by Sharon Green
Frode bowed again, then watched Antrie walk away toward the house. For a moment he felt as though he stood in a dream, his most fervent wish about to be fulfilled. But he knew well enough that this was no dream, it was a reality that could be ruined beyond repair by doing the wrong thing. He'd planned to show only the best side of him if he were given the opportunity to do anything at all, but he'd suddenly changed his mind.
"No, Antrie Lorimon deserves to have nothing but the truth," he murmured to himself, staring at the door she'd disappeared through. "If something comes of this, I want it based on what really is, not on pretense and artificiality. Then, if she accepts me, it will be me she's accepting and not some false picture drawn to deceive her."
But, on the other hand, if she rejected him, it would be him she refused, not a convenient fiction. Frode took a deep breath before sitting down again, distantly wondering if cowardice was really all that bad…
Ebro Syant huddled into his rags in the corner of the old building, crouched down so that he would be harder to notice. His previous wealth had been put out of his reach, and the only place he'd been able to find where he could live was this oversized public assistance shack. He'd been assigned a pallet and a thin blanket, and was allowed to join everyone else when the free meals were served.
But the portions served were much too small to satisfy him, and for days he'd walked around with his insides growling. He'd also had most of his few personal possessions stolen while he slept, and he constantly felt filthy - which he was. No one was interested in knowing him, just as they were uninterested in knowing each other. It was against the rules of the place to form small private groups, and no one wanted to be thrown out for breaking a rule.
"But it's the best possible hiding place for me," Ebro whispered to himself, just as he'd done so often during the past days. "I'm free to make my plans without interruption, and none of my enemies knows my location. And I just have to put up with this for a short while. Once my plans have started to work, I'll be able to live like a human being again."
Ebro believed that fervently, and it was the only thing keeping him sane. The large building stank with an odor that the slap-dash cleaning of its inhabitants never got rid of. Some of the human trash living in the building were bullies, and would waylay those smaller than them and take whatever coppers those smaller people had managed to beg during the day. Ebro refused to beg, so at least he was spared that…
A growling came to Ebro's thoughts when the subject of begging arose. Before coming to that public shelter he'd gone to his parents, knowing that once he was part of their household again he'd be dismissed by his enemies as being out of the game entirely. He could have lived like a human being there while he planned, but his parents had chosen to lie rather than help.
"I'm sorry, Ebro, but I just can't afford to support you as well as myself and your mother," his father had said stiffly once he understood why Ebro had come. "Life has been really hard for us, and we're only just managing to make ends meet. Besides, everyone knows about what you did. If we took you in they would all turn their backs on us, and I would never rebuild my business. No, don't beg. That won't make me change my mind."
And then the fool had simply closed the door in Ebro's face, giving his son no time to point out that he'd been about to mention the help he'd supplied. Begging had never even entered Ebro's thoughts, but now he had to live with the humiliation suggested by an old fool he should have destroyed completely rather than toyed with. He'd left his family alive on the faint chance that he might need them again at some time. Fat lot of good they'd done when he had needed them…
Ebro stirred where he crouched, then rose stiffly to his feet. Everyone who had returned for the midday meal had now left again, so it was time for him to go as well. He wanted to pay his tool a visit, and get the first of his plans set in motion. He would have preferred to visit Tal at night, using darkness to cover his presence, but the shelter had a curfew. Anyone who wasn't in by the curfew was refused admittance the next time they showed up. That was to keep the shelter from housing burglars, supposedly, but Ebro knew in his heart that they were just trying to make things harder for him.
As if they could keep him from exacting revenge. Ebro snorted his disdain as he made his quiet way out of the shelter, knowing no one could stop him. He would see Cleemor Gardan and Antrie Lorimon crushed, he would make Zirdon Tal his puppet, and then he would turn his attention to everyone else in the empire of Gracely. They would know the same misery he had been forced to endure, and he would make them live with it.
But the same wouldn't be done to his parents, oh, no. Ebro smiled as he thought of his plans for his parents, plans that would bring him much more pleasure than simply destroying them. He would see to it that his father's business grew and prospered, even while his parents' neighbors began to have less and less. Those friends and neighbors his father had been so concerned about would grow to hate his father for having what they didn't, and then his father's business would falter for lack of patronage…
Enjoyable thoughts occupied Ebro as he made his way on foot to Tal's house. He would have preferred going in a coach or carriage, but he'd decided that he wouldn't have used a conveyance even if he'd had the silver with which to pay for it. Tal was his secret weapon, and one took pains to keep a secret weapon secret.
When Ebro reached Tal's house, he nearly went to the front door. His sense of dignity wanted him to use the front door, but his sense of caution knew better. So he made his way around to the servants' entrance instead, and when a servant appeared, Ebro's dignity was served very well indeed. The servant bowed nervously when he learned who was calling, and quickly ushered Ebro inside.
There was a very short delay during which time Ebro was offered a cup of tea and some sweet bread, an offer he quickly accepted. The delay lasted only until Ebro finished the refreshments, and then he was led to the door of Tal's lounge. An answering bell-ring brought Ebro into Tal's presence, and the bigger man smiled when he saw who had come calling. Ebro wasn't surprised to see that Tal had obviously reconciled himself to the situation; Tal was an idiot, and idiots had the ability to talk themselves into accepting just about anything.
