“Not here, Konis! This isn’t the place for guests!”
Konis nodded to Che’Quul. “Here.” He put his hand over his mate’s and gently patted it as the attendant left.
“I’ve suffered a multitude of little insults from Esken over the past couple of months, Rhyasha. He obviously wants something from me, so now it’s payback time.”
“I object to you using my home like this, Konis,” she grumbled, pulling her hand free and getting to her feet. “Choa!” she called as she headed off into the main kitchen area.
Konis cradled his mug of c’shar in both hands, mouth open in a gentle smile.
*
Esken looked disgruntled as he and Sorli followed Che’Quul into the kitchen.
“Forgive the informality, Master Esken,” said Konis smoothly, getting to his feet. “Rhyasha and I were enjoying a late first meal. Please, sit down.”
Esken lowered himself onto the end of the bench while Sorli, with a slight smile of amusement, stepped nimbly over.
Rhyasha came bustling in with Choa. “Master Esken, Tutor Sorli.” She nodded to them, then turned to Choa to take from her the tray laden with an assortment of homemade cookies and pastries. These she placed on the table in front of them. “The c’shar will be ready in a moment. I hope you don’t consider it too early to indulge in a snack, but I thought since we’re being informal …”
Rhyasha! His tone was disappointed.
Konis! Hers was gently mocking as she turned to fetch plates from a cupboard.
Sorli leaned forward to look at the pastries, mouth open in a delighted smile. “They’re homemade! I can’t remember when I last had homemade pastries.”
Esken gave him a withering glance which his assistant made sure he didn’t catch.
As Choa returned with mugs and c’shar which Rhyasha began to dispense, Konis decided it was time to start talking.
“What brings you out here, Esken?” he asked, helping himself to one of his favorite cookies. “How can I help you?”
Esken smiled briefly. “On the contrary, Clan Lord, it’s we who have come to do you a favor. Sorli, the comp, if you please.”
Sorli hastily put his pastry down and reached into his ample pocket. From it he produced a comp pad which he handed to Esken.
Esken took it from him with a faint look of distaste.
“Did I get crumbs on it?” asked Sorli unrepentantly, pushing the last of the sweet into his mouth. He leaned forward and attempted to brush them off with a hand that left more behind than it removed.
The Guild Master’s ears began to twitch.
Rhyasha leaned forward and took it from him. “Here, let me do that,” she said, wiping it with the cloth Choa had left. She handed it back to him. “There you are, good as new.”
“Thank you,” said Esken, his tone clipped. He put the pad on the table in front of him. “I know you’re unofficially involved in collating the information from various sources regarding the Cataclysm. I’m also aware that you and your son probably have the most comprehensive database of dreams and visions experienced by telepaths—and I include those from the Brotherhood and elsewhere. It’s because of this that I’ve come to you.”
Konis maintained his mask of neutral interest with some difficulty.
“Ghyan owes his loyalty to Father Lijou as Head Priest of his Order, especially where religious matters are concerned,” said Esken. “Dreams and visions of our God belong in that category, so there is little communication from him with me regarding these topics.”
He stopped to tap the comp pad with a claw tip. “I have here a transcript of documents written by past Guild Masters, Konis. What it says, and what we’ve proved by collaboration with Ghyan, is, to put it mildly, frightening.”
Konis stirred. “I take it you’ve handed this information over to the committee?”
“Not yet. I intend to do so, but first I’ve come to you offering a truce.”
Konis raised an eye ridge. “A truce, Esken? Were we at war?”
Esken began to growl deep in his throat.
“If I might interrupt for a moment, Master Esken,” said Sorli. “We’re approaching you in a spirit of mutual cooperation, Clan Lord. Once our findings have been given to the committee, it is highly unlikely they will be made available to you or anyone else for fear of starting a global panic. However, Master Esken feels that the interests of Shola will be best served if you and he can agree to cooperate on certain issues.”
Konis looked from one to the other of them. “What issues?” he asked, aware that his abruptness was almost an insult.
