"Delwin was a fine man, an officer with promise. Gajaran is now concerned that he served evil. That she serves evil. That we all in fact, serve evil." Mirrin gestured and looked around him, as if to encompass the entire camp. "Thanks to you, she's a bundle of nerves and terrified that Siranva will abandon her."
"I never said she, or her owner, or you, were evil." Sandev took a sip of alovak.
"You let her believe that was what you meant." Mirrin's eyes flashed in anger.
"All who serve or follow Nicolfer and Dervra serve or follow evil. I didn't tell her that, but she is clearly intelligent enough to work it out for herself."
"This army serves Eldova and Hingast."
"Who in turn follows Dervra and Nicolfer." Sandev gave a small smile. "And they serve only the interests of the Malefic Sephiroth. You are a tool of evil, General Mirrin."
"Nonsense."
"You and your land deserve better, Mirrin. When a tool breaks, it is thrown away. Dervra and Nicolfer have used many lands and many people in their schemes. It always ends in tears."
"I'm not interested in whatever it is you believe." Mirrin's eyes flashed dangerously. "Neither did I bring you here for a debate. You will leave those sylphs alone. Stop frightening them. Stop frightening Gajaran."
"You wanted to see me because you are concerned for the feelings of an ownerless infertile?" Sandev raised an eyebrow and glanced at her untouched alovak.
"A moment ago you berated me for not understanding them." A quick smile, a point scored. "I'm concerned for the feelings of all my people, human and sylph."
Sandev held her tongue.
Mirrin's dark eyes were intent. "Orphaned is a better word than ownerless, under the circumstances. At least as far as understanding infertiles is concerned. I wanted to see you because you have upset Gajaran."
"The capture of the sylph scout is what upset Gajaran and I had nothing to do with that."
"Scout Belaika-y-Marcus." Mirrin smiled. "He should fetch a pretty ransom. I'm surprised you and he do not talk more, you must know each other."
"Nicolfer spends far too much time with him as it is. I don't want to earn him more of her attention."
"She has not harmed him."
"Yet."
Mirrin sighed and drained his alovak. "I know it is a pointless exercise to ask anyone to change their beliefs."
Sandev shrugged.
"However, I will not tolerate you causing distress to any members of this camp, human or sylph. If necessary, I will see that discipline is maintained in this camp. I trust that is clear?"
Sandev leaned forward. "General Mirrin, I've heard so many threats in my lifetime that they bore me. I represent truth and lie to nobody. Nicolfer and Dervra are evil and I mean precisely that. There are many claimants to the Throne of Marka who do not enjoy my support, but they are not evil. I did not pick on Hingast for no reason. But Dervra is evil. Nicolfer is evil. And they worked on Hingast's mind until he was evil."
Mirrin's eyebrows climbed again. "Was? He has repented perhaps?"
"You don't know?" Sandev gave a gentle smile. "Hingast is dead. Killed by Marcus Vintner. He came close to the Throne, but not close enough."
Mirrin laughed. "You prove yourself a liar from your own mouth. Hingast is alive and well; it is only days since he last visited me with Nicolfer. Did you actually see the body?"
"Of course not. Nicolfer captured me the same night. I've been here ever since."
"So your opinion is based on unfounded rumor." The laughter was gone. "Drink your alovak and go. Above all, leave those sylphs alone; I want no more minds poisoned with your nonsense."
Sandev ignored her alovak, said nothing more to Mirrin, and left. Time to work on that block to her Gift.
Despite her ill temper, Sandev spotted Shashi skulking towards Mirrin's tent entrance. Not as good as the sylph scouts, she was easily seen. Sandev would eat grass for a week if Mirrin's sylph had not been eavesdropping after leaving the tent.
She reconsidered her suspicions.
She had initially thought Gajaran had carried tales, but perhaps the orphaned sylph had only talked to the other sylphs and that Shashi had carried the tale to her owner.
Reaching Nicolfer's tent, Sandev threw herself onto one of the rugs and sat crosslegged to consider Mirrin's words. The man was clearly a lot more aware of what went on in his camp than she had allowed.
