by Sharon Green
This time the comments and exclamations were far louder than mere murmurs, and even Ebro cursed under his breath. The restrictions in Gandistra against the use of talent had been a great source of comfort to the citizens and leaders of Gracely, and now those restrictions were about to come to an end. This couldn’t possibly have happened at a worse time for Ebro, and he had to struggle so hard to keep from showing his true feelings that he almost missed the next question.
“Excuse me, Frode, but what about the ‘invading army’ sent here to Gracely?” Antrie Lorimon asked for herself, not bothering to put the question through Cleemor Gardan. “Have they been forgotten about in all the confusion, I hope?”
“No such luck, Exalted One,” Mismin answered with a grimace. “That Seated noble Blending ordered the army home before the Blending was defeated, and the army was on its way and out of reach before anyone knew what was happening. The army was supposed to head west, I’m told, but the nobles leading the army decided their duty lay in ‘defending Gan Garee.’ In other words, they were hurrying home to defend their own property and fortunes.”
“Well, that isn’t likely to hurt us in any way,” Tal decided aloud after a moment. “No one in that army knows what we did to them, so they can’t accidentally mention it at the wrong time to the wrong people. Once they get back to Gan Garee, they’ll either be destroyed or else take charge. Either condition will suit us nicely, but we do have a decision or two to make. If the commoners win again, shall we send a furious delegation demanding reparations for the damage done our property, or a nervous delegation all but begging for a peace treaty?”
Other members of the assembly began to make audible comments then, but Ebro listened with only half an ear. He’d meant to make his move against Zirdon Tal and Antrie Lorimon in a little while, but now a postponement would be necessary. Inexperienced replacements of the two leaders would be easier for him to handle, but then the coalitions would be far too likely to stand together in the face of the Gandistra problem. Ebro needed the coalition members squabbling and trying to stab each other in the back, not cooperating against a possible common enemy.
Keeping nothing but the usual dull, blank expression on his face, Ebro reluctantly leaned back to listen to what was being suggested as the best way to approach the new leaders of Gandistra. When his own plans worked out, the approach would no longer be even a small problem. But first his own plans had to work out, and as much as he detested the delay he would simply have to accept it…
Cleemor Gardan walked out of the assembly building with a very silent Antrie Lorimon. He’d known Antrie long enough to recognize the signs, so he waited until they were all but walking alone before speaking.
“All right, what have I missed this time?” Cleemor murmured, trying to keep his usual growl from traveling to the closest ears. “Something is bothering you badly, but I don’t know what it can be.”
“Actually, there are two things bothering me,” Antrie admitted with a sigh, glancing up at him. He always felt too large and blocky beside the small, delicate, and graceful woman, but his size never seemed to disturb her. “You heard what Frode said, just as I did. That common Blending took supporters from intended and actual members of their army.”
“Yes, I did hear that,” Cleemor agreed cautiously. “What about it?”
“Two things about it,” Antrie responded, her expression continuing to be more than sober. “The first point is something I’m sure you know, but have probably forgotten. In Gandistra, the challenging Blendings were all made up of High talents even though the Seated Blending never had anything but Middles.”
“But – that means the common Blending now in control is composed of all Highs,” Cleemor protested, suddenly alarmed. “The rest of our Blendings are just strong Middles, and that puts us at a very great disadvantage.”
“More than that,” Antrie added with a sigh. “Their followers also have to be Highs, since they were people meant to be added to their army. There’s no doubt that the army sent here was mostly Highs with some strong Middles, all but their leaders, of course. That makes the situation considerably worse than Zirdon obviously considers it.”
“So what sort of delegation to send is the least of our worries,” Cleemor said, forcing himself not to exclaim aloud. “What we really need to do is think of a way to keep those people out of Gracely, or come up with a way to deal with them if they don’t stay out. We may also have to exchange the Middle members of our Blendings for actual Highs.”
“Taking Highs into our Blendings will never work,” Antrie disagreed with a headshake. “Every High dreams of facing one of us and winning a place in the assembly for themselves, and it happens often enough that newcomers aren’t discouraged. How many of them do you think will give up that dream? Enough to fill out a full fifteen Blendings? I really don’t think so, and if all Blendings can’t be filled out, no one can allow any of them to be.”
“No, not when that one High Blending would probably try at once to take over,” Cleemor agreed with a sigh. “No one in the assembly would be willing to take the chance, so that option is a dead issue. It seems that our only other choice is to make sure that the new rulers of Gandistra never set foot in Gracely.”
“That may not be possible,” Antrie said, the continuing worry in her eyes disturbing Cleemor even more. “That common Blending didn’t destroy the members of the army they encountered, it freed them to be followers. If it does the same with the members of the army that was here, it could conceivably learn something we don’t want Gandistra to know.”