Sorli winced slightly as Esken’s growl, which had subsided, grew again. “Master Esken and I feel that the contents of this transcript should be made known to you so that you can include it in the database you are compiling.”
“And in return you want what?” asked Konis.
Sorli hesitated, looking back to his Guild Master.
“Get on with it,” Esken growled.
“Access to the mixed Leskas.”
“Ah,” said Konis. He stretched out and helped himself to another pastry, then, as if remembering his manners, lifted the plate and held it out toward Esken and Sorli. “Do try one, Esken. Rhyasha made them and they’re rather good, even if I do say so myself.”
Esken waved them away but Sorli quickly reached for another.
Well, are you going to accept? Rhyasha sent.
It’s not up to me, it’s up to Kusac. I have no jurisdiction over him. Theoretically he’s a member of the Brotherhood now.
“Stop quartering the undergrowth, Konis,” growled Esken. “You’re a fair-minded person. You know by rights I should have some involvement with those mixed pairs. Our guild has the teachers they need, the experience the Brotherhood lacks.”
“You’re still playing politics with the future of our world, Esken. If you believe this information is as vital as you say, and that including it with our findings is important, you shouldn’t be withholding it from us.”
“Your high-handed actions over the last few months have been nothing short of a campaign of …”
“Be quiet!” said Rhyasha, stunning both males into silence. “Esken, my mate is quite right. If this information is so vital, you shouldn’t be using it to bargain with. Konis, it took a lot for Esken to come here and offer to deal with you. Considering the bad blood between you two, it was a noble gesture and should be treated as such. Having said that, Master Esken, the only person who can agree to you having any contact with the mixed Leskas is our son, Kusac. His people are living on his estate, under his leadership, independent of us. They belong to the Brotherhood of Vartra. Kusac is also the person responsible for the database, not us. He passes on his findings, but that’s all. Your offer is being made to the wrong people, I’m afraid.”
“Then where is he?” Esken demanded.
“I’ve no idea. Do you want me to locate him?” she asked, already reaching out for her son. “I have to say that if you continue to insist on a trade for this information, I have doubts concerning its importance.”
“Just put my proposal to him,” snapped Esken.
“My bond-daughter informs me he’s unavailable today. He’s attending to business in the capital.”
Carrie, this could end the hostility between us and the Guild. The level of communication between you and Esken could be at your discretion. I don’t need to tell you of the benefits of reestablishing friendly links with him, do I?
I’m coming over, Rhyasha. Kusac says he personally is not prepared to negotiate anything at this time, however I may act for him in the interim and he’ll decide later on his course of action.
“Kusac has asked Carrie to join us and discuss the matter with you,” said Rhyasha. “Why don’t you have a pastry while we’re waiting?”
*
Carrie, followed by Dzaka and Kitra, breezed in with fond greetings for Rhyasha and Konis. Dzaka and Kitra excused themselves while Carrie settled herself in a chair beside her bond-mother. She looked
across the table to Esken.
“So, you want access to us. What degree of access are you asking for?”
“We need to know more about you. What you’re capable of, your genetic make-up …” began Esken.
“Stop right there,” said Carrie. “There will be no tests conducted by you, nor will any of our people attend the Guild for assessment or training. We have no intention of returning to the situation that existed when I arrived on Shola. We’re in charge of ourselves now, Master Esken, and we intend to remain so. However,” she said, cutting him short as he opened his mouth to speak. “However, we are prepared to make available to you the results of any tests we conduct on ourselves. I’ve been told to inform you that it would suit us to have the open hostility between you and our people at an end. It’s going to be a long time, though, before many of us are prepared to trust you enough to set foot in the Telepath Guildhouse again.”
“You’re offering nothing!”
“On the contrary,” said Carrie quietly. “We’re offering a fresh start, with no restrictions for future relationships between ourselves and your Guild. All we’re saying is that we are in control of our own lives, not you, nor anyone else. We’ve got a greater incentive to discover what’s happening to us and why, and what the limits of our talents are than you have, believe me! On the basis of that, are you prepared to trade?”
