Enchanters' End Game

by David Eddings

Colonel Brendig was awaiting her. Upon reflection, Ce’Nedra concluded that Colonel Brendig was by far the most practical man she had ever met. No detail was too small for him. In a lesser man, such concern with little things might have been passed off as mere fussiness, but the colonel’s belief that big things were made up of little things gave his patient attention to detail a certain dignity. He seemed to be everywhere in the camp; in his wake, tent-ropes were tightened, cluttered heaps of equipment were arranged into neat stacks, and casually open doublets were quickly buttoned up.

  ‘I hope that her Majesty found her ride refreshing,’ the colonel said politely, bowing as Ce’Nedra entered the room.

  ‘Thank you, Colonel Brendig,’ the princess replied. ‘My Majesty did.’ She was in a whimsical frame of mind, and it was always a delight to tease this sober-faced Sendar.

  A brief smile touched Brendig’s lips, and then he immediately got down to the business of the midday report. ‘I’m pleased to advise your Majesty that the Drasnian engineers have nearly completed the hoists atop the escarpment,’ he reported. ‘All that remains is the rigging of the counterweights which will help to lift the Cherek warships.’

  ‘That’s nice,’ Ce’Nedra said with the vacant, empty-headed smile she knew drove him absolutely wild.

  Brendig’s jaw tightened slightly, but his face betrayed no other sign of his momentary flash of irritation. ‘The Chereks are beginning to remove the masts and rigging from their ships in preparation for the portage,’ he continued, ‘and the fortified positions up on top of the escarpment are several days ahead of schedule.’

  ‘How wonderful!’ Ce’Nedra exclaimed, clapping her hands with a great show of girlish delight.

  ‘Your Majesty, please,’ Brendig complained.

  ‘I’m sorry, Colonel Brendig,’ Ce’Nedra apologized, affectionately patting his hand. ‘For some reason you bring out the very worst in me. Don’t you ever smile?’

  He looked at her with an absolutely straight face. ‘I am smiling, your Majesty,’ he said. ‘Oh – you have a visitor from Tolnedra.’

  ‘A visitor? Who?’

  ‘A General Varana, the Duke of Anadile.’

  ‘Varana? Here? What on earth is he doing in Algaria? Is he alone?’

  ‘There are a number of other Tolnedran gentlemen with him,’ Brendig replied. ‘They aren’t in uniform, but they have the general bearing of military men. They say that they’re here as private observers. General Varana expressed a desire to pay his respects whenever it might be convenient.’

  ‘Of course, Colonel Brendig,’ Ce’Nedra said with an enthusiasm that was no longer feigned. ‘Please send for him at once.’

  Ce’Nedra had known General Varana since her earliest childhood. He was a stocky man with graying, curly hair and a stiff left knee that gave him a noticeable limp. He was blessed with that wry, understated sense of humor so characteristic of the Anadilian family. Of all the noble houses of Tolnedra, the Borunes were most comfortable with the Anadiles. Both families were southern, for one thing, and the Anadiles usually sided with the Borunes in disputes with the powerful families of the north. Although Anadile was only a duchy, there had never been any hint of subservience in the family’s alliances with the Grand Dukes of the House of Borune. Indeed, Anadilian dukes, more often than not, poked gentle fun at their more powerful neighbors. Serious historians and statesmen had long considered it a misfortune for the Empire that the talented House of Anadile had not enough wealth to make a serious bid for the Imperial Throne.

  When General Varana politely limped into the room where Ce’Nedra impatiently awaited him, there was a faint smile hovering on his lips and a quizzical lift to one of his eyebrows. ‘Your Majesty,’ he greeted her with a bow.

  ‘Uncle Varana,’ the princess exclaimed, flying to embrace him. Varana was not, in fact, her uncle, but she had always thought of him as such.

  ‘What have you gone and done now, my little Ce’Nedra?’ He laughed, enfolding her in his thick-muscled arms. ‘You’re turning the world upside-down, you know. What’s a Borune doing in the middle of Algaria with an Alorn army at her back?’

  ‘I’m going to invade Mishrak ac Thull,’ she declared impishly.

  ‘Really? Whatever for? Did King Gethell of Thulldom insult the House of Borune in some way? I hadn’t heard about it.’

  ‘It’s an Alorn matter,’ Ce’Nedra replied airily.

