by Sharon Green
"I've already begun to make use of it," Edmin responded as he turned from the tea service with two cups in his hands and a faint smile on his face. "That second group of fifty new guardsmen is now ours, and I'm in the process of locating even more groups outside this area. In the end we should have a force of more than three hundred men to return to the city with us."
"Excuse the intrusion, my lords," a servant said suddenly from the doorway behind Embisson as the High Lord took his teacup. "Lord Sembrin Noll is now approaching the front door. Shall I show him in immediately?"
"Yes, do, Rachers," Edmin told the man, and then after a brief pause continued with a somewhat wider smile. "You weren't able to see that, Father, but Rachers is already wearing his mask. Isn't it nice to have servants about who worry about being dismissed from their positions?"
"Dismissal will be the least of the worries of any servant who shows his or her face," Embisson murmured after making sure that Rachers really was gone. "I want there to be nothing whatsoever to link us to this meeting, just in case the worst happens. If the face of one of the servants is seen, you must make sure that he or she is never seen again."
"As you wish, Father," Edmin agreed in a murmur after sipping at his tea, making no effort to choose a chair of his own. "It's always better to be safe than sorry… Ah, and how are you today, Lord Sembrin?"
"I'm quite well, Lord Edmin," Sembrin Noll replied as he passed the escorting servant to enter the room. With clear courtesy Noll waited until he stood where Embisson could see him without twisting around before performing a polite bow. "Good day, High Lord Embisson. I trust you've recovered from the rigors of all your travels? You must have almost doubled the list of names I supplied."
"That I did, Lord Sembrin," Embisson admitted with a chuckle for the knowledge deliberately shown by the man. "I see you've been busy rebuilding your organization."
"A necessary effort if you and Lord Edmin are to be successful," Noll conceded with his own smile, but then his amusement faded. "Would you care to hear the latest while we await the arrival of our lunch guests?"
"From your expression I'm tempted to say no," Embisson observed, studying the man carefully. "That, however, would be complete foolishness, so please tell us what has disturbed you while you pour yourself a cup of tea."
"I'm also tempted, to pour something stronger than a cup of tea," Noll responded with a sigh as he nevertheless turned toward the tea service. "Unfortunately, this isn't the time to be under the influence of drink, so tea will have to do. I received word this morning that the peasants have been Seated, but the matter wasn't handled in quite the way we expected."
"How many ways are there to handle a Seating ceremony?" Edmin asked as he also watched the man. "Surely even peasants are able to follow the example they saw only a short time ago when the interlopers were Seated."
"I'm told that most of the peasants were prepared to do just that," Noll said over his shoulder as he filled a cup from the tea service. "What they were unprepared for was the desires of those to be Seated. To begin with, the Fivefold Throne is now the Sixfold Throne."
Embisson tried to think of something to say to that, but a sudden, distant memory insisted on rising. There were rather old writings, dating back to the time of the first Fivefold Blending, writings that suggested there might be more than five talents. Embisson had dismissed the veiled hints as nothing more than imagination run wild, just as everyone with sense had dismissed them. Now, though…
"How can there be more than one of each talent in a Blending?" Edmin demanded as Noll turned away from the tea service. "There can't be, so the peasants must be taking advantage of their position to elevate an outsider. That means we have an excellent point of attack against them, one that even the other peasants will sympathize with."
"I'm afraid not, Lord Edmin," Noll disagreed with a sigh as he moved to a chair and sat. Edmin chose his own chair, his face creased into a frown. "One of the now-Seated group explained that there's another talent called Sight magic, and they were successful at including that new talent into the Blending. The addition was what let them get the better of the Astindan invaders, and the peasants in the audience actually accepted the explanation – and the changed circumstances."
"They've accepted it for the moment," Embisson corrected as Edmin's expression changed to one of shock. The matter was highly disturbing, but Embisson's own mind had rallied quickly enough to let him think again. "Once we're back in the city, we can stress how disrespectful it is to change what's been done for so many years. We would also do well, I think, to start a rumor that there really is no such thing as a sixth talent, and the peasants were lied to. There are always a large number of peasants around who are willing to believe the worst about others, and they can rally even more support against the new Seated Blending."
"Lord Embisson, I fear that the matter won't be that easily seen to," Noll said solemnly with another sigh. "There's more involved than I've yet mentioned. The peasants were also told that classes would begin immediately, to train anyone interested in the proper use of his or her talent. Once the training is over, the peasants have been promised that they'll also be taught how to Blend."
"Those people really are fools," Edmin exclaimed, back to looking shocked again. "How do they expect to maintain control – and their position – if everyone can do the same as they? Are they trying to have themselves displaced?"
"Apparently they're trying to do exactly that," Noll agreed, his bewilderment clear. "One of the first things they announced was that their Seating would only be for a year, when new competitions would be held. They maintain that the throne belongs to the strongest Blending, not the first one managing to be Seated, and in a year's time those who want to compete will have had enough practice to do so."
"I don't believe this," Embisson blurted, suddenly delighted. "Lord Sembrin, are you absolutely certain that you've been given correct information? I find it hard to believe that those peasants have actually given us our victory."
