As far as Abivard could tell, he loathed everyone to some degree, save perhaps the King of Kings. Did that mean he loathed himself, too? No sooner had the question crossed Abivard's mind than he realized it was foolish. Being what he was, any hope of manhood taken from him by a knife, how could Yeliif help loathing himself? And from that, no doubt, all else sprang.
Abivard said, «If I were a danger to Sharbaraz, I would have shown as much a long time ago, wouldn't I? Tzikas, now…» A mutual loathing was as good a reason for an alliance as any, he thought, and better than most.
Yeliif eyed him with a look as close to approval as he'd ever won from him. «Those last two words, I believe, with their accompanying ellipsis, are the first sensible thing I have ever heard you say.»
As compliments went, it wasn't much. Abivard was glad of it all the same.
Courtiers with elaborately curled hair and beards, with rouged cheeks, with caftans bound by heavy gold belts and shot through with gold and silver thread drew down their eyebrows—those whose eyebrows were gray or white had a way of drawing them down harder than did those whose brows remained dark—when Abivard and Roshnani came into the banquet hall arm in arm.
Custom died hard. Sharbaraz King of Kings had kept his word about allowing Denak to leave the women's quarters, a liberty the wives of nobles had not enjoyed till then. And for a while a good many nobles had followed their sovereign's lead. Evidently, though, the old ways were reasserting themselves, for only a couple of other women besides Roshnani were in the hall. Abivard looked around to see if his sister was among them. He didn't see her, but then, Sharbaraz hadn't yet entered, so that didn't signify anything.
He stiffened. Denak wasn't there, and neither was Sharbaraz, but there sat Tzikas, talking amiably with a Makuraner noble from the Seven Clans. To look at the Videssian renegade, he hadn't a care in the world. His gestured were animated; his face showed nothing but sincerity. Abivard knew, to his cost, how much that sincerity was worth. The noble, though, seemed altogether entranced. Abivard had seen that before, too.
To his dismay, the servant who led Roshnani and him to their places seated them not far from Tzikas. Brawling in the palace was unseemly, so Abivard ignored the Videssian renegade. He poured wine first for Roshnani, then for himself.
Sharbaraz came into the hall. Everyone rose and bowed low. The King of Kings entered alone. Sadness smote Abivard. He hoped Denak was not at Sharbaraz' side because little Peroz needed her. He doubted it, though. The King of Kings had given his principal wife more freedom than was customary, but custom pulled even on him. If he wasn't wholehearted about keeping such changes alive, they would perish.
Roshnani noted Denak's absence, too. «I would have liked to see my sister-in-law without having to go into the women's quarters to do it,» she said. She didn't raise her voice but didn't go to any trouble to keep it down, either. A couple of courtiers gave her sidelong looks. She looked back unabashed, which seemed to disconcert them. They muttered back and forth to each other but did not turn their eyes her way again.
A soup of meatballs and pomegranate seeds started the feast. For amusement Abivard and Roshnani counted the seeds in their bowl; pomegranate seeds were supposed to bring good luck. When they both turned out to have seventeen, they laughed: neither one got to tease the other.
After the soup came a salad of beets in yogurt enlivened with mint Abivard had never been fond of beets They were far more tolerable here than in most of the dishes where they appeared.
Rice gorgeously stained and flavored with sour cherries and saffron followed the beets. Accompanying it was mutton cooked with onions and raisins. Roshnani mixed hers together with the rice. Abivard, who preferred to savor flavors separately, didn't.
The food, as usual in the palace, was splendid. He gave it less attention than was his habit, and he was moderate with his wine, calling for quince and rhubarb sherbets more often than he did for the captured Videssian vintages Sharbaraz served his grandees. He directed more attention to his ears than to his tongue, trying to catch what Tzikas was saying behind his back.
Tzikas had been saying things behind his bac
k since not long after the Videssian had fled the Avtokrator he had formerly served. He hadn't thought Abivard knew about that—and indeed, Abivard hadn't known about it till almost too late. Now, though, he had to think Abivard would hear him, and that, to Abivard's way of thinking, would have been the best possible reason for him to keep his mouth shut.
Maybe Tzikas didn't know how to keep his mouth shut Maybe he could no more stop intriguing than he could stop breathing: he might claim to worship the God, but he remained Videssian to the core. Or maybe he just did not really believe Abivard could overhear. Whatever the reason, his tongue rolled on without the least hesitation.