If Shashi gathered information for her owner – and Sandev did not blame her for that, only herself for not realizing sooner – then she must be more circumspect around the officers' sylphs in future.
No matter what Mirrin wanted, Sandev had no intention of abandoning the ownerless sylphs now. She had worked too hard to win their trust.
One of those sylphs poked her head into the tent. Ojasan had not had time to bond with her previous owner before he died in an accident, so she actively sought another. Sandev wished her luck with that.
"Sandev-ya, Nicolfer has returned. She is in Mirrin's tent."
"No doubt she wants me."
Ojasan smiled. "A private meeting. Dervra and Hingast are with her."
Sandev's eyebrows lifted. "Hingast is with her?" It seemed as though Mirrin might be at least partly right. But it could not possibly be Hingast.
Ojasan nodded. "And Dervra."
"I must see them."
"They should not be disturbed. Tula and Vristan had to serve alovak and even they stay outside the tent."
"That's because Nicolfer and Dervra are in there." Sandev stood.
Their discussion came to an end as the sergeants roused the rest of the camp.
"General muster! General muster!"
"That includes us," remarked Sandev. She reflected she would get no chance to work on the block tonight.
Ojasan nodded.
In the central square of the camp, soldiers and camp followers squeezed together, where a few boxes made a temporary dais. The ownerless sylphs stayed at the back, but Sandev pushed her way almost to the front of the throng.
Nicolfer and Dervra stood behind the boxes, firelight shadows flickering across their faces. Mirrin and Hingast stood side by side atop the crates.
Sandev stared open-mouthed as the soldiers cheered around her.
It was definitely Hingast. Tall and broad-shouldered, long black hair swayed as he nodded his head to the acclamation. Gray-blue eyes regarded the crowd before him and he waited in vain for silence. Mirrin eventually shook a small bell and silence fell.
"Comrades," began Hingast. "The road was harder than planned. We have all spent too long away from loved ones."
A murmur of assent met his words.
"The time now comes to bring it to an end. Tomorrow comrades, at last – at long last – you turn east for Marka!"
Sandev watched as men capered and cheered. She was not too saddened; soldiers left bored too long were always euphoric at the thought of impending action. These men were no different from any others.
"The end game is at hand, comrades," continued Hingast. "When Marka is dealt with, we can all go home."
A final cheer and the sergeants dismissed the men.
Sandev stood and stared. How could this be? She had not seen the man's body, but reliable people had told her of Hingast's death. And sylphs were not given to spreading lies.
She watched discreetly and kept carefully out of sight as Hingast spoke with Mirrin. Nicolfer was shrugging her shoulders at something and Dervra looked stony-faced.
Sandev decided now might be a good time to speak with Belaika and ask about Hingast's "death".
However, it was obvious that other people wanted to speak with the captive scout. Before she reached his cage, she realized that Hingast's small group was also heading his way.
Sandev's heart sank. If Hingast decided he wanted a nice, noisy hunt... She kept out of sight and eavesdropped.
"Congratulations," said Hingast. "You managed to capture one."
"A lucky accident, Majesty," pointed out Mirrin.
&nb
sp; "Lucky or otherwise, I am pleased. Who captured him?"
"Camanda. Well, his horse Firedrake trod on the boy."
Hingast nodded. "Promote him. Camanda that is, not his horse."
A small ripple of laughter ran through the group.
Sandev blinked. A joke out of Hingast?
Mirrin bowed. "As you command, Majesty."
Hingast's attention returned to Belaika, who stared defiantly back.
Don't be foolish, Sandev silently willed at him. Don't anger him.
"Has he said much?" asked Hingast.
"Not yet," replied Nicolfer, "but we're working on him. He's had the thirst punishment all day."
"Really?" Hingast peered closer. The scout suddenly shrank back, but Sandev could see no reason why. "He looks remarkably well watered to me."
"Yes," replied Nicolfer, after a furious look at Mirrin. "He does."
Mirrin sniffed. "If you want answers out of the boy then ask him the proper questions. Nobody goes thirsty in my camp."