"I find that just as hard to believe," Noll commented much too dryly. "I'm absolutely certain of the information I've been given, but I'm afraid I don't see anything of our victory in it."
"Perhaps that's because you haven't considered how much confusion and uncertainty such a stance creates," Embisson told the man with a smile, seeing that Edmin also needed the explanation. "If things in the city were settled and calm, we would have our hands full with trying to take over again. But when furor and confusion reign, it's much more difficult to notice the subtle doings of others. With the very thoughtful help of those peasants, we should be in position to take over again before anyone even knows we're there."
"You're saying that we'll need to move more quickly than we'd originally planned," Edmin concluded aloud with a thoughtful nod. "Yes, I can see that now, and I certainly agree. I'll do all I can to hurry that matter of hiring additional guardsmen."
"There's one area not far from here that you've somehow overlooked, Lord Edmin," Noll informed them, apparently encouraged by what Embisson had said. "It's the settlement called Reed Springs on the other side of Margintown. A band of would-be outlaws and raiders has gathered there, lording it over the immediate environs and supposedly making plans to expand its area of influence. I'm told they mean to take advantage of the confusion in Gan Garee to advance themselves, and I think if they're offered enough gold they'll join our enterprise."
"Then I'll just have to offer them enough gold," Edmin said with the faint smile that told Embisson of his vast amusement. "I appreciate the assistance, Lord Sembrin, and hope you'll continue to supply it whenever you find that I'm … overlooking something."
Noll raised his teacup with a smile that indicated his agreement to do just that, but the air of general amusement was pierced by the appearance of the servant Rachers.
"Your pardon, my lords, but word has just come that your guests are very near," the man announced briskly. "If you would care to prepare yourselves, I'll make certain that
the servants are also notified."
"Yes, do that, Rachers," Edmin ordered, putting aside his teacup and rising from his chair. Edmin had put his and Embisson's masks on the table with the tea service, and now went to fetch them. Noll, on the other hand, had his mask in his inner coat pocket, and now withdrew it after also putting down his teacup. The mask, like the ones brought by Embisson and Edmin, was more than a simple domino. Sewed to its bottom was a length of thick black veil, an addition meant to cover the wearer's entire face. Once again, Embisson meant to take no chances about being recognized.
From the speed with which their guests arrived, Embisson had the impression that they, too, were looking forward to the meal. Rachers showed the four of them into the sitting room without speaking, then withdrew just as silently. Embisson felt relieved that he didn't know any of the four personally, but it was time to begin the meeting.
"We've come to bid you welcome to the area, my lords," Embisson said with a bow after standing. "Would you care to introduce yourselves?"
"I'm Lord Henich Rengan," the man in the lead snapped, his tone more than brusque. "What nonsense is this?"
Henich Rengan was a large man, larger even than Embisson although not as old. Hefty was the best word to describe his appearance, both in body and in face. His body strained the material of his elegant uniform, and his wide and square-jawed face was just short of being florid. Rengan was obviously a man who lived to be in charge, of everything around him and as many as possible of the things that weren't.
"I'm afraid that 'nonsense' isn't the proper word, Lord Henich," Embisson replied, keeping his own voice low and roughening it a bit. "'Precaution' would be more fitting, which is what these masks can be considered. You'll understand more fully when we fill you in on what's been happening. Would you care to introduce your officers as well?"
"Possibly later," Rengan stated, drawing himself up. "Right now I'd like to hear why supposed lords of this empire are hiding their identity from another of the same. And the reason had better be good."
"Nothing about this situation is good," Embisson replied dryly, then gestured to the chairs near his that had been prepared for the visitors. "If you'll take seats, I'll begin the explanation of recent events until lunch is ready. It shouldn't be long before we're able to go to table."
Rengan hesitated an instant, but then he nodded curtly and stomped toward one of the chairs. His officers followed, and Embisson examined them as they passed. The one closest to Rengan was as expressionless as he, clearly the man's next in command. He was a fairly tall man with an air of knowing what he was about, but the other two weren't the same. The first, with light red hair, strolled along as though bored by the proceedings, and the second, with brown hair, moved as though hoping no one would notice him.
"All right, you can begin now," Rengan announced once he and the second man were seated. The other two had only just reached their chairs, but Rengan seemed oblivious – or uncaring. "What are all these not-good happenings that call for your being masked?"
Embisson began a succinct – and carefully edited - description of recent events, and aside from occasional exclamations and muttered curses he wasn't interrupted. He had just completed his summation when Edmin signaled that Rachers had appeared to silently announce lunch, so the High Lord got to his feet.
"While you're digesting what I just told you, we can all begin digesting our meal," Embisson suggested. "If you and your men will follow me, Lord Henich?"
"If I were a softer man, my appetite would be ruined by now," Rengan muttered as he rose more slowly. "It's difficult to understand how the rabble were allowed to get the upper hand."
