Kumul became very still. “No.” He reached out and gently stroked her hair.
Jenrosa leaned forward, stretched up to tiptoes, and kissed him on the lips.
Chapter 6
While Orkid talked at him, Prado adjusted his horse’s saddle straps. The chancellor was spouting something about the heavy responsibility the queen had entrusted to him, but it went in one ear and out the other. All Prado could think of was what lay ahead. It would take him a few days to get to the Arran Valley, and at least a month to recruit and supply his own mercenaries, then another month or so to get to the border with Haxus, picking up more troops on the way. Then a month, less if he was lucky, to get reliable information about Rendle’s movements and the location of the Chett tribe protecting Lynan. He was impatient to go. But Orkid was still mouthing.
“And don’t overuse your office. Remember, the queen can turn you into an outlaw as easily as a general. Don’t drain our forces on the border with Haxus for your little expeditions.”
Little? The idiot knows nothing about military operations.
“Queen Charion of Hume has been informed of your eventual arrival, and instructed to give whatever assistance is necessary. But step warily with her; Charion is a clever woman.”
“I’ve heard worse about her than that,” Prado said offhandedly. “Some say she’s a deceitful bitch who hates Chandra more than Haxus.”
“Be that as it may, she is Queen Areava’s subject. Treat her with the appropriate courtesy.”
“If you say so.”
“And who are these gentlemen?” Orkid asked, looking around at the six large and rudely dressed riders waiting for Prado.
“My first recruits.”
“Where did you find them?”
“Taverns, mostly. They are all ex-soldiers or mercenaries, a little down on their luck but interested in useful employment.” He half smiled at Orkid. “Useful employment in the queen’s service, of course.”
“I hope the caliber of your other recruits is slightly higher,” Orkid said distastefully.
“They’ll do for the job at hand,” Prado said shortly. “I’m not creating a parade unit, Chancellor. I want experienced warriors, and warriors used to not asking awkward questions.” He mounted and sat comfortably in his saddle. “Anything else before I go? Any messages for Prince Lynan?”
“Just do your job, Prado. That’s all I ask.”
“Then ask no more,” he said, and spurred his horse.
He left the palace knowing he would soon have a large force of mercenaries at his command. Never during the long years of his retirement in the Arran Valley had he thought this would ever come about. Perhaps, just perhaps, he considered, the good old days would come back again. The world had turned around, and once again it had need of men like Prado and the services only they could provide.
Orkid watched as Prado left the palace courtyard, his six followers close behind. The chancellor shook his head, angry at the obvious contempt in Prado’s voice.
Well, let him keep his arrogance, he thought. If he survives, he can be cut down a few pegs.
From her chambers Areava, too, watched the departure of Prado and his men. Like Prado, she sensed that the world had turned, but for something new not something old. The age to come would be unlike any that had come before, and she was unsure if it was for good or ill. Her gaze lifted to take in the whole of Kendra. It was still one of the most beautiful sights she had ever seen, refreshing her spirit whenever she looked out upon it, yet some of the sheen had gone. More and more it seemed less an idea given form, an idea about statehood and the rule of natural law, than simply a place where power resided, and she was learning that power was like mercury, ready to flow whichever way fortune led it.
Her private secretary, Harnan Beresard, coughed politely from behind his small writing desk. He was a thin, reedy man who looked barely strong enough to support his own weight when he stood. Sandy hair, sparse on top, made him look younger than he really was. Areava looked at him blankly for a moment. “What were we up to?”
“Your correspondence to King Tomar and Queen Charion regarding their trade dispute.”
“Oh, yes.” She brought her mind back to the matter at hand, and started dictating. “While I see it as my duty to ensure both your states have appropriate access to Kendra, there is little I can do to fix tariffs within your own domains. My mother saw fit to leave local affairs to local rulers, and I am reluctant to change that policy.”
Still gazing out from her window, she saw Orkid striding across the courtyard to his own offices when a postrider suddenly galloped through the main gate. Instead of stopping for an attendant to take her horse, the rider went straight up to Orkid and handed him a message. Areava watched him read it, saw his figure tense. He said something to the messenger and she immediately rode off again.
“Your Majesty?”
“Where was I up to?” she asked absently.
Orkid looked up toward her chambers and saw her. He changed direction and headed toward her section of the palace.
“You are reluctant to change your mother’s policy about noninterference in local matters,” Harnan summarized.
“However, I am deeply concerned at this ongoing dispute between two such loyal subjects, and wish to see it resolved as soon as possible.”
She heard Orkid’s heavy footsteps coming up the stone stairs outside, then along the corridor to her chambers.
“To this end,” she continued, “I am therefore resolved to establish a party of learned councilors who will advise me on this issue and other issues regarding trade and tariffs.”
There was a knock on the door and a guard opened it. Orkid stood there for a moment, looking grim and displeased. Areava absently wished he would soften bis appearance by shaving off his beard.
“And I would, of course, expect each of you to send a representative to sit on this council. In kindest regards, so on and so forth. For my signature this afternoon.”
“Your Majesty,” Harnan said.
“Orkid? You look like a startled bear.”
“May I see your Majesty privately for a moment?”
Areava nodded. “Thank you, Harnan. I will call you when I am ready.”
Harnan stood up promptly, gathered together his writing materials and small desk, bowed to the queen, and shuffled out. Orkid shut the door behind him.
“I saw a messenger arrive for you,” Areava began.
“She came from the docks. I have a post down there.”
“I know. I pay for it, remember?”
Orkid looked uncomfortable.
“Oh, come now, Chancellor. You can’t expect to keep all your secrets for yourself.”
“My operations are an open book for you, your Majesty, you should know that. Something else troubles me.”
Areava nodded.
“The message was from one of my agents on a Lurisian ship that came in today. The ship recently completed a long voyage along Theare’s east coast, north to Chandra and Hume ... and Haxus.”
“So, Salokan is still letting trade get through? That’s a promising sign.”
“The last, I’m afraid,” Orkid said somberly.
Areava felt her chest tighten. “What word have you?” she demanded.
“The agent managed to journey with a caravan from the Oino delta to Kolbee itself. He reports the city came under curfew while he was there. Over several nights he heard large numbers of troops moving south through the streets. He assumed they came from the royal barracks. On his last morning he visited a market place near the barracks, and no one would open for business since there was no longer any business to be had. The Kolbee garrison had gone—all of it.”
“Salokan is mobilizing.” She tapped her fingers together. “And it ties together the fragments of intelligence we are getting from other traders and our spies, that Salokan is storing more grain and cattle than usual for winter, and that he is limiting the trade in iron ore in his own country.” She looked up at Orkid, unable to hide completely the fear in her eyes. “The king of Haxus is preparing to go to war.”