  ‘Oh, I see. That explains it, I suppose. Alorns don’t need reasons for the things they do.’

  ‘You’re laughing at me,’ she accused him.

  ‘Of course I am, Ce’Nedra. The Anadiles have been laughing at the Borunes for thousands of years.’

  She pouted. ‘It’s very serious, Uncle Varana.’

  ‘Naturally it is,’ he agreed, gently touching her out-thrust lower lip with one thick finger, ‘but that’s no reason not to laugh about it.’

  ‘You’re impossible,’ Ce’Nedra said helplessly, laughing in spite of herself. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Observing,’ he told her. ‘Generals do that a lot. You’ve got the only war that’s going on just now, so several of us thought we’d drop by and have a look. Morin suggested it.’

  ‘My father’s chamberlain?’

  ‘I think that’s his function, yes.’

  ‘Morin wouldn’t do that – not on his own.’

  ‘Really? What astonishing news.’

  Ce’Nedra frowned, nibbling absently at a lock of her hair. Varana reached out and took the lock out from between her teeth. ‘Morin doesn’t do anything unless my father tells him to,’ Ce’Nedra mused, once again lifting the curl to her lips.

  Varana took the lock out of her fingers again.

  ‘Don’t do that,’ she told him.

  ‘Why not? That’s the way I broke you of sucking your thumb.’

  ‘This is different. I’m thinking.’

  ‘Think with your mouth closed.’

  ‘This was my father’s idea, wasn’t it?’

  ‘I wouldn’t presume to say I knew the Emperor’s mind,’ he replied.

  ‘Well, I would. What’s that old fox up to?’

  ‘That’s hardly respectful, child.’

  ‘You say you’re here to observe?’

  He nodded.

  ‘And perhaps make a few suggestions?’

  He shrugged. ‘If anyone cares to listen. I’m not here officially, you understand. Imperial policy forbids that. Your claim to the Rivan throne is not formally recognized in Tol Honeth.’

  She cast a sidelong glance at him through her thick eyelashes. ‘These suggestions you might make – if you happened to be near a Tolnedran legion that seemed to need a bit of direction, is it at all possible that one of these suggestions might be “forward march?”’

  ‘That situation might arise, yes,’ he admitted gravely.

  ‘And you have a number of other officers of the general staff with you?’

  ‘I think several of them do, in fact, serve occasionally on that body.’ His eyes were twinkling with suppressed mirth.

  Ce’Nedra lifted the lock again, and General Varana took it away from her once more.

  ‘How would you like to meet King Rhodar of Drasnia?’ she asked him.

  ‘I’d be honored to meet his Majesty.’

  ‘Why don’t we go to see him, then?’

  ‘Why don’t we?’

  ‘Oh, I love you, Uncle.’ She laughed, throwing her arms about him again.

  They found King Rhodar in conference with the other leaders of the army in a large airy chamber King Cho-Hag had set aside for their use. There was no longer any pretence of formality among the leaders of the army, and most of them sprawled in comfortable horsehide chairs, watching as the crimson-robed Rhodar measured off distances with a piece of string on a large map that covered one entire wall. ‘It doesn’t really seem all that far to me,’ he was saying to King Cho-Hag.

  ‘That’s because your map is flat, Rhodar,’ Cho-Hag replied. ‘The country’s very
hilly through there. Believe me, it will take three days.’

  King Rhodar made an indelicate sound of disgust. ‘I guess we’ll have to give up the idea, then. I’d like to burn out those forts, but I’m not going to start ordering suicide missions. Three days’ ride is just too far.’

  ‘Your Majesty,’ Ce’Nedra said politely.

  ‘Yes, child?’ Rhodar was still frowning at the map.

  ‘I’d like for you to meet someone.’

  King Rhodar turned.

  ‘Your Majesty,’ Ce’Nedra said formally, ‘may I present his Grace, the Duke of Anadile? General Varana, his Majesty, King Rhodar of Drasnia.’

  The two men bowed politely to each other, their eyes probing, assessing.

  ‘The general’s reputation precedes him,’ King Rhodar noted.

  ‘But his Majesty’s skill as a military man has been kept a secret,’ Varana replied.

  ‘Do you think that satisfies the demands of courtesy?’ Rhodar asked.

  ‘If not, we can both lie a little bit later on about how excruciatingly polite we were to each other,’ Varana suggested.