“Yes, and we can thank Zirdon for that,” Cleemor growled, no longer caring if anyone heard him. “What we did was his brilliant idea, an idea he forced through when most of the rest of us wanted to destroy that army. Now we’re faced with the consequences of that action, but Zirdon won’t be the only one harmed because of them.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t oppose him more strongly,” Antrie said with her own sigh. “The main reason I didn’t was that he had a very valid point. If we destroyed the army, as soon as the nobles in Gan Garee found out they would have sent a larger, stronger force. That was a foregone conclusion, so the best idea seemed to be to let the army send back reports of success while in reality it did absolutely nothing. If we’d known that the nobles would soon be too concerned with saving their necks to send anyone at all – But we didn’t know, so I don’t see what else we could have done.”
“Well, now we have to come up with an else,” Cleemor said, glaring around at those who glanced at him because of his growling. “And it had better be a really good else, or we might find ourselves in quite a lot of trouble. The only luck we’ve had in this whole mess is that we’ve only firmed up our plans to invade Gandistra, and haven’t yet put them into practice.”
“I doubt if that will help us if the new rulers of that empire find out about the plans,” Antrie pointed out dryly as she stopped not far from the line of carriages waiting to pick up assembly members. “Everyone here in Liandia knows about those plans, which means that someone will say the wrong thing at the wrong time. Even accepting an embassy from Gandistra will probably end in disaster.”
“So we’ll have to tell the others about this as soon as possible,” Cleemor grumbled. “But we’d better start with our own people first, or they’ll begin to believe we’re keeping secrets from them.”
“No, they already believe we’re keeping secrets,” Antrie corrected, still speaking dryly. “This would just confirm that belief. If you’ll take care of informing our supporters, I’ll be the one to explain it to the entire assembly tomorrow during the meeting Zirdon called. He expects to discuss what sort of delegation to send to Gandistra, and won’t look good when it’s pointed out how much of the critical picture he’s missed.”
“And he’ll look even worse when it’s a lowly woman doing the pointing out,” Cleemor added with a chuckle. “Between that and his loss of Sheedra Kam as a toy to be loaned out, we ought to pick up at least two or
three of his current supporters.”
“I’m hoping for four, which will reduce him to the position of being no more than a nuisance,” Antrie said very softly while making sure that no one overheard her. “We can’t afford to have serious opposition at a time like this, not when our positions and possibly even our lives are at stake. Let’s not forget what that common Blending did to rid itself of the nobles. If we aren’t very, very careful, the same thing could happen to us.”
“I’ll be sure to mention that when I speak to our people,” Cleemor promised, suddenly feeling the least bit pale. “I’ll caution them all not to say a word until we get to the meeting tomorrow, and then the impact of the revelation won’t be softened. And I’ll also have my people look around for whoever might be after you and Zirdon both. We need to know who that is as soon as humanly possible.”
“To keep them from acting at the worst time for all of us,” Antrie agreed with a nod. “I’ve already set my own people on the problem, so hopefully we’ll learn something. And soon enough to avert disaster. Give my love to your wife, Cleemor, and we’ll speak again tomorrow before the meeting.”
Cleemor bowed as he watched Antrie walk away toward her carriage, but his mind was occupied by neither bowing nor watching. His thoughts were filled with worry, both for himself and his beloved wife Tenia. Something had to be done to keep all of them from going down in ruin, but at the moment not a single plan came to mind. Well, if it became necessary, he wasn’t above arranging the deaths of two or more members of that common Blending they’d been discussing. What good that would do, Cleemor didn’t know, but as he walked to his own carriage he silently admitted that he also didn’t care.
Doing something was better than doing nothing, especially if it meant the possible protection of the woman Cleemor loved more than life itself…
Chapter 9
“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?” Lorand asked, not only me but everyone else in the Blending as well. “I mean, just walking out like this?”
“If we don’t, we might as well put the slave chains on ourselves instead of waiting for them to do it,” I pointed out, trying not to sound too impatient and short tempered. “I didn’t risk my life time and time again just to end up working under the thumb of a fool. We’d be doing things his way, not ours, and we’d probably be better off with the nobles.”
We’d gathered in my wing of the palace this morning, and now that breakfast was over we were getting ready to leave. We’d all packed up some of our clothing, and would send for the rest of it once we were settled back into my house.
“She’s right, love,” Jovvi told Lorand gently with a hand to his arm. “I know how you feel about walking away from your responsibilities, but Relton Henris has made it impossible for us to stay. As Tamma said, if we did stay we’d be doing things Henris’s way rather than ours.”
“And besides bein’ a fool, the man has too many blind spots,” Vallant put in next from where he sat beside me at the table. “Thinkin’ there’s no real difference between Middle talents and Highs is dangerous as well as stupid, and knowin’ that about him tells me he’s stupid about other things as well.”
“And it seems that we’re supposed to do this,” Naran added, her expression as sympathetic as it usually was. “At this point we really have no other viable choice, not if we’re going to make a true difference in the empire. If we agree to allowing any restrictions on us whatsoever, we’ll spend our time arguing rather than doing.”
“All right, I surrender,” Lorand admitted with both hands held up palms out. “I can see that even Rion agrees with you, so in this instance my feelings must be wrong. And I have to agree that our staying won’t help if we aren’t allowed to continue on as we see fit.”
“Not to mention the fact that they think they can keep Naran from being a part of our Blending,” I finished up as I stood. “I’ll never allow something like that, and besides, I’ve always wanted to be an outlaw.”