Hingast held up a hand. "No squabbling, children."
Nicolfer scowled at Mirrin before her attention returned to Hingast. "I hope you do not want to take him with you. I would prefer to continue his interrogation here."
Hingast smiled. "I have given up hunting sylphs," he told her. "Relax, your prize is safe. For now."
Now, that is interesting, reflected Sandev.
"Mirrin, you have your orders."
"Majesty." Mirrin inclined his head again.
Hingast turned to Dervra and Nicolfer. "We have other camps to visit tonight. We'd best be about it."
"Of course, Majesty." Dervra smiled. "We will depart from General Mirrin's tent; that will be more private."
As the two former members of the Ten led Hingast away, Mirrin stared into the darkness, directly at Sandev.
She stepped forward and glanced quickly at Belaika. The sylph sat on the ground, hugging his knees and apparently ignoring the humans.
Mirrin smiled at her. "Thought you might be here. Satisfied about Hingast now?" He walked away.
Belaika did not look up as Sandev came closer.
"They told me he was dead," she said.
Belaika looked up, his silver-gray eyes glowing in the darkness. This close, they looked to her like beacons. "Hingast is dead," he insisted.
Sandev gestured, helplessly. "They don't believe that here."
"I felt the same just then as the night Branad-ya died." Belaika's voice was quiet.
"Did you ever get close enough to Hingast to know if he feels any different now?"
"Of course not. But I did see the body. And his bones still hang outside two of Marka's gates."
Sandev sighed. "You saw a body."
Belaika stiffened.
"I don't doubt your word," she added hastily. "It's the people here who will."
"I never met Hingast," continued the sylph. "But when he looked at me, I saw recognition in his eyes. The man knows me. So I am sure I know who he really is."
"You're sure?"
"Sandev-ya, sure from me means certain. That is Ranallic Eydren."
***
Chapter 8
Rumor
Olista Allert stared into the mirror, pulled a face and poked his tongue out at his reflection. Despite the self-mocking manner, his dark blue eyes regarded himself rather solemnly. Rather a lot of gray had appeared in his medium brown hair over the past year. He should not complain; many men got their first gray hairs in their thirties, though most waited another decade. Olista would be sixty-one years old at his next birthday.
He usually felt only half that age, but sometimes felt every day of his life weighing on him. Supreme Councilor in Marka, his responsibilities were many and sometimes heavy. There were always difficulties but, after more than forty years serving Marka – he had joined the City Guard at seventeen and never been out of public service since – he was more than used to problem solving.
Over the past few months, he had needed these skills more than ever.
He had gained much satisfaction and harbored few regrets from his life. His plutocratic family had hammered a strong sense of duty into him from an early age. Life had always treated him well and he respected his good fortune.
He applied himself diligently throughout his education and paid the same careful attention to every task given him since. Seven years a Lieutenant in the City Guard, a little more than a dozen years a Senator, followed by service in the Supreme Council. High Councilor was not the end of his success: he reached the dizzy height of Supreme Councilor six years ago, the youngest to hold that office for almost three centuries, itself an achievement, the highest any commoner could hope for.
Yet still not his greatest accomplishment.
He had successfully seen the Throne recognized and, despite problems with the claimants, managed to get an Emperor on that Throne. If not quite the candidate anybody expected.
He scowled at the mirror and tried to ignore the mountains of paperwork surrounding him and his assistants. Every day, they ploughed through more. All the land Zenepha had granted to farmers must be accounted for and the registries brought up to date. Olista involved himself in this particular task and refused to delegate it, as he feared an inevitable clash of interests if or when the old families returned.
The assistant behind passed a document across and Olista flicked through it. "The Farren family is still around somewhere," he remarked. "I wonder if they know their tenants now own most of their land?"
Olista passed the document back to the assistant and turned his back on the mirror. He started, for it was not the usual man sat there, but Silmarila.
The gwerin smiled. "Surprising to find a man of your rank set on so menial a task." Silmarila kept her tone joking, but her smile mocked. "Concerned perhaps that His Majesty has gifted your lands?"