Esken sat there barely concealing his anger.
“Your position over the last two months has been eroded, Master Esken,” said Carrie. “You’ve lost us, very publicly, to another guild. You’ve been completely excluded from any involvement with us by Governor Nesul and the Forces. You’ve lost respect and support on the council because of this. If you can reestablish links directly with us, it’ll be seen that you are still a force to be reckoned with. You, personally, have more to gain by accepting what we offer than we have.”
“You said you can’t make a firm commitment,” said Esken between clenched teeth.
“Any deal Kusac agrees to will contain what I’ve outlined as a minimum, that I can promise.” Carrie looked to her bond-father. “Konis, you can witness my agreement to that, can’t you?”
“Certainly.”
“Then I accept.” The words were ground out grudgingly.
“No more attempted kidnappings? No more hostility from your staff toward us?”
“Agreed, if you start supplying us with information as soon as possible.”
“This is legally binding, you realize that, don’t you?” said Konis, looking at them both. “If either of you breaks the contract, you will be called before the Judiciary.”
Carrie nodded.
“Agreed,” Esken said.
“Then this proposed contract, agreed in principle, is to be ratified by both parties tomorrow. It is legally binding and will be registered as such from now,” said Konis.
“Your comp,” said Esken, pushing it across the table to Carrie. “If you need to know more, contact Sorli. He prepared the document.”
“Thank you, Master Esken.” She let it lie in front of her while the two Guild officials got to their feet.
“You and I should get together tomorrow, Esken,” said Konis, also getting up.
Esken turned a surprised face to him.
“We’ve got to map out a policy of cooperation over the Mixed Leska Project.”
“If I may contact you later today, Clan Lord, I’ll be able to arrange that for you,” said Sorli. “Without Master Esken’s diary …”
“Speak to my secretary,” said Konis as he escorted them from the kitchen.
Rhyasha let out a large sigh. “Thank goodness that’s resolved! Being at odds with one’s Guild is most uncomfortable, no matter how good the reason for it.”
“The fewer enemies we have, the better,” agreed Carrie. Reaching out, she picked up the comp. “Shall we see what this holds?”
“When Konis returns.”
Chapter 16
As if the contents of Esken’s transcript hadn’t worried all of them enough, later in the day Kusac sent to Carrie saying he’d been able to speak to the agent working for General Raiban in Fyak’s camp. His name was L’Seuli. He was one of the Brothers permanently attached to Intelligence and his news was mixed.
Fyak’s power over the tribes relied on several factors. Once a tribe was subdued, the Elders were taken captive and sent to Chezy. The social structure of the tribes was then demolished so the people had no one to look to but Fyak and his Faithful. Fyak’s gift of rhetoric and persuasion was what had initially drawn the people to him. Now fear held them; fear of retaliation if they disobeyed, and fear of the return of the demons that Fyak preached about so convincingly.
This last fear was justified by the tales Fyak’s bodyguards brought with them from the heart of his lair. The inner corridors and the temple itself were decorated with carvings and paintings of the lizardlike beings who’d originally inhabited the complex. L’Seuli could testify to the veracity of the rumors, having seen for himself these images of what were undeniably Valtegans.
Despite all this, lately there had been a lot of grumbling against Fyak because of his increasingly violent rages. It had come to a near-mutiny over the issue of the warriors’ wish to return to their villages and tribes to help them prepare for winter. Fyak had been compelled to back down and sanction a leave of one month commencing in two weeks time.
Fyak would then be at his most vulnerable as the majority of his troops left to plant winter crops in their villages, and the nomads moved to their winter quarters. Those who were left would be the ones who’d been under Fyak the longest—and they were thoroughly disenchanted with him. It wouldn’t take much to turn them against him.
Because of the deaths of the two fighters who’d led the assault on Lassoi, L’Seuli and his partner Rrurto had been promoted to the rank of inner bodyguards. While this had allowed L’Seuli to see the prophet at first hand, it had carried a price. Like the others close to the prophet, he’d had to wear one of the gold collars set with the green stones.
