“Mine, I think, Nalgre,” snapped Old Natyzha, triumphantly.
“I think not, Kovneva. My plant took the larger portion.”
They appealed to Ered Imlien, who shrugged and would not give a verdict. The evidence was now being digested within the orange flowers. So they looked at me.
“It matters not who wins. The fly was Vallia. The flick-flick plants were, one, you Racters, and, two-”
“Two — this bitch queen!” flared Natyzha. She dismissed the matter of the wager with a wave of the hand. Thus important was the matter to her and the others, that a disputed wager which could be the subject of long and enjoyable wrangling should be summarily dismissed. “This Queen Lush of Lome. The emperor did not attend at the Temple of Opaz the Nantifer today, because he was meeting her. Once she gets her hooks into him-”
“He, then, is also the fly.”
“Aye! And we will pull the stronger, if you will honor your promise and assist us.”
“Do not think I forget your insolence, Trylon Ered.” I said this just to keep him on his toes. He slapped his riding crop against his boots, and glowered; but had the sense to remain silent. “And, Kovneva, I made you no promises.”
“We know you have been released from your banishment. But you and the emperor still hate each other. His death-”
“I will have none of that. I have told you. You seek to work in legal ways, or so I believe. But if you forget that and hire assassins to do away with the emperor, you will be brought to ruin. This I promise.”
I do not make promises lightly, and this, I think, they knew. At the least, they were not to be sucked in by any pretense I might make at being an ineffective, a puffed-up Jikai of the imagination, a publicity warrior. They knew better.
Again I found myself considering just what position and just how powerful these people were within the Racter Party of Vallia. Nath Ulverswan, Kov of The Singing Forests, was not here this day — not that you’d notice much for he seldom spoke in meetings. Natyzha was, indeed, a very powerful woman, the Dowager Kovneva of Falkerdrin. But the black and whites extended their tentacles of authority into every part of Vallia. They were owners of vast expanses of rich land, they were shipowners, they were slavemasters. I did not like them overmuch. But — were the people here just a front for the inner cabal of Racters, their High Council, their private Presidio?
One fact remained; through them I was dealing with the racters. I wanted to press on to the Northeast but thought I would try a little ploy with them here first.
“If the emperor marries this Queen Lush I, for one, will be heartily glad.” I spoke harshly, emphasizing my words. “That will relieve me of an unwanted burden.”
Natyzha sneered at me, her lower lip upthrust like the beak of a swifter of The Eye of the World.
“And if they have brats? More Vallian princes and princesses? That will deprive you and your precious princess of the succession.”
“As I say, it will be a relief.”
“I do not believe you!” flared Ered Imlien, bluff, red-faced, and he bashed his riding crop down with a crack.
It would have been easy to have made some fierce declaration about men who spoke like that ending up with their guts hanging out; but I refrained. He was an onker who ran headlong on his own destruction. How he had lasted as long as he had remained a mystery. And, truly, he was gnawed by fears for his estates.
“So you stand against the Queen of Lome?”
“Aye!”
“And, prince,” pointed out Nalgre Sultant in his best offensive manner, “so should you be, too. We stood once before together against the Great Chyyan. I have no love for you. But even though you are merely a wild clansman, you are now of Vallia. When Vallia is threatened we must all stand together.”
And, of course, they believe this and it goes some way toward redeeming them, whatever their evil and however you may regard that devalued ideal of patriotism. They considered — no! They knew that they could rule Vallia better than anyone else. That being the case, anyone who opposed them stood against Vallia.
I stood up. “The deal we made still stands. I will assist you against the enemies of Vallia. I will make no move against the emperor and I will personally exterminate any of you who try to kill him or any of his family.” With a small dismissive gesture I finished: “As for this Queen Lush — let her take her chances with the emperor. The old devil hasn’t had much fun lately. And an alliance with a country of Pandahem is a good beginning-”
“That is traitorous talk!” burst out Imlien. “Pandahem, every country in the island, is our mortal enemy.”
“You’re a fool, Imlien. Hamal is our enemy. We must make allies of all the countries of Pandahem. And, one day, we will conclude a real treaty of friendship with Hamal, too.”
They stared at me as though I had taken leave of my senses. What did they know of my greater plans for Paz? They would not understand, could not grasp the idea of all Paz as a single united grouping, standing against the savage Chanks from around the curve of the world. For these racters, Vallia must always stand supreme, ruling other countries, or warring with them.
Because Delia and I had bathed in the Sacred Pool of Baptism in far Aphrasoe, we were possessed of a thousand years of life, quite apart from being blessed with miraculous powers of self-healing. And the emperor had been bathed, also. He would outlive these schemers, he would remain emperor for a thousand years, he could afford to laugh at them and their plans.
All the same, he must take precautions. And knowledge of those plans, information of the intrigues against him, would be essential.
I rubbed my chin, and turned back to face them, saying: “If you can speak plainly and without anger, Ered Imlien, tell me of the troubles you have around Thengelsax.”
The gist of what he said, shorn of the expletives and the anger and the spluttering indignation, gave a picture of sudden and devastating raids by bands of riders from over the borders of the Northeast. This was crazy. All Vallia was part of the empire, ruled by the emperor, policed by his orders. But the movement for self-determination had flowered in the northeastern sections which were inhabited by peoples traditionally resentful of the authority imposed by the center and the south. That I could understand. What bothered me was the crass folly of people who wished to break the empire down into small units that could never, alone, stand against the hideous dangers of the future.
“Kovneva,” I said, speaking in a deliberately thoughtful tone of voice. “In your opinion, does this threat from the Northeast constitute a real menace to the throne? Could they topple the emperor?”
She screwed up that clever, wizened, vicious old face.
“Yes and no. I do not think they could field an army that could break through to Vondium. But the troubles they cause can lead to such disorder that a strong and better-placed faction could seize the power. Up there they have great faith in their necromancers-”
“Necromancers? Of wizards and sorcerers, yes; but-”
“Necromancers I said, and devilish Opaz-forsaken corpse-revivers I mean!”
I digested that. Then: “And the strong and better-placed faction would be the racters?”
No one answered. The answer was writ plain on all their faces.
“Well, that is where we part company. I will stand against you for the emperor if needs must-”
“You fool! You destroy yourself! He hates you and will do nothing for you. Think again, Dray Prescot. Think of yourself and your family.”
I did not answer that directly. I fancied it would too directly put a weapon into their hands.
“And the Panvals? The white and greens? Will they not strike for the power?”
They laughed their contempt. “The Panvals will fade away as salt dissolves in water when the racters strike.”
“And the other factions? The Vondium Khanders? The Fegters who grow daily in strength? The Lornrod Caucus-”