"I am, sire."
"How good a one? Can you win this war for me by simply casting a spell?"
"That would be a difficult way of going about it, sire. No one enchantment could take into account all the myriad contingencies."
"That's what your brother said. I believe him. But you can cast spells to provide favorable conditions, facilitate the happy unfolding of events, forfend hexes and other dangers-all that?"
"All that can be done, sire."
The king nodded. "Good. We'll need every supernatural advantage. In addition to the favor of the gods."
The king's brother spoke: "Surely the gods favor those who are wronged, as I have been."
"No doubt," the king told him.
The smell of herbs and spices came to Trent's nostrils: fennel, coriander, and others he couldn't identify. He hoped the food here wasn't too spicy. The stuff looked good, anyway. Both men continued eating as they talked.
The king went on. "But it's not that simple, I'm afraid. There are gods, and there are gods. They divide and take opposite sides. Some no doubt favor our enemy. I myself have had disturbing dreams of late."
Menoetius raised his eyebrows. "Oh? What dreams are these?"
Anthaemion shook his head. "I cannot recount them clearly enough to make sense. I half-remember them. Perhaps, as time goes on, their import will be made clearer. But they are disturbing nonetheless."
"This does not bode well."
Anthaemion's brow lowered. "No. Some days I sit and brood, and it occurs to me that what we aim to do will not go well, that no good can come of it."
"But our honor must be restored."
The king half-smiled. "Our honor, brother?"
"Pelion's outrage was an affront to all Arkadians!" Anthaemion popped a honeyed fig into his mouth, chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed before answering. "Of course, my brother. Of course. But there are other reasons why we must deal with the Dardanians. The price of grain rises every year, and we must import more every year. We need new fields to till, and there are none to have in this barren wilderness. The Dardanian coast has vast fertile plains lying fallow, waiting for the bite of the plow, but the Dardanians burn our colonies and kill our colonists, or take them prisoner. Niggardly of them, is it not? No, favorite brother, there are other good reasons for our attempting to rescue Alena from the clutches of the rapist Pelion."
"Foul rapist and pirate. Whom I will first castrate, then rip his belly open for dogs to devour the guts, while I watch and enjoy. That is but a taste of what I will do to Pelion when I take Troas."
The king chuckled. "You will reduce Troas alone, then?"
Menoetius looked into his gold wine cup. "Not alone, no. But I will challenge Pelion to come out and face me. Alone."
"Single combat settles nothing," Anthaemion said.
"I demand the right."
Anthaemion sighed. "As I suppose you must. Brave of you, my brother. Very brave."
The king looked up at Trent again. "As you can see, there are many complications to this affair. I have not begun to mention them. Half our forces are at the other half's throat. Ancient enmities, old vendettas. It is the way of our people. Nevertheless, we are united in one single purpose, to destroy the Dardanians once and for all. And that we will, the gods willing. I would meet with you again, Trent. Tomorrow morning. My brother goes back to Piraeon then. Tomorrow you will tell me your ideas of how best to attack the Dardanian coast and where to deploy our armies to greatest advantage."
Trent bowed. "Sire, I will be happy to do so."
Right. Trent thought, all my brilliant ideas, of which I've come up with zero to date.
"Meanwhile, dine and sleep. Take what slave girls you want to your bed. They seem to breed of late. More mouths to feed. Gods know how I got so many of them. You may go."
Telamon and Trent bowed, then backed away.
"I'll show you to your quarters," Telamon told him in the vestibule. "Very comfortable, with a view of the plains."
Trent thought, Inky, I'm going to kill you one of these days. Just a matter of time.
QUEEN'S DINING HALL
"I say we split up into pairs and fan out," Dalton said as he stirred his coffee.
"Not a bad idea," Gene said. "We only have to check 144,000 holes to see which one they might be coming through."
"True, it's a huge job."
"Though I suppose it's got to be done."
"Right."
"Because, even as we speak…"
Three homunculi were busy sweeping up the dining room. As Gene and his friends watched, two more came in to help.
"But he can't check every aspect," Thaxton said.
"Let's hope we get lucky," Dalton said.
"And what exactly is our plan when we do find the portal the little beggars are coming through?"
Dalton shrugged and sipped his coffee.
"I'll tell you what we do," Deena Williams said. "We get some bricks and mortar and wall up that damn hole."
"A thought," Thaxton said.
"It's spooky." Deena shivered.
"No, we let Lord Incarnadine deal with them," Barnaby Walsh said.
"How come he ain't dealin' with 'em now?"
"Well, I don't know. I suppose-"
"Hey, there she is," Deena said.
Everyone looked up at Linda as she came walking over to the long dining table.
"Hi, gang."
"Linda, where you been?"
"Following little strange critters."
"So have we," Dalton said. "Did you happen to find out where they're coming from?"
"Nope," Linda said, pouring herself some coffee. "Tried. They're all over the place."
"Craziest thing," Deena said, shaking her head. "They give me the creeps."
"Oh, they're cute, in a way," Linda said, watching one of them diligently sweep by.
"Cute? They're disgustin', that's what they are."
"Aw, not really. They remind me of Elmer Fudd."
"I don't care if they look like Bugs Bunny. I want 'em outta here."
"How many of them are there, do you think?" Thaxton asked of the group.
"I counted hundreds," Linda said. "Hundreds and hundreds. No matter where I went, there they were."
"There are very possibly thousands of them," Dalton said. "Even so, I don't think the castle's in any immediate danger. In any event, we really should inform Tyrene."
"I saw him," Linda said. "Upstairs in the gymnasium, chasing the little devils around. He and some of the Guards. Until they gave up. There were over three hundred of them just in there."
"They seem to be increasing geometrically," Dalton said.
"And they don't say a word," Thaxton said. "Not a bloody word."
"We'll see," Gene said, getting to his feet. One of the homunculi was sweeping a path toward him. He got in front of it.
"Excuse me. Uh, say, little buddy… " It began to sweep a circle around him.
"Yo! Hey, there. Have a minute?" Gene shifted position to block the diminutive creature's path.
It turned and began to sweep in the opposite direction. Gene reached and grabbed the creature by the shoulder straps where they crossed at the back. The little fellow immediately went limp.
Gene picked the thing up. "Doesn't weigh much at all."
"Gene, be careful!" Linda said. "You might hurt it."
"Not to worry."
Gene gently lowered the creature to the floor and let go of the straps. After a moment, its head came up. Then it moved away from Gene, beginning its task once again, applying the broom quickly, methodically, sedulously.
"Completely passive," Dalton said. "Can't see how they'd be any danger at all. Just a nuisance."
"But what if they don't stop comin' through?" Deena demanded.
"The castle's a big place," Dalton said. "We have some time yet before we're hip-deep in them."