"You may leave us," Tal said to his servants, who bowed with respect and departed at once. When they were gone, Tal smiled at Ebro again. "I've been looking forward to this visit from you. Your plans are all formulated?"
"Indeed they are," Ebro agreed, walking to a chair and sitting. The chair was marvelously comfortable, and Ebro wallowed in the memory of what it was like to live normally.
"So what are we going to do first?" Tal asked, clearly eager to begin. "Will there be terrible accidents to befall Gardan and Lorimon, I hope?"
"You really must learn the proper way of doing things," Ebro told the fool with a sigh. "Simply killing your enemies puts them out of their misery much too quickly. What you want to do is make them suffer for as long as possible before you rid yourself of their presence. Gardan and Lorimon have made themselves leaders of the assembly. That position is just fine as long as there isn't any trouble to disturb people. If there is trouble and the assembly leaders don't do anything to stop it, their position becomes a good deal less enviable."
"Why won't they do anything to stop it?" Tal asked, the interest in his eyes having grown. "They aren't fools, after all, so keeping things peaceful should be their first concern."
"There are two reasons why they might fail to stop trouble," Ebro answered, distantly surprised at the patience he showed. "One reason is, of course, that they aren't able to stop it. Under those circumstances, their inability would be publicized and stressed."
"And the second reason?" Tal said, leaning forward in his chair as though taking mental notes.
"The second reason for their failure would be that success isn't in their best interests," Ebro supplied. "If stopping the trouble would cause even greater trouble, they would have to look for another way out of the problem. Under those circumstances, the greater
trouble would be played down or completely ignored when their lack of action was brought in front of the people."
"But what if they countered with an explanation of what could happen?" Tal put next. "That would make the one accusing them look like he didn't care about what happened to everyone."
"Not if the one accusing them claimed they were just making excuses for their lack of ability to handle the problem," Ebro pointed out. "People don't want to hear excuses from their leaders, they want definite action. And if the one accusing them then came up with a plan of action that took care of the problem, how much of a following would the former leaders have left?"
"Very little if any at all," Tal agreed with evident satisfaction. "Yes, I definitely like the way you think, Syant. So what do we do first?"
"First you put together a large amount of gold," Ebro instructed, ticking things off on his mental list. "Then you find someone to act as your intermediary, and use your Blending to put him under control. That way you won't have to worry about his betraying you no matter what happens. Your Blending members will support you in that, won't they? Do they have enough ambition to want to join you as leaders of the empire?"
"Yes, they certainly do have the proper ambition," Tal all but purred, his enjoyment almost palpable. "If I become supreme leader of the empire, they'll join me in that position. So what do I have the intermediary do?"
"You have him do all the dirtywork," Ebro said, distantly wishing he had another cup of tea. "He hires the thugs who will cause the trouble, he gives them their instructions, and he sees to getting rid of them when their usefulness is over. Your own hands are completely clean, and no one should be able to even suspect a connection, let alone prove one."
"I do like the sound of that," Tal said, leaning back and sipping from his own teacup. "But what kind of trouble can we make that will cause the most difficulty for Gardan and Lorimon?"
"We can have the honored guests Gardan and Lorimon expect attacked and killed," Ebro answered, the pleasure of the thought suffusing him. "That Seated Blending from Gandistra will be here soon, and our enemies want to make peace with those people. Our great leaders are fools who don't understand that getting rid of their new Seated Blending will throw Gandistra into a turmoil. We can take their empire over while confusion reigns, and then we'll never have to worry about those people again."
"But where does causing trouble for Gardan and Lorimon come in?" Tal asked, now looking confused. "I don't understand how the attack you mentioned will reflect badly on them."
"Once the visitors have been killed, you'll accuse Gardan and Lorimon of carelessly letting it happen," Ebro said, again distantly surprised at his patience. "You'll point out that those two were in charge, and their carelessness has put us all in very great danger. You'll tell everyone that the only thing we can do is attack Gandistra at once before their armies come to take revenge. Gardan and Lorimon still won't want to start the war, their sort never changes a stance like that. That's when you'll accuse them of working against the interests of Gracely, and the common fool in the street will be too frightened at the thought of being attacked to doubt the accusation. Everyone will back your demand for our empire to attack first, and our enemies will be out in the cold."
"You know, I would never have been able to think of something like that," Tal said, his expression having changed to one of admiration. "You do have an incredibly complex mind, and I'm delighted that we're working together. I'll get started at once with finding that intermediary, and I want you to tell my chief servant where you can be reached. I'll want to consult with you about my various moves before I make them. For the moment, though, you may go."
"Certainly," Ebro agreed, getting out of the chair to go immediately to the door. A servant waited just outside, and after Ebro told the man where he could be reached, the servant led him to the same side door he'd used to enter the house.