  King Rhodar flashed him a quick grin. ‘All right, what’s Tolnedra’s leading tactician doing in Algaria?’

  ‘Observing, your Majesty.’

  ‘You’re going to stick to that story?’

  ‘Naturally. For political reasons, Tolnedra must maintain a neutral posture in this affair. I’m certain that Drasnian intelligence has briefed your Majesty on the realities of the situation. The five spies you have in the Imperial palace are thoroughly professional.’

  ‘Six, actually,’ King Rhodar noted in passing.

  General Varana raised one eyebrow. ‘I suppose we should have known,’ he said.

  ‘It changes from time to time,’ Rhodar shrugged. ‘You know our strategic situation?’

  ‘I’ve been filled in, yes.’

  ‘What’s your assessment – as an observer?’

  ‘You’re in trouble.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Rhodar said dryly.

  ‘The numbers dictate that you take a defensive posture.’

  Rhodar shook his head. ‘That might work if all we had to worry about was Taur Urgas and the Southern Murgos, but ‘Zakath is landing more troops at Thull Zelik every day. If we fortify and try to sit tight, and he decides to move against us, he’ll be able to bury us in Malloreans by autumn. The key to the whole situation is putting Anheg’s fleet into the Sea of the East to stop those troop ships. We’re going to have to gamble a bit in order to pull that off.’

  Varana studied the map. ‘If you’re going to go down the River Mardu, you’ll have to neutralize the Thullish capital,’ he said, pointing at Thull Mardu. ‘It’s an island – like Tol Honeth – and it’s right in the middle of the river. You’ll never get a fleet past it as long as a hostile force holds it. You’ll have to take the city.’

  ‘That had already occurred to us,’ King Anheg said from where he sprawled in his chair with his ever-present ale cup in his hand.

  ‘You know Anheg?’ Rhodar asked the general.

  Varana nodded. ‘By reputation,’ he replied. He bowed to King Anheg. ‘Your Majesty,’ he said.

  ‘General,’ Anheg responded, inclining his head.

  ‘If Thull Mardu is heavily defended, it will cost you a third of your army to take it,’ Varana continued.

  ‘We’re going to lure the garrison out,’ Rhodar told him.

  ‘How?’

  ‘That’s going to be up to Korodullin and me,’ King Cho-Hag said quietly. ‘Once we get to the top of the escarpment, the Mimbrate knights are going to move out and crush every city and town in the uplands, and my clansmen will strike down into the farming regions to burn every standing crop.’

  ‘They’ll realize that’s only a diversion, your Majesty,’ Varana pointed out.

  ‘Naturally,’ Brand agreed in his rumbling voice, ‘but a diversion from what? We don’t think they’ll fully realize that Thull Mardu is our main objective. We’ll try our best to make our depredations as general as possible. The loss of those towns and crops might be acceptable at first, but it won’t be long before they’ll have to take steps to protect them.’

  ‘And you think they’ll pull the garrison out of Thull Mardu to meet you?’

  ‘That’s the idea,’ King Rhodar replied.

  Varana shook his head. ‘They’ll bring Murgos up from Rak Goska and Malloreans from Thull Zelik. Then instead of a quick raid on Thull Mardu, you’ll have a general war on your hands.’

  ‘That’s what you’d do, General Varana,’ King Rhodar disagreed, ‘but you aren’t ‘Zakath or Taur Urgas. Our strategy’s based on our assessment of those two men. Neither of them will commit his forces unless he’s convinced that we pose a major threat. Each of them wants to save as much of his army as possible. In their view, we’re only an incidental annoyance – and an excuse to put an army into the field. For them, the real war starts when they attack each other. Each of them will hold back, and King Gethell of the Thulls will have to meet us on his own with only token support from the Murgos and the Malloreans. If we move fast enough, we’ll have Anheg’s fleet into the Sea of the East and all our troops pulled back to the escarpment before they realize what we’re up to.’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘And then Taur Urgas will stay in Rak Goska as if his foot were nailed to the floor.’ King Anheg chuckled. ‘I’ll be in the Sea of the East drowning Malloreans by the shipload, and he’ll be cheering me on every step of the way.’

  ‘And ‘Zakath won’t dare risk those troops he already has at Thull Zelik by moving against us,’ Brand added. ‘If he loses too many men, Taur Urgas will have the upper hand.’

