Pedi rubbed her wrist and looked at the shaman very thoughtfully.
"I'm not sure who needs the benan more," she said after a moment, with a gesture of rueful astonishment.
"I have been studying weapons since long before you were born," Cord pointed out serenely. "When I was your age, before the fall of Voitan, I was sent to the finest schools in the land, and I have studied and sought new ways ever since. The way of the sword—or the spear—is one of constant study. It is rich every day in new insights. Learn that, and you will be dangerous. Forget it, and we'll both be dead."
"Aargh!" Pedi groaned. "It wasn't pleasant to be caught by the Fire Priests. It wasn't pleasant to be shipped off to Strem as a Servant. It wasn't even pleasant to be captured by the Lemmar on my way there. But at least, at my darkest moment, I was able to console myself with the thought that I was finally rid of armsmasters!"
Cord wheeled around and stared out the window towards the mountains. It was a rather silly and dramatic pose, and he knew it, but he didn't want her to see his amusement. Or the fact that... parts of him had just surged.
Not the Season, he thought. Please, not that. That would be... bad.
"Whatever your life and destiny before," he said finally, solemnly, careful to keep any humor—or anything else—out of his voice, "your life and destiny now are to become an armsmaster."
So, as Julian would say, put that in your pipe and smoke it.
"I know that," Pedi said, with a gesture of resignation. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."
"Perhaps you don't, but..." Cord began, only to pause, looking more intently out of the window.
"But what?" she asked.
"But I have a question for you."
"Yes?" She looked down at her outfit. "Is something wrong?"
"I'd rather hoped you could tell me that," Cord said, gesturing out the window. "You are from here, after all. So tell me, do the mountains often smoke?"
It was nearly noon, yet the only light in the room came from oil lamps as the human and Mardukan staff and senior commanders trickled into the room. Pahner looked towards the window, listening to the slow, atonal chanting that echoed through the darkened streets, and shook his head.
"I have the funny feeling that this is not a good thing," he muttered.
"They must have these eruptions on a fairly regular basis," O'Casey pointed out as she flopped onto one of the pillows. She pulled a strand of hair away from her face and grimaced at the gritty ash that covered it. "At least we know now why they wear clothing here. Getting this stuff out of a Mardukan's mucous must be an almost impossible task."
Roger pulled up his own cushion without even glancing behind him as the various entities who had taken to following him jockeyed for position. It usually ended up with Cord to one side, Pedi stretched in the same general direction, and Dogzard curled up on top of Pedi. But for the fact that every one of them was, in his or her own way, heavily armed, it would have been humorous.
"I wish we had a better handle on their religion," he said seriously, listening to the same chant. "I can't figure out if this is a celebration or a funeral."
"The Krath Fire Priests consider this a dark omen of their gods," Pedi said. "Many Servants will be ingathered."
"More slave raids, then," Pahner said.
"Yes. And a great gathering." The Shin made a gesture of absolute disgust. "The Fire-loving bastards."
"T'e merchants have clam up," Poertena said. "Even t'e stuff we already contract for not getting delivered."
"How are we fixed?" Kosutic asked. "Can we hang on until things clear up, or do we need to talk to the Powers That Be?"
"We got ten days or so supply," the Pinopan said without consulting any of his data devices. "And more on t'e ship. But if we have to cut out, we gots problem."
"We may be able to avoid that," O'Casey said. "I think that something's broken free in the council. Maybe it has something to do with the eruption—I don't know." She shrugged. "Whatever it is, we've received a message from the High Priest indicating that he's willing to meet with Roger under the conditions we prescribed. That is, that Roger will not have to recognize the High Priest's sovereignty."
"I thought the council was more or less in control," Pahner said. "If that's true, what's the point of meeting with the High priest?"
"The council is in day-to-day control," O'Casey admitted. "But if the High Priest pronounces that we're free to travel, the council will have to accede to that."
"When is this thing?" Fain asked. "And who's going to accompany Roger?"
"Me, for one, obviously," O'Casey said with a faint smile. "After that, the guest list will be up to Captain Pahner. Who, I trust, will pack it with suitably lethal individuals."
"Kosutic in charge," Pahner said. "Despreaux and a fire team from her squad. Turn in your smoke poles and draw bead rifles. We've got enough ammo left for almost a full unit of fire for your team, and some of these people may recognize Imperial weapons when they see them. If they do, I want them to know we cared enough to send the very best. Fain, one squad from your infantry and one squad of cavalry. You, Rastar, and Honal stay back, though."
"I'll send Chim Pri," Rastar said. "It will get him off the boats."
"Where is this going to take place, Eleanora?" Kosutic asked.
"At the High Temple. That's the one all the way up at the crest of the ridge."
"I wish we knew whether or not this is a good sign," Roger said.
"I think it's a good one," O'Casey told him. "If there hadn't been some movement on their front, it wouldn't make sense to arrange a meeting with the High Priest."
"We'll see," Pahner said. "It could also be because they have such bad news to give us that the High Priest is the only appropriate spokesman to break it to us, you know. Rastar, how are the civan?"
"They don't like the ash," the Prince of Therdan said. "Neither do I, for that matter, and their hides are a lot more resistant to it than my slime is! Other than that, they're fine. They've recovered from their sea voyage, at least, and we're getting them back into training."
"Okay." Pahner nodded. "I don't know how this meeting is going to work out, but we're getting to the end of the time we can afford to spend here. I want everyone to quietly and not too obviously get ready to move out on a moment's notice. We'll have an inspection and get everything packaged for that. Eleanora, when is this meeting?"
"Tomorrow, just after the dawn service."
"Right. We'll schedule the inspection for the same time."
"Does all this martial ardor indicate that you think I'm going to have problems at the meeting?" Roger asked, unconsciously tapping the butt of one of his pistols.
"I hope not," Pahner said. "I'll go further—if I thought you were going to, I wouldn't let you go. Period. We haven't gotten this far taking things for granted, but I don't expect this to be the sort of problem you'll need a pistol for. Nobody's going to call a visiting Imperial nobleman and his bodyguards together with the High Priest of the entire satrap for a shooting match, at any rate."
"Nah," O'Casey agreed with a smile. "Heads of state are too valuable to use for targets or get caught in cross fires. That's what lower-level functionaries are for.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The large meeting room was near the highest point of the entire High Temple complex, with a single broad balcony at one end that looked down and out over the city. A marginal amount of illumination came from there, but not much. The city was still shrouded in the darkness and ash from the ongoing, low-level eruption. The room was long and low (by Mardukan standards), stretching back in a series of low arches into absolute blackness, punctuated by dim lamps that barely penetrated the gloom.