“My lord Astapan gave me this, for you,” he said. “If its contents are what I suspect, this should be burned.”
Tegestu looked at Tanta in surprise. “It is not in cipher?” he asked.
“It came by a trustworthy hand,” Tanta said.
Tegestu frowned, not liking the possibility of such a private message coming into unfriendly hands unenciphered, then he realized that the trustworthy hand had been Tanta’s own. He nodded and broke the seal.
Astapan was the Brodaini drandor in Prypas, seventy-eight now, a revered and cunning warrior unable to take the field. Tegestu broke the double seal and flattened the roll of delicate paper, squinting at the delicate writing. Tanta helpfully moved the torch to give Tegestu better light.
“Hail, bro-demmin drandor Tegestu Dellila Doren y’Pranoth,” he read. “Greetings from your cousin, Astapan Hamila Sanda y’Sanda, and from the members of our aldran.
“We send you congratulations, once again, for your victory on the Rallandas and your successful investment of Calacas. May your arm never weaken, and your cunning never fail. We hope our rebel cousin Tastis will continue frustrated in his aims.
“Word has reached our ears of a meeting at a fort on the West Rallandas, and of what may have been spoken there.” Tegestu sucked in his breath in surprise, feeling his anger rise. There was only one way Astapan could have heard of this — through Tastis. Tastis is trying to drive a wedge between us, Tegestu thought as he fought down his anger. Dangling the same bait before each Brodaini drandor, hoping one will snap at it.
“This news, if true, raises possibilities that intrigue us,” the message continued. “If a Brodaini aldran can achieve sovereignty, and can do so without becoming ar-demmin, then other aldrani can but praise them.
“Bro-demmin Tegestu, you are renowned for your sagacity, and all Brodaini in service to the Elva owe you a debt. We believe your actions cannot be without wisdom, and that you will not, like our unwise cousin Tastis, be tempted into rash action that will lose demmin and break hostu. Our aldran pledges to support the decisions of the drandor of Arrandal, and of your aldran; we further pledge to subordinate our forces to you in the area of Neda-Calacas. Our cousin Tanta understands this.
“Hail, cousin Tegestu, may your demmin increase. You have our confidence.”
Aiau, Tegestu thought. He read the message once more, then carefully crumpled it and raised it to the torch, watching as it flared and blackened. The ashes were scuffed into the dirt, broken.
If he chose to accept Tastis’ offer and take command of the city, the Prypas aldran would support him. The consequences were obvious: his actions, and that of Prypas, would signal for a general demand by the exiled Brodaini for establishing Neda-Calacas as the capital of a Brodaini state. If the Elva agreed, fine; if not there would be general revolt. And afterwards a war of extermination, with every man’s hand against the rebels.
If he refused to lead this revolt, would Prypas act unilaterally? The message implied not. He had to find out.
He raised his eyes from the dust, seeing Tanta look at him expectantly, as if awaiting orders. Careful, his mind warned, you cannot let him think you have committed yourself to this. You cannot even imply it.
“May I ask the way in which this rumor came to you?” he asked.
“Under a flag of truce, bro-demmin. We had captured some of Tastis’ people, and they wanted to exchange prisoners. There was a messenger with the party, one of Tastis’ autraldi, dressed in the robes of a priest. I spoke to him privately.”
“I understand,” Tegestu said. He glanced northward, toward the darkness of the enemy city. “Could you favor me with the content of his message, as you remember it?” he asked.
“Aye, bro-demmin, I’ll do my best,” Tanta said. He frowned abstractedly, as if calling the scene to his mind, and then spoke. “I apologize for not remembering his words exactly. There was a prelude concerning how those native to this land cannot treat us with honor, as they are a different people and do not understand us. I treated the idea with the contempt it deserves, and told the man I would hear no more talk of disloyalty. He apologized, and then went on about Tastis’ intentions, to create a city where Brodaini could rule Brodaini and live without misunderstanding.” He spat, then smiled arrogantly. “I told him that though his city might be without misunderstanding, it was also without demmin. He seemed greatly offended. But then he said that Tastis had offered command of the city to you and to your aldran.”
“Did he say I had accepted?” Tegestu asked sharply. Tanta hesitated, then shook his head.
“Nay, bro-demmin. He said only that you had not refused.” Tegestu felt tension ebb from his joints: Tastis had at least told the truth. “I considered that this information, if true, would be of interest to my lord Astapan, so I left the army and posted back to Prypas, where I met with the aldran. I was given this message for you, and then returned to the army.’’
“Why do you think Tastis has invited us to join in his treason, bro-demmin Tanta?” Tegestu asked. “Could it not be to simply divide the forces against him?”
“Tastis is a traitor and a rebel, but even traitors have their uses,” Tanta answered simply. He smiled, showing his teeth. “It does not matter to me when his head rolls, before or after the Brodaini come into their own.”
“We have dependents, bro-demmin,” Tegestu said. “Our main force is here, not in the cities. Any action here could put them in jeopardy.”
“Should there be disturbances in Prypas, my lord Astapan can hold his citadel for a year, at least,” Tanta said. “He is ready to seal himself in at a moment’s notice. Your own quarter in Arrandal is stronger. A year is a long time — a great deal can happen in a year.”
Are you authorized to act on your own? Tegestu wanted to shout. It was clear enough that Tanta found Tastis’ offer tempting, though it was less clear whether the Prypas aldran as a body agreed with him: their message seemed cautious and interested, but no more; and perhaps there was a hint that they trusted Tegestu’s judgment more than Tanta’s. But that was surmise: Tegestu needed to know the truth. How to find out?
“Have you received any more emissaries from Tastis?” he asked.
“Nay, bro-demmin. The Denorru-Deissin of Prypas forbade any prisoner exchanges. They will not give back traitors.”
“Very wise,” Tegestu said. He hesitated a moment, trying to keep his face impassive while he thought furiously: he had to keep Tanta from communicating with Tastis on his own. Tanta seemed to be what his reputation claimed, an intelligent, vigorous, straightforward soldier, not at home in the world of intrigue, and Tastis was too clever — Tanta would be manipulated all too easily by a clever man.
“Bro-demmin welldran Tanta,” he said. “I think it would be inauspicious for any — any communications with Tastis to be conducted from the Prypas camp. I do not wish to slight you in this matter, but Tastis must not be allowed to think he can play us one against the other.”
Tanta nodded, conceding the point easily. “Very well. My aldran has already given you authority in this, to speak on our behalf. Provided of course no demmin is lost — we will do nothing dishonorable.” Tegestu felt relief filling his bones at Tanta’s words, and he nodded.
“May your cunning never fail, bro-demmin Tanta,” he said. “I believe with all my heart that this is wise.”
The Prypas aldran had been more cunning, Tegestu was aware, than Tanta probably realized. On the one hand they conceded negotiating power to Tegestu, but on the other hand their stipulation meant that any resulting dishonor would accrue to Tegestu alone, Astapan having washed his hands of the talks. They were therefore in a position to enjoy the benefit from any dealings with Tastis, while being able to blame Tegestu for any disgrace and even — if the thing went totally wrong— disavowing any of Tegestu’s actions and holding to their old allegiance. Aiau, Tegestu thought, Astapan is brilliant. Unfortunate we have never met face to face.