  General Varana considered that. ‘A three-way deadlock, then,’ he mused. ‘Three armies in the same region, and not one of them willing to move.’

  ‘The very best kind of war.’ King Rhodar grinned. ‘Nobody gets hurt.’

  ‘Tactically, your only problem is gauging the severity of your raids before you attack Thull Mandu,’ Varana noted. ‘They’ll have to be serious enough to pull the garrison out of the city, but not so serious as to alarm ‘Zakath or Taur Urgas. That’s a very fine line to walk, gentlemen.’

  Rhodar nodded. ‘That’s why we’re so delighted to have Tolnedra’s foremost tactician here to advise us,’ he said, bowing floridly.

  ‘Please, your Majesty,’ General Varana interposed, lifting one hand. ‘Suggest, not advise. An observer can only suggest. The term advice implies partisanship that is not in line with the Empire’s position of strict neutrality.’

  ‘Ah,’ King Rhodar said. He turned to King Cho-Hag. ‘We must make arrangements for the comfort of the Imperial suggester and his staff,’ he declared with a broad grin.

  Ce’Nedra watched with secret delight as these two brilliant men began what was obviously going to be a firm friendship. ‘I’ll leave you gentlemen to your entertainments,’ she told them. ‘Military discussions give me a headache, so I’ll rely on you not to get me in trouble.’ She curtsied to them with a winsome little smile and withdrew.

  Two days later, Relg arrived from Ulgoland with the contingent of his leaf-mailed countrymen sent by the Gorim. Taiba, who had hovered silently in the background since the army had arrived at the Stronghold, joined Ce’Nedra and Lady Polgara to greet the Ulgos as the wagons which carried them creaked up the hill toward the main gate. The beautiful Marag woman wore a plain, even severe, linen dress, but her violet eyes were glowing. Relg, his cowled leaf-mail shirt covering his head and shoulders like lizard skin, climbed down from the lead wagon and only perfunctorily answered the greetings of Barak and Mandorallen. His large eyes searched the group gathered at the gate until they found Taiba, and then a kind of tension seemed to go out of him. Without speaking, he walked toward her. Their meeting was silent, and they did not touch, though Taiba’s hand moved involuntarily toward him several times. They stood in the golden sunlight with their eyes lost in each other’s faces, drawing a
bout them a profound kind of privacy that absolutely ignored the presence of others. Taiba’s eyes remained constantly on Relg’s face, but there was in them nothing of that vacant, placid adoration that filled Ariana’s eyes when she looked at Lelldorin. There was rather a question – even a challenge. Relg’s answering look was the troubled gaze of a man torn between two overpowering compulsions. Ce’Nedra watched them for a few moments, but was finally forced to avert her eyes.

  The Ulgos were quartered in dim, cavernous rooms built into the foundations of the Stronghold where Relg could lead his countrymen through the painful process of adjusting their eyes to the light of day and training them to ignore the unreasoning panic which assailed all Ulgos when they were exposed to the open sky.

  That evening another smaller contingent arrived from the south. Three men, two in white robes and one in filthy rags, appeared at the gate demanding entrance. The Algars at the gate admitted them immediately, and one guard was sent to Lady Polgara’s candlelit apartment to inform her of their arrival.

  ‘You’d better bring them here,’ she advised the poor man, who was ashen-faced and trembling. ‘They haven’t been in the company of other men for a very long time, and crowds might make them nervous.’

  ‘At once, Lady Polgara,’ the shaking Algar said, bowing. He hesitated for a moment. ‘Would he really do that to me?’ he blurted.

  ‘Would who do what to you?’

  ‘The ugly one. He said that he was going to—’ The man stopped, suddenly realizing to whom he was speaking. His face turned red. ‘I don’t think I should repeat what he said, Lady Polgara – but it was an awful thing to threaten a man with.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I believe I know what you mean. It’s one of his favorite expressions. I think you’re safe. He only says that to get people’s attention. I’m not even sure you can do it to somebody and keep him alive at the same time.’

  ‘I’ll bring them at once, Lady Polgara.’

  The sorceress turned to look at Ce’Nedra, Adara, and Ariana, who had joined her for supper. ‘Ladies,’ she said gravely, ‘we’re about to have guests. Two of them are the sweetest men in the world, but the third is a bit uncontrolled in his use of language. If you’re at all sensitive about such things, you’d better leave.’