“With whom, Chancellor? He has no supporters among us, surely, and none among the other provinces that I have heard. He is almost forgotten by the p-p-people.”
“And if he is killed, alone and deserted on the Ocean of Grass, he will be forgotten entirely,” Areava said to Olio, and then to the counciclass="underline" “He is a traitor, he is an outlaw, and he has committed regicide. He deserves to die.”
“And it will not cost the kingdom much to raise a force of mercenaries large enough to hunt him down,” Shant Tenor said.
“Prado’s commission would be wider than that,” Areava told the council. “He has told me of a mercenary recently hired by us to help patrol the border with Haxus—a certain Rendle—who took our gold and then fled to Haxus to serve her king. I am convinced he must be found and punished as well, or all our mercenary units may come to believe they can do the same with impunity.”
“Then why trust this Prado?” Dejanus asked. His face wore the quizzical smile he so often gave when he thought he had an advantage, as if he was puzzled by good fortune. “He is nothing but another mercenary. Your Majesty, give me leave to take a regiment of our own horse to the Oceans of Grass. Prado can be our guide, if you like, and our loyalty is unquestioned.”
Orkid shook his head. “We cannot so easily dispatch such a regiment. Our forces are thin on the ground after so many years of peace, and although we are mobilizing against the possible threat of Haxus, if King Salokan should invade soon, we will need all the loyal units we have.”
“And in the short term, hiring mercenaries is cheaper,” Areava added. That put a smile on some of the councilors’ faces, she noted. They liked the idea of not spending more money than necessary, a fact she was counting on.
“But how reliable is this Prado?” the Marshal insisted.
“He will be reliable,” Orkid said. “I will make sure of it. I give the Council my word on it.”
There were no more disagreements, and only Orkid noticed the sour look cast him by Dejanus.
Areava and Sendarus spent the night together for the first time in several weeks.
“We should have done this more often,” Sendarus said to her in the morning.
“That would have been difficult before the council gave its final approval to the marriage. It would have seemed as if we were flouting all my advisers and many of the common people, too.”
Sendarus leaned over Areava, used his hand to trace her jaw and neck, then her breasts and the flat of her stomach. “Instead, you flouted me,” he said, pouting.
“Keep that up and I’ll flog you,” she said, and pushed him away. He roared in mock fury and tried to fling himself over her, but Areava got out of the way and leaped on him instead.
“You’re too slow, Amanite.”
“Slow to come,” he said, “better in bed.”
Areava laughed. “Oh, you are cheap.”
Sendarus twisted around underneath her. “You are less careworn today.”
“I feel it. Learning that Lynan was still alive shook my confidence, I admit. But I am back on top now.”
Sendarus grunted. “In more ways than one.”
Areava slammed a pillow into the side of his head. “This is the natural state of things. I am queen already, you are a mere prince.”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
She lay down against his length and held his head in her hands. “I love you, and always will, prince or no.” She kissed him quickly and moved to get out of bed.
“Already?” Sendarus complained. “I was hoping for a second engagement.”
“Tonight, perhaps. I have much to do.”
“Will we be taking a honeymoon after our marriage?”
“Of course. The morning after our marriage, I will stay in bed an extra hour. That should be enough time.”
“Too fast for me,” he said.
“But not for me,” she countered, already half-dressed. She went to the east window and opened it. Down below, the guard was changing, their spear tips and helms gleaming in the dawn light. She saw another figure, small, lonely and sad-looking, coming through the main gate. With a shock she realized it was Olio. In her depression about Lynan over the last few weeks she had not spared him much time, and he seemed to be getting worse from day to day. What was happening to him? Why was he changing so much? She did not want to gain a husband but lose her dearest brother.
Sendarus noticed her face fall. “What is it?” he asked, concerned.
She shook her head, said nothing.
Prado was filled with nervous impatience. “When can I go?” he demanded.
Orkid studied him carefully. Prado had been a wretched creature when he first came to the palace—malnourished, bruised, and cut—but now he looked every bit a warrior, lean and strong despite his middle age. On hearing of the council’s decision, the mercenary had immediately gone out and bought a new set of breeches, jerkin, boots, and gloves, and a fine Chandran sword and knife, all on credit. If anyone could find and slay Lynan, he could, Orkid thought.
“Soon. The queen should sign your warrant today, and I already have your promissory note from the treasury. You have enough to hire a small army for a period of several months. I hope it is enough, for you shall get no more.”
“It will be enough,” Prado said with arrogant confidence.
“I will bring you two heads in repayment: Prince Lynan’s and Rendle’s.”
“One head will be enough. Rendle’s remains you can leave where you slay him.”
“Oh, no. I have plans for that trophy.”
Orkid grimaced. “Your mission is to kill Lynan. Achieve that at all costs.”
“I will.”
“And do not fail me.”
“You?” Prado barked. “I thought I was serving your queen.”
“Our queen,” Orkid hissed. He stood right next to the mercenary. “And on this commission you answer to me. I will not brook failure.”
Prado’s eyes hardened. “I will not fail, Chancellor, but I do not like being threatened.”
“I promise you, Jes Prado, if you do fail me, I will have you hunted down like a crazed karak.”
There was such menace in Orkid’s voice and large, dominating figure that Prado retreated a step. He avoided the chancellor’s gaze. “I’ve already told you: I will not fail.”
Orkid nodded and moved to his desk and retrieved an official-looking parchment. He held it out to Prado. “Your promissory note.”
“Good,” Prado said, taking the parchment.
“Come back this evening for the warrant. By the way, it will have an extra clause the council does not know about, and which they must not know about.”
“Extra clause?”
“You will be given the rank of general in the Grenda Lear army. It will give you the authority to commandeer regular troops on the border if you need them.”
Prado gasped. “Me! A general in your army? This is a turnaround.”
“Where will you go first?”
“To the Arran Valley. Many from my old company live there, and will form the core of my force. From there north, picking up groups where I can find them.”
“Where will you base yourself?”
“On the border with Haxus, not far from the Algonka Pass. That way I can move in either direction, depending on which target presents itself first.”
“When do you leave?”
“If I get the warrant tonight, first thing in the morning.” He grinned up at the chancellor. “And the palace will be rid of me at last!”
“I will let the queen know,” Orkid replied. “She will be so pleased.”
Chapter 5
As far as Kumul was concerned, one part of the Oceans of Grass looked much the same as the next. He had marched through parts of it during the Slaver War with the General’s army and had never understood how their Chett guides knew where they were going. He knew north from south and east from west, sure enough, but where exactly in the north or south or east or west had always eluded him. Everywhere he looked tall grass, yellowing with autumn, covered the undulating landscape. Although there were creeks, there were no rivers or valleys and nothing taller than the occasional clump of spear trees. He knew the impression of absolute flatness was misleading, that you could reach the crest of one rise to find an army waiting for you on the other side, hidden by the gentlest of elevations, but he felt himself longing for some real geography—a wide river, a forest, a mountain or two—anything to break the monotony.