Olista returned the smile, if a little bleakly. "Nothing so mundane," he replied, "but even Emperors are not exempt from legal action."
Silmarila nodded. "All must be subject to the law, or there is no law," she said, an agreement of sorts.
"Just so." Olista smiled. "If Zenepha grants land that is not his to gift, there might be claims against him when the old owners return."
Just before the Second Empire collapsed, three gwerins had left Marka. Olista had searched diligently, but only this one had returned. Even so, he did not really understand her motivation. Despite enjoying considerable influence with Zenepha, she still wore a collar around her neck. She really preferred slavery here to freedom elsewhere?
But even with that collar, he envied her in many ways.
"The old owners." Silmarila's smile broadened. "They fled and as a result, all was forfeit. They refused to fulfil their duties and obligations. The old Empire is dead; a new one now rises in its place."
"And where did you crawl back from? I don't seem to recall you being in the city until rumors of a new Emperor pulled you here."
Silmarila did not rise to the insult, though he understood gwerins were slow to anger at any time. Even so, baiting her might not be a very good idea.
The gwerin gestured to her collar. "I claim nothing for myself," she retorted. "Merely property returned to her rightful owner. I belong to the Throne and was sent from Marka by one of its last occupants. Not a former owner, trying to reclaim something no longer mine. There is a difference."
Olista admitted she had a point, but he was unused to coming worse off in discussions like these. He envied her clear intelligence. And all gwerins were this intelligent. Little wonder that Zenepha listened more to her than to him.
"Have you come to mock my menial task?"
"No, I came to see you. Melda did try to keep your whereabouts a secret, but scribes are usually happy to answer questions."
"Why do you need to see me?" In truth, Olista had begun to feel neglected since the gwerin had walked into the palace.
"Something troubles His Majesty and I have no answer for him. He fears he has upset Sandev and wa
nts to know why she no longer advises him. I echo his worry. Where is she?"
Those dark eyes regarded him. In this bright light, Olista could see the cat-slit pupils, showing her sylph inheritance. Unsettling in that otherwise human face. Her earpoints slanted forward in determined query, exactly as a sylph's would. Or at least, he assumed her earpoints acted in the same way.
Would she detect a lie? Did she expect one? He felt like a child compared to an adult of immense age...
He looked around at his assistants, but none were close enough to hear. "Sandev is not in the city," he said.
The gwerin also had a sylph's slow blink. "That is an evasion."
"It's the truth."
"But still an evasion. I asked where Sandev is, not where she is not."
Olista grimaced. "She has disappeared and not even Grayar knows where she is. Is that direct enough for you?"
Silmarila nodded. "Disappeared as in run away or kidnapped?"
"Kidnapped." The assistants still had their heads buried in manuscripts. "As far as we know, it's gwerins who run away."
Again, no reaction from Silmarila. No wonder gwerins needed imperial protection, they must all eventually rub their owners up the wrong way.
Olista continued. "It might be best for the Emperor's confidence if this does not reach his ears."
"Grayar is at Sandev's villa?"
"When he's not out looking for her, yes."
"Perhaps this is not bad news," said Silmarila, gently. "I know Sandev, she will resist and discover everything she can for our advantage before freeing herself." The solemnity dissolved into a broad smile. "She is very resourceful."
"I know."
Silmarila inclined her head. "Thank you for your frankness, even if it had to be dragged out of you."
"You're welcome." Was the gwerin friend or not? Olista must remember that she served the Throne and nothing else.
He watched her go before turning his attention back to the scrolls. The gwerin had not promised to keep the news about Sandev from Zenepha. He sniffed; he had come off worst from the conversation. If she told the Emperor, on her head be the consequences.
***
Grayar was aware of Tangan's inner turmoil.
The rangy sylph crouched on his heels, arms wrapped around his knees. The rug must be far more comfortable to even his tough feet than cold flagstones. Perhaps he had enough of cold whenever sent outside to exercise.
The sylph had settled well, given who his former owner had been. Grayar held no illusions: the boy's name gave away that Nicolfer had been at him, and the human wondered what form of control had been exercised.
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