“Please understand this,” Tegestu said. “My not giving Tastis an answer was a tactic — I wanted him to continue hoping that I would defect, so that he would not oppose our march to the city. That was all. I could not see a way to accept his proposal without becoming ar-demmin.” He looked carefully into Tanta’s face, seeing an impassive frown there.
“If you say so, bro-demmin,” Tanta said. His tone seemed dubious.
“My cousin Tastis has disgraced my kamliss once, bro-demmin Tanta,” Tegestu went on. “I will take no further action that will bring infamy to my family name.”
“Aye, bro-demmin,” Tanta said, his tone as before.
I have told the truth, Tegestu thought hopelessly, but he does not believe. What more can I do? Aiau, it is Tanta’s fate not to believe the truth when it is given him. His fate and my misfortune.
“Come, bro-demmin,” Tegestu said. “Let us watch the river again, and soothe our souls after this irritating discussion of treason and traitors. Afterwards, if you find it interesting, there are some actors who would be honored should you consent to view their drama. They beg permission to perform Aspistu of the Drandor Sanda, if it pleases you.”
That was the Sanda family drama; Tanta grunted with gratified surprise. “I would find that interesting, yes,” he said. “I’m sure I will be well pleased.”
Throughout the moment of silence as they watched the river and the tiring walk back to the camp that left him breathless and praying for release from the heavy steel armor, Tegestu’s mind churned with plans proposed and rejected. How to take advantage of this? A siege was a fact, a long and dreary fact, as solid as a stone set well in mortar; but Tastis and his attempt at conspiracy had added a certain liquidity to the situation: there was an uncertainty now, perhaps an advantage to be gained. But how to seize it?
The play was classic in style, partly in mime, partly in poetry, partly in verse chanted to music. The story told of the drandor Sanda — one of Tanta’s remote ancestors — who had been told by enemy lords, abetted by evil courtiers in his own household, of his wife’s infidelity. Not entirely convinced, he put his wife to a number of imaginative and excruciating tests that convinced him of her devotion, and then, in a model act of aspistu, arranged to catch his enemies in a trap they had themselves set for the wife. At the end of the play the conspirators were tortured to death offstage, their eerie screams blending musically with the songs of adoration chanted by the happy, faithful couple.
Moral tension was provided less by the convolutions of plot than by the drandor’s soliloquies, who throughout debated with himself the parts he was forced to play — he had to assume the role of a man who believed in his wife’s adultery, convincing even she, while secretly laying his traps for the lying enemies. Should a lord, a successful general renowned for his truthfulness, play such a deceptive role, flattering and praising his enemies for their sagacity and wisdom in order to lure them into revealing themselves, or should he act as straightforwardly as his instincts demanded, and lead the nation to open war to avenge the suspected insult to his house?
It was after the denunciation, while the wailing conspirators were led away to the torturers, that Tegestu realized with a start his opportunity. He glanced self-consciously at Tanta in the place of honor, hoping the man hadn’t seen his sudden inspiration. For the plan would betray Tanta and his house, leaving them open to the avengers of the Elva, and there would be more betrayals on top of that... and a betrayal of honor as well? Tegestu fervently hoped not.
He turned his eyes deliberately back to the play, shading them in order to hide the flare of triumph he felt rising in him. Amasta is here, he thought, Amasta the cunning and ruthless; and she will understand what I tell her. But there must be an instrument... .
He was exhausted following the play, the formal armor weighing him down, and it must have shown on his face, for Tanta, after praising the interpretation, bowed and after more compliments, withdrew with his party. Tegestu in turn complimented his own people on a hospitality worthy of their guest’s status, and before they dispersed he took Cascan’s arm. “A private meeting with you, ban-demmin,” he said. “In an hour. Meet me at my tent.”
“Aye, bro-demmin,” Cascan said, his slitted eyes expressionless, and he bowed.
Grendis took his arm and they walked in silence to their tent, Tegestu leaning on her more than he would have wished. Cascan was such a perfect lord of spies, Tegestu thought as he walked. Such a perfect holder of secrets. His kamliss was too small to seize power; he must ever be a loyal follower, not a leader, for his status depended entirely on Pranoth favor: to use his knowledge against Pranoth would only be to insure his own fall from power.
Tegestu let his servants strip the heavy armor from him; then he called for tea and the masseurs. His weary body must be made ready for the meeting with Cascan, and the tea would insure alertness. Secret things had to be accomplished tonight.
When, after his massage and refreshment, he called for his light armor, Grendis’ eyes widened in surprise.
“I will not be long, love,” he said. “There is a piece of business that cannot wait.” Her eyes filling with care, she asked if she could accompany him; he shook his head. “It will only be a matter of a few moments,” he said as Thesau strapped the leather undercoat to him. “Rest easy.”
Cascan was seated patiently outside the tent when he came out. “This way,” he said, bowing. “My people have secured a place where we can talk.”
It was not far, fortunately: even the light leather-and-chain was an unwelcome weight. In the center of a hundred-yard-diameter circle of bowmen, Cascan glanced at the disposition of his men with a critical eye, and then turned to Tegestu.
“How may I be of service, bro-demmin Tegestu?” he asked with a brief bow.
“I need a man for secret business, Cascan,” Tegestu said. “He must be intelligent and discreet, preferably someone who has been attached at one time or another to an embassy, or who is familiar with diplomacy. He must be reliable and able to operate on his own, on a mission of the utmost importance. He must have a good memory, to carry information in his head. And he must be expendable — for he must die at the end of his mission, to protect the honor of our aldran.”
Cascan considered for a few moments, then knelt, bowing his head. “I beg to be allowed to undertake this mission myself, bro-demmin, if you consider me worthy.”
Tegestu felt his lips tighten in a smile: Aiau, what tigers the Tosta bred! “I must forbid it, bro-demmin,” he said, pleased. “I shall need you for some time yet. Pick another man.”
“Very well, bro-demmin,” Cascan said, rising, his eyes still downcast. “May I have a few hours to consider the choice?”
“Aye. But isolate the man once you’ve chosen him. Put him in a tent apart — put him in quarantine, say he’s got a contagious disease. No one but myself must be allowed to speak with him.’’
“Aye, bro-demmin.”
“He’ll have to be provided with passwords to get him through the lines. And the poison must always be ready — it would be best if you told him the mission was hazardous, and he should have his will made out and his death wishes recorded ahead of time, in case his death must be sudden.”
“Aye, bro-demmin.”
Cascan’s face was shadowed by darkness, but the shadows could not entirely disguise the look of curiosity. Tegestu nodded to himself. No, my cunning Tosta, he thought; this tidbit is not for you; It is far too dangerous. There will be Pranoth men guarding the quarantine, not your own.