Abivard could not make out everything he said, but what he caught was plenty:"—my victory over Maniakes by the banks of the Tib—» Tzikas was saying to someone who hadn't been there and couldn't contradict him. He sounded most convincing, but then, he always did.
When Abivard turned toward Tzikas, Roshnani set a warning hand on his arm. He usually took her warnings more seriously than he did now. Smiling a smile that had little to do with amiability, he said, «When you came to Mashiz, Tzikas, you should have set up shop in the bazaar, not the palace.»
«Oh?» Tzikas said, staring at him as if he'd just crawled out from under a flat stone. «And why is that?» No matter how he aped Makuraner ways, the renegade kept all his Videssian arrogance, remaining convinced that he was and had to be the cleverest man around.
Smiling, Abivard sank his barb: «Because then you could have sold your lies wholesale instead of doling them out one by one the way you do here.»
Tzikas glowered at him. «I am not the one who handed my subordinate to the enemy,» he said.
«True enough—you don't do things like that,» Abivard agreed. «Your subordinates are safe from you. It's your superiors who have to have eyes in the backs of their heads. What would you have done if you had killed Maniakes by magic and made yourself Avtokrator of the Videssians?»
«Beaten you,» Tzikas said. Yes, he had his own full measure and to spare of the overweening pride that singularly failed to endear the imperials to the men of Makuran.
But when Abivard said «I doubt it,» that didn't merely spring from his angry reaction to the renegade's words. However skilled an intriguer Tzikas was, Abivard was convinced he had his measure in the field. Lightly, casually, he went on, «That wasn't what I meant, anyhow.»
«What did you mean?» Now Tzikas sounded ominous, beginning to realize Abivard was scoring off him.
Abivard scored again: «I meant you'd be bored sitting on the throne with no one in Videssos to betray.»
Tzikas glared at him; that had gotten to the renegade, even though the odds were good that it wasn't true. An intriguer would hardly stop intriguing because he'd schemed his way to the top. He'd sit up there and scheme against all those—and there would surely be some—who'd try to follow him and pull him down. And even if he saw no one who looked dangerous, he would probably destroy a courtier every now and then for the sport of it and to keep rivals wary.
«If you want me to prove what sort of liar you are, I will meet you when and where you like, with the weapons you like,» Tzikas said.
Abivard beamed at him. «The first generous offer you've made! We've tried to kill each other before; now I can do it properly.»
«It is forbidden,» Yeliif said. Abivard and Tzikas both stared in startlement at the beautiful eunuch. Yeliif went on, «Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his years be many and his realm increase, has let me know he requires both of you for the enterprise he contemplates beginning next spring.»
«What is this fabled enterprise?» Tzikas demanded. Good, Abivard thought. Yeliif wasn't lying to me—Tzikas doesn't know, either. He would have been offended to the core had Sharbaraz enlightened the Videssian renegade while leaving him in the dark.
Yeliif sniffed. «When the proper time for you to gain that knowledge comes, rest assured it shall be provided to you. Until such time cherish the fact that you will be preserved alive to acquire the knowledge when the time comes.»
«He certainly doesn't deserve to live to find out,» Abivard said.
«At one time or another a good many have expressed the opinion that you yourself did not merit remaining among the living,» the beautiful eunuch replied coldly. Abivard knew full well he had been among the leaders of those expressing that opinion.
Injustice still stung him. «Some people thought I was too successful, and so I had to be a traitor on account of that. But everyone knows Tzikas is a traitor. He doesn't even bother pretending not to be.»
«So he doesn't,» Yeliif said, favoring Tzikas with a glance as icy as any with which he had ever chilled Abivard. «But a known traitor has his uses, provided he is watched at all times. The King of Kings intends to get such use as he can from the renegade.»
Abivard nodded. Where Tzikas was concerned, Sharbaraz had less to worry about than did Maniakes. Tzikas had already tried to steal the Videssian throne. Whatever else he might do, he could not set himself up as King of Kings of Makuran.
That didn't mean he could not aspire to any number of lesser but still prominent offices in Makuran, such as the one Abivard had. He'd already aspired to that office and done his best to throw Abivard out of it. He'd do the same again if he saw a chance and thought Sharbaraz would look the other way.