Ebro was half way back to the shelter before he remembered that he'd meant to have Tal feed him a proper meal. He didn't know how he could have forgotten something he'd so looked forward to, but for some reason it no longer seemed to matter. His only interest now was in giving Tal all the information he needed to make the plan work…
It was still fairly early in the afternoon, but Ebro didn't notice the pretty weather of the day. His mind insisted on wondering why he hadn't mentioned to Tal the fact that war with Gandistra would be no easy win for Gracely. Ebro wanted the people of Gracely to suffer, and so he'd made his plans with that end in mind.
"Maybe I didn't tell him because he didn't ask," Ebro muttered to himself as he walked, an answer that seemed to quiet the wondering. "Yes, that has to be it."
Figuring that out pleased Ebro, and he was able to return to the shelter with new-found peace of mind. Everything was working out perfectly, and soon Tal would be supreme leader of the empire of Gracely. Of course, there would be very little of Gracely left for Tal to be supreme leader of, but that didn't matter. Tal liked Ebro's plans, and that was all that really mattered to Ebro…
As soon as the fat little slug was gone, Zirdon Tal called in his servants and had them take out and clean the chair Syant had used. The slug was no longer as fat as he'd been, but now Syant was filthy which Zirdon considered to be a good deal worse.
"But the fool's mind is as brilliant as ever," Zirdon murmured to himself, smiling as he remembered the plans he'd been given. "I may not be brilliant in the same way, but I do have my own strengths."
And one of those strengths was in knowing how to use people. Zirdon had left orders to be told at once when Syant appeared, and then the man was to be delayed for a short while. During that short while Zirdon had used his Blending to put Syant under his control, and now the little slug was his, body and brilliance. Syant would also find it impossible to tell anyone about what Zirdon had done with Sheedra Kam, solving the problem without having to give up Syant's tactical ability.
"And the best part of all this is that my Blending members are completely behind me," Zirdon murmured again with pleasure. "They're just as ambitious as I am, and together we'll rule this empire for as long as we live."
Zirdon thrilled to that idea again, and then rang for one of his servants. He would celebrate with the best wine in his cellars, shared happily with his Blendingmates. The plan Syant had given him would work perfectly, and as soon as the celebration was over he would start to implement it. The first step, so to speak, on the way to meeting his destiny.
Zirdon actually hummed a tune as he waited for the wine to be brought.
Chapter 27
It took quite a long time for us to get started on our way to Gracely. Using our own Blending along with the others, we combed the area to locate the hiding members of the former nobility. Of course they didn't consider themselves former nobles, so when we began to round them up we were almost deafened by demands and complaints.
For the most part, the servants were delighted to hear about the changed circumstances in Gan Garee. Some, however, usually those with privileges above the other servants, were almost as outraged as the former nobles. They also tried to argue, but not for long. Most of those upper class servants met with … accidents, courtesy of the people they'd been pushing around for so long.
The former members of the army spent their time healing and growing stronger while we were ingathering. When we were ready to send everyone back to Gan Garee, a large number of the former army slaves volunteered to help herd the former nobles along. All that talk of former this and former that was confusing at times, but once they were all on their way - with the Astindans to help - the confusion was behind us.
When we finally took to the road we split up into two groups again, which made moving, camping, and hunting much easier. The days passed quietly and uneventfully for the most part, except for the time we found that a group of outlaws had taken over a small town. We Blended and took control of the outlaws, then rode in and let the townspeople know that they were free again. Right after that we left the to
wn, to spare ourselves the sight of what the people did to the outlaws.
"You look preoccupied, Tamma," Jovvi said as she moved her mount up beside mine once the town was behind us. "Are you thinking about what's being done to those outlaws right now?"
"Not really," I answered with a sigh as I withdrew from my thoughts. "Those outlaws did a lot of ugly things to those people in the town, making no effort to control themselves because they thought they could get away with it all. Now they're learning better, just the way the nobles are learning the same lesson. If you do it, you'd better be prepared to pay for it. What I was really thinking about was how soon our message will reach our people in Gan Garee."
"The two guardsmen carrying the message will move as fast as they can without killing their horses," Jovvi assured me, but she sounded more assured than she looked. "If you're wishing that we could be there to handle whatever that Ruhl man intends to do, I can only say I share that wish. I know the people we left behind are good, but I still wish we could be there to help."
"I don't exactly have a bad feeling about what will happen, but it isn't a good feeling either," I confessed, wondering if she happened to be experiencing the same thing. "I'd love to think that we're wasting our time going to Gracely and start to agitate for turning back, but for some reason I can't. It's another feeling I can't explain, and I'm getting very tired of wrestling with it all."
"For the second time, I know exactly how you feel," Jovvi said with a small, humorless laugh. "I've been getting those same impressions ever since we Blended near that town, when - Oh, rot!"
"Do I take that comment to mean that you experienced what Lorand and I have, but also forgot to mention it?" I asked dryly, enjoying her expression of frustration. "Now there are three things we can feel the same about."
"I don't understand how I could have forgotten to mention something that important," Jovvi grumbled, her annoyance directed at herself. "I thought you and Lorand were just distracted when it happened to you, but this isn't simple distraction. It is like forgetting to mention that you're breathing in and out, an action so natural that you take it for granted. But when you stop to think about it, what happened is amazing."