"For the most part it was due to the actions of those interlopers who were Seated," Embisson explained as he slowly led the way to the dining room. "They stripped the city of guardsmen in an effort to recapture the peasants who were such a threat to them, leaving our peers almost unprotected. When the rabble realized what an advantage they'd been given, they jumped to make the most of it."
"What about the armies of the west?" Rengan's second, who still hadn't been identified, put in with disturbance. "Surely at least one of them could have dealt with the peasants."
"As I said, most of armies sent to Astinda were destroyed by the force the Astindans finally managed to put together," Embisson lied blandly. "But some of the segments of those armies were taken over by the now-Seated peasants, using who-knows-what kind of underhanded methods. You'll have to make sure that the same thing doesn't happen to portions of your own force."
"Those miserable peasants won't get the chance to do the same to my force," Rengan assured Embisson with a growl as he was gestured to the chair at Embisson's right hand. "Are you certain that they won't accompany whatever force they send against us? I want the pleasure of getting my hands on them as soon as possible."
"The reports we've gotten say that the new leaders have told their people they'll be coming against you, but I seriously doubt that they will." Embisson's assurance to the man was filled with his own belief as he took his seat at the table. "Their places on the throne are barely established, so they aren't likely to leave the city and give their enemies a chance to work against them. They'll undoubtedly find a reason at the last minute to send others in their place, others they consider expendable."
"That's disappointing, but not terribly so," Rengan said as he gave his attention to the salad that had just been put in front of him by one of the servants. "Now that I've stopped to think about it, I'll first have the enjoyment of wiping out whatever force they send against me. Then I'll have the very great pleasure of hauling that rabble out of the palace and hanging them beside the gates. Yes, that's definitely the way it will be done."
"And after your victory, it will be our pleasure to show you more lavish hospitality than you now receive," Embisson told him, all but dismissing the fairly lavish meal now being brought out. "Then my associates and I will make for the city first, to prepare the way for you and your forces."
"Excuse me, sir, but there's something I still don't understand," Rengan's second, who wasn't paying quite as much attention to the food, put in. "If you consider our victory so certain, why are you and your servants masked? Being identified as allies of a victorious force should further your cause, not harm it."
"Under other circumstances you would be completely correct," Embisson informed the man without hesitation, having prepared for the question. "We do expect you to be fully victorious, but there have already been too many unexpected twists of fate involved in this matter. If some underhanded trick defeats part of your force and one of you along with it, we'll still be an unknown factor to our enemies. And believe me, we'll do our best to avenge whatever part of your force may be lost – and restore your freedom once Gan Garee is in our hands again."
"Which can't happen too soon to suit me," Rengan muttered around a mouthful of food, pausing in stuffing his face to send Embisson a glare as he also swallowed the excuse. "We'll have a lot of hangings before this is over, so many that the rabble will come to believe that traitors grow on trees. My word on that."
And that was the last of it for the rest of the meal. The food was just as good as Embisson had expected it to be, and he did his own part making it disappear. The army leaders ate so much that Embisson wondered what they were forced to eat on the march, then dismissed the question. The uncertainty of army life, even for its leaders, was such that Embisson had made sure to dissuade Edmin when that worthy had considered asking for a commission. That life had nothing whatsoever to commend it to a true gentleman…
"Well, that's that," Sembrin Noll said once the four men had ridden away from the house again. "And isn't it typical of Lord Henich Rengan not to introduce his companions at all?"
"I've never met the man before," Edmin said as he removed his mask with an expression of relief. "What have you heard about him, Lord Sembrin?"
"Only that he's a complete martinet, and no one is allowed to put himself forward while in the
man's presence," Noll said, also quickly removing his mask. "The only partial exception to that is his son Vodan, the young man who followed him most closely. The others were two of his younger sons, whose names I can't quite recall at the moment."
"So he's made it a family affair," Embisson said, shedding his mask as happily as Edmin had. "I hope that encourages him to do his utmost best against the force the peasants send to confront him. If we have to go to Gan Garee without the backing of his army, we'll be in a less secure position than I care for. Although we'll still most certainly go."
"While we're waiting, we really must decide whether or not to hope for something," Noll said slowly as he gazed at Embisson. "You told Rengan that the Seated peasants would not be coming against them, but that might be an untruth. My agent informed me that there's an excellent chance they would lead their countering force, and that's my dilemma. Where would we rather have the six of them? In Gan Garee when we get there, on hand to counter our moves, or out here, spending all their attention on Rengan's army? I can't quite decide."
Embisson exchanged a glance with Edmin, but that didn't help. He was certain that the Seated peasants would stay in the city, but he couldn't quite decide whether he liked that idea either…
Chapter 14
"Good morning, Tal," Olskin Dinno greeted Zirdon in the rumble usual with the man. Dinno was a High in Earth magic, a large, bulky man with dark hair and light eyes who had supported Zirdon in the assembly for quite some time. He waited for Zirdon beside Zirdon's seat in the assembly room, and the Fire magic user smiled as warmly as possible at his follower.
"Well, it certainly is morning, Dinno," Zirdon agreed, trying to sound less than sourly displeased. "Have you decided yet which side of the issue I've raised that you'll be supporting?"
