Tegestu considered for a moment. This was sounding more and more like a strange set of coincidences; but still, if she were a spy, operating under the cover of a traveling conjuror would be almost perfect, and would allow her to contact her fellow agents with ease. It would not be wise to take a chance. “Continue surveillance,” he said. “Not too elaborate; if she’s good she’ll see it. Perhaps,” he smiled, “she will accept an invitation to perform for us one evening.”
“You won’t be disappointed in that case, bro-demmin,” Cascan said. “No matter what she turns out to be, she’s a splendid entertainer.” He bowed, and Tegestu wondered whether his whelkran of spies had a gleam of triumph in his eye. Perhaps Cascan had wanted him to be intrigued — otherwise why bring up the matter in the first place? But no: with Tastis in revolt and the local forces on alert, the situation was serious; Cascan would have kept any frivolous matters out of their conference. His raising the issue at all meant that he was puzzled. The conjuror was certainly something out of the ordinary, yet she was not following any of the normal patterns expected of a spy. It was almost as if she intended to be noticed.
Welclass="underline" enough. Possibly a search of her belongings would help answer their questions.
“Precede me, ban-demmin Cascan,” Tegestu said. Cascan bowed again and led the way past two saluting cathruni to the meeting of the aldran.
The welldrani rose as Tegestu entered; he and Cascan bowed politely as they took their places. Then all bowed to the household armor — the heavy, quaint, and ornate armor worn by the founders of each of their kamlissi many centuries before, all since etched heavily with patterns showing gods, charms for good luck, and allegorical scenes, the lances — Brodaini had once fought entirely as heavy cavalry — set in place with clan banners draped from each lance point. Tegestu gave the signal to sit.
The room was only of modest size, with two doors, one at either end. The doors were massive, inches thick, in order to prevent any eavesdropper from being able to listen, and the room was barren of ornamentation or tapestry for much the same reason, to prevent anyone from hiding unseen and listening to things he shouldn’t.
All twelve of the welldrani were present, all sitting in their armor and gleaming badges of rank except Truscatta, at eighty-one the oldest, too frail to bear arms but a man who had gained great demmin in his day. Nine men, among them Tegestu’s son Acamantu, and four women, including Grendis Destu Luc y’Dantu, Tegestu’s wife — and all the rest were related to Tegestu in some fashion or other, even if they belonged to different kamlissi; they were also related one to the other, the aldran being as much a family council as a council of state, even though the “family” over which they claimed authority consisted of the hundred thousand-odd Brodaini and their dependents who served the city of Arrandal.
“May your demmin ever increase, cousins,” Tegestu said. The welldrani murmured the reply, and then there was silence as four of the autraldi — warrior-priests — entered to conduct the ceremonies of purification: incense was burned, a hymn was sung, the gods were invoked along with the spirits of ancestors. The autraldi bowed and withdrew, and the meeting commenced.
The first matters were triviaclass="underline" supplies and fodder had to be sent to outlying garrisons; the watch list for the next month had to be made up; reports of various training programs were received and noted; passwords for the next two weeks were approved. Two youths, one from kamliss Tosta and the other from Dantu, had requested permission to fight a duel. Had they been from the same kamliss permission would not have been needed, but when the Brodaini had first come to the city Tegestu had ordered that, in order to prevent unnecessary friction between the clans, an inter-kamliss duel would require the permission of the aldran.
Apparently there was some degree of clan honor involved, for neither of the welldrani representing Tosta nor Dantu objected or required clarification. Permission was given therefore, and the nature of the insult was not inquired into. The duel would be with rhomphia, to honorable serious wounds. Death might not necessarily result, but for the duel to be meaningful fatality was required to be a possibility.
Then Cascan gave his report, beginning first with the outland situation, the refugees and Baron Wollas’ probable deputation, then continuing to an appreciation of the current situation in the city: the fleet on alert, heightened security at the gates, new forces in the citadel.
“Bro-demmini,” old Truscatta said, “I hope we are not reacting to these moves over-slowly. It may be necessary to braid our hair.”
“Braiding hair,” meant war; for battle the Brodaini forsook their elaborate hairstyles and coiled their hair in braids about their heads.
“Cousins,” said Tegestu, “we must move cautiously. We do not wish to provoke an attack.”
“We must not be caught off guard.’’
“May your demmin increase, ban-demmin Truscatta,” Tegestu smiled, “when were we ever lax?”
The old man, answering Tegestu’s smile, bowed.
“Abessu-Denorru Necias has requested my presence tomorrow,” Tegestu said, “I shall oblige. Surely distrust cannot survive such a meeting.”
“The request is unusual.” This came from Grendis.
“The situation is unusual, and not of our making,” Tegestu said. “Tastis’ strategy is obvious; he has sent a message under bar of kantu-kamliss, and this divides the Brodaini from the city, and Brodainu from Brodainu. We must face these provocations with calm. The Abeissu shall be satisfied.”
“It may be a trap.” Grendis said. “Necias Abeissu may think to sever our head from our shoulders by taking our drandor from us.”
Tegestu turned to his wife, inwardly amused. They knew each other well, and he understood what she was doing: attempting to draw the sting from the others’ objections by raising them herself. “I do not think Necias will make himself ar-demmin in such a way,” he said. “Surely if he behaves dishonorably we will know how to respond.”
“But,” he said, bowing toward Grendis, “the possibility must not be denied, and I would esteem it a favor if the aldran chooses from itself one to secure the keep in my absence, and take whatever steps are necessary to deal with any treachery. I regret that I must make a single restriction: the commander must be of kamliss Pranoth; otherwise there is no way of dealing with the kantu-kamliss matter.”
That went down hard, but they bowed to the necessity: Tegestu’s son Acamantu was chosen as temporary drandor, and could scarcely conceal his pleasure at being chosen for such a responsibility at the extremely youthful age of thirty-nine. Tegestu repressed a smile at his son’s joy. Acamantu’s rapid advance had owed something initially to his parents’ prominence, but Tegestu knew that for some time his promotions had been earned. He had proven a talented field commander, but his advance to high rank and promotion to the aldran had come about chiefly because he was one of the most successful of the Brodaini in dealing with the natives of the new continent; his diplomatic skills had proved considerable.
There was further discussion, speculation concerning whether Tastis would attempt to spread his rebellion by force of arms or whether he would be content to await events. Tegestu was inclined to suspect the latter: Tastis, he thought, was too clever simply to begin an outright attack on his neighbors, which would serve only to drive them together — Tastis would prefer, Tegestu thought, more indirect means of achieving his objectives. Tastis probably had dozens of spies in Arrandal, and more in the other cities of the Elva; no doubt other agents would soon join them. They would try to provoke incidents, sowing distrust between the Brodaini and their host cities, attempting to incite hatred and resentment. They would attempt to create a climate in which a general Brodaini revolt was inevitable.