Abivard made a solemn resolution: regardless of whether Sharbaraz intended using Tzikas in this grand scheme of his, whatever it was, he was going to take out the Videssian renegade if he saw even the slightest chance of doing so. He could always apologize to the King of Kings afterward, and had no intention of granting Tzikas the same chance.
Winter dragged on. The children got to go out into the courtyard now, as they hadn't in years gone by. Even Gulshahr was old enough now to pack snow into a ball and throw it at her brothers. Doing that left her squealing with glee.
Videssian captives tutored Varaz and Shahin. Abivard's sons took to lessons with the same enthusiasm they would have shown taking poison. He walloped them on the backside and kept them at it.
«We already know how to speak Videssian,» Varaz protested. «Why do we have to know how to make speeches in it?»
«And all these numbers, too,» Shahin added. «It's like they're all pieces of a puzzle, and they're all scrambled up, and the Videssians expect us to be able to put them together as easy as anything.» He stuck out his lower tip. «It's not fair.» That was the worst condemnation he could give to anything not to his liking.
«Being able to count past ten without having to take off your shoes won't kill you,» Abivard said. He rounded on Varaz. «You'll be dealing with Videssians your whole life, most likely. Knowing how to impress them when you talk won't do you any lasting harm.»
«When you first went into Videssos, did you know how to speak the language there?» Varaz asked.
«Not so you'd notice,» Abivard answered. «But remember, I grew up in the far Northwest, and I never expected to go into Videssos at all, except maybe as a soldier in an invading army.» He folded his arms across his chest. «You'll keep on with your lessons,» he declared as firmly as Sharbaraz promulgating a decree. The King of Kings could make the whole of Makuran heed him. Abivard's authority was less than that but did extend to his two boys.
They studied more than mathematics and rhetoric. They rode ponies, shot bows suited to their strength, and began to learn swordplay. They would acquire a Videssian veneer—Abivard was convinced it would prove useful—but beneath it would have the accomplishments of a proper Makuraner noble.
«The more different things you know how to do, the better off you'll be,» Abivard told them.
The man that thought called to mind, unfortunately, was Tzikas. The Videssian renegade knew not only his own tongue but that of Makuran as well. He could tell convincing stories in either one. He was a talented soldier to boot. If he'd been only a little luckier, he would have been Avtokrator of the Videssians or perhaps commander of the Makuraner field army. No one had ever come closer to meet
ing both of those seemingly incompatible goals.
He was missing one thing, though. Abivard wasn't sure it had a name. Steadfastness was as close as he could come, that or integrity. Neither word felt quite right. Without the quality, though, Tzikas' manifold talents brought him less than they might have otherwise.
Yeliif said the same thing a different way a few days later. «He is a Videssian,» the beautiful eunuch intoned, as if to say that alone irremediably spoiled Tzikas.
Abivard eyed Yeliif with speculation of a sort different from that which he usually gave the eunuch. In the matter of Tzikas, for once, they shared an interest. «I'd be happier if we never had to speak of him again,» Abivard said, an oblique message but not so oblique that the beautiful eunuch couldn't follow up on it if he so desired.
Yeliif also looked thoughtful. If the notion of being on the same side as Abivard pleased him, he didn't let his face know about it. After a little while he said, «Didn't you tell me Tzikas has wavered back and forth between the God and the false faith of Phos?»
«I did. He has,» Abivard answered. «In the next world he will surely fall into the Void and be forgotten. I wish he would be forgotten here and now, too.»
«I wonder,» Yeliif said in musing tones, «yes, I wonder what the Mobedhan Mobedh would say on hearing that Tzikas has wavered between the true faith and the false.»
«That is an… intriguing question,» Abivard answered after a moment's pause to weigh just how intriguing it was. «Sharbaraz has forbidden the two of us to quarrel, but if the chief servant of the God comes to him with a complaint that Tzikas is an apostate, he may have to listen.»
«So he may,» Yeliif agreed. «On the other hand, he may not. Dhegmussa is his servant in all things. But a man who will not notice his servants is less than perfectly wise.»
Not a word passed Abivard's lips. For all he knew, the beautiful eunuch was playing a game different from the one that showed on the surface of his words. He might be hoping to get Abivard to call the King of Kings a fool and then report what Abivard had said to Sharbaraz. Abivard did think the King of Kings a fool, but he himself was not so foolish as to say so where any potential foe could hear him.
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