Mahkbyth managed not to frown. He really didn’t want to open his shop, and especially not on such short notice for an officer who’d been seconded to the Inquisition. By the same token, pissing off someone with the sort of connections the major had could be dangerous. More to the point, people might start wondering why he’d been stupid enough to risk pissing him off.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Sir,” he said after only the briefest of hesitations. “Of course, if you’ve been to that many other shops, it’s likely I don’t have it in stock either.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry to say quite a few labels have been in short supply since the Jihad began.”
“Oh, trust me!” The major rolled his eyes. “I’m only too well aware of that, Chief Sergeant!”
“What are you looking for, exactly, Sir?” Mahkbyth asked pleasantly. If it was as rare as the major was implying, he could always deny he had it in stock, either. For that matter, he thought with a smile, he might even be telling the truth! “I’m assuming it’s one I’ve at least heard of!”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure you have,” the major said, looking him straight in the eye. “I’m looking for Seijin Kohdy’s Premium Blend, Chief Sergeant. Do you think you could find me a bottle?”
.II.
Tellesberg Palace,
City of Tellesberg,
and
The Delthak Works,
Earldom of Hanth High Rock,
Kingdom of Old Charis,
Empire of Charis,
and
Charisian Embassy,
Siddar City,
Republic of Siddarmark.
“I have to say, I never really thought I’d see something like this,” Sharleyan Ahrmahk said.
She and Maikel Staynair sat in a sunny council chamber with Trahvys Ohlsyn, the Earl of Pine Hollow and the Kingdom of Old Charis’ first councilor, and Bynzhamyn Raice, Baron Wave Thunder, the Empire of Charis’ senior spymaster. Or, rather, the Empire of Charis’ senior breathing spymaster.
“I rather doubt Trynair saw it coming, either,” the electronic personality who was the empire’s true spymaster said dryly over their com earplugs. “There’s a certain poetic justice to it, though, I suppose.”
“I don’t think there’s enough poetry in my soul to appreciate it properly, Nahrmahn,” Ehdwyrd Howsmyn, the Duke of Delthak, put in from his office at the Delthak Works and looked at the red-haired upper-priest sitting across his desk from him.
“Mine either,” Paityr Wylsynn agreed, his eyes dark. “I’m ashamed to say there’s a vengeful part of me that feels nothing but satisfaction after what happened to Father and Uncle Hauwerd and all their friends. But that’s an ugly part I try not to listen to very often, and the rest of me.…”
His voice trailed off, and he shook his head, looking down into the tumbler of Glynfych in his hand.
“I didn’t mean to sound flippant, Paityr,” Nahrmahn said. “But I’m afraid my vengeful side’s better developed than yours is. And it may be petty of me, but I tend to carry a fairly personal grudge against people whose allies have me murdered.”
“That would tend to give someone an interesting perspective,” Cayleb Ahrmahk observed from the dining room attached to his quarters in the Charisian Embassy. He and Merlin Athrawes and Nynian Rychtyr had just finished breakfast, and he grimaced. “On the other hand, Paityr has a point. That’s an ugly, ugly way to die.”
“I don’t want to appear insensitive, but dead is dead, and none of the four of them could have gotten that way soon enough to satisfy me,” Nynian said grimly. “As for being surprised, I’d always figured Trynair was the one most likely to be the first to get thrown off the ice floe to check for krakens.” She shrugged. “His problem was that he was always the smartest one in the room, even when he wasn’t. I don’t know for sure what he really did to piss Clyntahn off, but he should’ve borne in mind that his area of expertise hasn’t been in much demand since the jihad started. In fact, I’d be willing to bet that at least half the reason he went to the Punishment was to help Clyntahn make a point to Maigwair and Duchairn. They have skills he still needs, so why not use someone he doesn’t need as what the Inquisition likes to call ‘a teaching moment’?”
Her eyes were very dark, her expression cold, and Merlin regarded her thoughtfully as he nodded.
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you’re right about that, love,” he said. “I know you’re right about the way Clyntahn’s mind works, anyway. And you definitely know all the players involved better than any of the rest of us do. But that does leave an interesting question. What inspired him to arrange a ‘teaching moment’ at this particular time?”
“I can’t answer that, but I’d bet my ruby eardrops it has a little something to do with what Kynt, Eastshare, and the others are doing to the Temple’s armies.” Nynian took a sip of chocolate. “Clyntahn’s got to be getting desperate, and he’s the sort who works out his fears by killing other people. If I had to guess, Trynair was probably stupid enough to suggest negotiating with us. Either that or one of the two Clyntahn figures he still needs said something he needed to discourage by killing someone else.”
“You don’t think Clyntahn would support negotiations even if they were nothing but a ploy to win time, Nynian?” Nahrmahn asked.
“I doubt he’d even consider it,” Maikel Staynair responded before Nynian could. He shook his head, his expression grim. “After all this bloodshed, he has to know he, personally, won’t survive defeat, no matter what else happens. As Cayleb would say, that’s so not going to happen. And even if he didn’t realize we’d demand that as a matter of justice, he knows perfectly well that in our shoes, he’d demand it out of vengeance. He’s not going to do anything that could open the door to that result.”
“I think you’re exactly right, Maikel,” Nynian agreed. “And I’d add that he’d see a willingness to negotiate, whether it was genuine or not, as a fatal sign of weakness. He’d believe that as soon as word got out, any remaining support for the jihad would evaporate. After all, if the Temple’s willing to negotiate, then clearly this hasn’t really been a life-or-death grapple between God and Shan-wei from the beginning. God doesn’t negotiate with the Mother of Lies. If the Group of Four—well, Group of Three, now—is willing to negotiate, then they’re effectively declaring that we’ve been right all along. This has been a war against mortal men claiming to speak for God, and now that they’re losing, they’re trying to salvage whatever they can of their own positions and power.”
“That’s pretty much what I’ve been thinking, too,” Wave Thunder put in. “Especially the bit about its validating our position that we’ve been fighting against men who have perverted God’s will. Clyntahn’s about as arrogant as they come, but he’s smart enough to recognize that.”
“Don’t overlook the possibility that his own beliefs could be involved in this,” Ohlyvya Baytz said. Her image sat on the terrace of Eraystor Palace—or, rather, of its electronic doppelgänger in the VR computer in Nimue’s Cave—beside her husband. He cocked an eyebrow at her, and she shrugged.