“An outlaw?” Rion echoed with brows high as he and the others followed my example and got to their feet. “Why in the world would you think we would end up being outlaws?”
“It stands to reason,” I explained patiently, pausing on the way to where I’d left my one piece of luggage. “If someone Henris and his cronies approve of gets to run things, having Naran with us won’t be the only thing they’ll declare illegal. Training people in the proper use of magic will also be disallowed, because whoever takes over won’t be able to control things if it isn’t. But spreading the word about how to use magic properly is necessary, so I’ll continue to do it no matter what. The rest of you will probably do the same, and that will make us outlaws.”
“Now I see the point,” Lorand said ruefully as Rion sighed and simply nodded. “I’ve never had the urge to be an outlaw, but it looks like it will end up being my ultimate career choice. Will they just lock us up, or decide in the end to execute us?”
“They’ll be too busy with the riots to spend much attention on us,” Naran commented, and the way she stared into empty air said she wasn’t simply guessing. “If they try to take over in our place and do things according to their own beliefs and desires, they’ll tear the whole empire apart starting with Gan Garee. But that’s just one possibility among many, so don’t think it has to come to be.”
“And no, we can’t do anything to change their minds if we stay here,” I said as Lorand opened his mouth again. “As long as they think we’ll handle things until they can wear us down into agreeing with their demands, they won’t make a single effort to change their stance. That army heading in this direction is probably the best thing that could have happened right now.”
“It will put things in perspective for them,” Vallant said as he picked up my bag as well as his own. “Right now they’re seein’ runnin’ things as nothin’ but handin’ out orders. When they find out how much more there is, they just might start seein’ reason.”
“I hope they see it soon enough to keep that army from walking in and taking over for the nobles again,” Lorand muttered as he picked up Jovvi’s bag in addition to his own. “If they don’t, it will just make things harder for us.”
“If necessary, we’ll step in before that happens,” Jovvi assured him with a smile. “Our associate Blendings know we won’t go to unreasonable extremes while this disagreement is going on, so they won’t offer Henris a way out of the dilemma by agreeing to help.”
“Look, I really do know all this, so I apologize for making you all say it,” Lorand blurted, looking around at us with unhappiness clear in his eyes. “It’s just that… ”
“It’s just that you’re too decent a person not to protest a little,” I finished when he let his words trail off, moving close to lean up and kiss his cheek. “We know that, love, so don’t let it bother you. And now it’s time we got going.”
Rion had claimed his and Naran’s luggage, so I led the way out of my wing toward the part of the palace that would bring us to the palace entrance. Or the palace exit, as it happened to be. The servants in my wing had stared at us with confusion in their eyes, but they hadn’t said anything and made no attempt to stop us. The same, however, didn’t hold true for the crowd we found waiting in the public part of the palace. Everyone from the city who had been at the party the night before seemed to be there, along with a few people extra.
“There, you see?” Lavrit Mohr exclaimed even as he sketched a bow in our direction, the Guild High Master standing at the front of the crowd. “I told you they meant what they said last night and really would leave. Obviously you’re wrong again, Henris.”
“Just because they’re carrying luggage doesn’t mean they intend to leave,” Henris came back, stubbornness in the set of his broad shoulders. “As a matter of fact, I’ll bet those bags are all empty.”
“Guess again,” Vallant said as I bristled up, stepping forward before I could. “Daylight hasn’t made you any less of a fool, Henris, and fools always need to be shown the err
or of their ways.”
And with that he dropped my bag on Henris’s feet, making the shop owners’ Guild head howl and stumble back. Everyone else in the crowd laughed with true amusement, and that made Henris furious.
“Obviously you knew I was going to say that about the bags, so you all made sure to pack them,” he snarled, sending a quick glare to Naran before returning his attention to Vallant. “I still say you’re just bluffing, trying to force us into giving you permission to invade our private lives. That’s not going to happen, so you might as well take that stuff back where it belongs and get on with doing what you’re supposed to. That army is getting closer to us by the minute, and it’s your job to stop it.”
“It would be our job if we were the head of this empire,” Vallant countered, holding the fool’s gaze while others in the crowd muttered uneasily. “You’ve been makin’ it clear that you consider yourself the head of the empire, so you take care of that army. We have private lives to get on with.”
“But you can’t just walk out on us,” Rilna Zokill, the woman representing the disenfranchised, protested, her expression troubled even as others echoed her words. “You know well enough that we can’t do anything against that army, so it has to be you or one of the other Blendings. Some of us have already spoken to members of the other Blendings, but they refuse to do so much as listen. They said we have to straighten this out with you.”
“That’s because they all know we’re strongest,” I told the woman, doing nothing to hide my sense of satisfaction. “In this empire the strongest Blending has always ruled, and there’s more to the circumstance than mere law. If you ever manage to become a member of a Blending yourself, you’ll find out what I mean. But don’t count on ever being part of a Blending if that fool Henris is allowed to take charge. The first thing he’ll do is limit the practice and use of magic just the way the nobles did.”