Before Kaid had been taken to Stronghold, he’d managed to confirm what L’Seuli already suspected, namely that the collars were controlled by a bracelet Fyak wore. It had taken all L’Seuli’s training with the Brotherhood to be able to resist the effects of the collar long enough to remove it while fleeing from Fyak’s lair and rejoining the Forces.
“I had to leave,” L’Seuli said to Kusac. “The collar would have visibly compromised me when my contact next communicated with me.”
“How?”
“My contact was a telepath. The collar monitors the brain waves of the person wearing it; if it identifies telepathic activity, then a circuit behind the stone lights up and triggers the release of the chemicals trapped within it. I couldn’t even warn him not to contact me!”
L’Seuli went on to say he’d discovered that as well as supplying illegal arms to the desert tribes, Ghezu was also supplying Fyak himself with an illegal drug known as la’quo. It was the psychotropic plant extract that the prophet used to put himself into trances so he could communicate with his God, Kezule.
Fyak’s original supply had come from a clump of plants found in the main cavern near the well that supplied their water. This had now been depleted and he’d had to look elsewhere. L’Seuli had seen Ghezu himself hand Vraiyou a box containing several phials of the drug. Little was known about it beyond the fact that its unauthorized use had been declared illegal by the Chemerians.
Kaid’s deception concerning the training of Fyak’s warriors had been discovered when Zhaya, chief of Ghezu’s guards, had arrived with a shipment of arms. The punishment Fyak had inflicted on Kaid had been extreme and though L’Seuli said he’d been alive when Ghezu had taken him to Stronghold, he couldn’t vouch for his condition now.
Raiban intended to arrive at Stronghold at dawn the next day, but she was giving them thirteen hours grace because of fears that Kaid might be killed when they arrived with the warrant to arrest Ghezu.
“General Raiban, I can’t thank you enough for giving me this information and the opportunity to get Kaid out,” said Kusac, “but I don’t understand why …”
“We’ve had dealings in the past,” said Raiban in a tone that made it clear nothing further would be said on the matter.
As Kusac rose to leave, L’Seuli stopped him, handing him a small package. “Give this to Kaid. I was able to retrieve it for him from the medic, Anirra,” he said.
*
Once outside, Kusac sent to Carrie.
Get yourself, Dzaka and Garras over to Dzahai village. Whatever you do, keep out of sight of the Brothers. Go to Noni and explain the situation. I’ll join you as soon as I return. I want Kaid out of Stronghold before Raiban’s forces arrive at dawn.
Why’s Raiban doing this for us?
She knew Kaid. Just thank the Gods she is! Tell Garras to take whatever he thinks we’ll need in the way of weapons—and emergency medikits. The news about Kaid isn’t good. I’ll see you there.
In the aircar on his way to Noni’s, Kusac opened the package. Within it lay a broad silver bonding bracelet. The engravings were worn but still visible as a scene of the Dzahai Mountains around Stronghold and Dzahai village.
T’Chebbi leaned over to look at it. “Kaid’s. Wore it most of time.”
Thoughtfully Kusac rewrapped it and put it into the inner pocket of his jacket.
*
“For the God’s sake, if you need me after tomorrow, call me,” said Vanna, handing Garras yet another case of analgesics from her store of drugs. “They’re all clearly labeled, showing the different strengths.”
She stopped, turning to look at him. “Are you sure you remember enough of your medic training to use these properly? Start with this type,” she said, waving a blue pack at him, “and if he gets breakthrough pain, you can use these,” she said, picking up a white pack, “every four hours.”
Garras took the packs from her and put them in the medikit he was carrying. “Vanna, I’ll remember, stop worrying. You’ve given me everything I could possibly need. By the time we have Kaid, we’ll also be able to use Stronghold’s physician and medic, as well as Noni.” He put the case down on the countertop and wrapped his arms round her.
Fire Margins Page 62
