"And I am neither fighter nor strategist," Jadrek replied.
"Stalemate," Tarma observed, flexing her shoulders to try and relax the tense muscles there. "Not that I don't agree with you both. Warrl?"
:I, also. It is too easy to lose a civil war.:
"All right, we're agreed that rousing the country-side is out, then?"
The other two nodded, slowly.
"Assassination."
:That, I favor,: Warrl replied, raising his head from his paws. :lt would be an easy thing for me. Wait until he is in the garden with a wench -- over the wall-: He snapped his jaws together suggestively. :lt would give me great pleasure, and I could easily be gone before alarm could be effective.:
"Not clear-cut enough," Jadrek asserted. "There will always be those wanting to make a martyr out of Char. It's amazing how saintly a tyrant becomes after he's dead. We want Stefan firmly on the throne, or this country will be having as many problems as it already has, just different ones."
Warrl sighed, and put his head back down.
"Sorry, mindmate -- I sympathize. That leaves the small-scale uprising; here, in the city. Can we pull that off?"
"Maybe. By Midsummer we'll have the working people solidly behind us; those that aren't losing half their incomes to Char's taxes are losing half their incomes because the others have less to spend," Kethry said, nibbling at her thumbnail. "What I've been working with are the merchants, and they are vastly discontent with the way things are going. If there's an uprising, they will be on our side of the riot. The problem is that these are not people used to righting."
"Maybe not, but I'll bet most of them have a few hired fighters each, either as guards for themselves, or for their goods," Tarma pointed out. "If there were some way that we could promise that their property would stay safe, I'll bet they'd turn those fighters over to us for -- say -- two days. Assuming that they are professional enough to fight together as a force instead of a gaggle of individuals."
"I'll work on that." Kethry replied.
"I suspect we'll have most of the clergy, too, by Midsummer," Jadrek offered. "And for many of the same reasons. And I know of at least two militant orders within the city walls. Those Warriors will fight as a single unit."
"Good. What about the highborn? Don't they have retinues?"
Jadrek shook his head with regret. "No, not inside the city walls. That was one of Destillion's edicts; no noble can have more than four armed retainers when at Court. And you know the size of Char's guard force."
"He's got a small army, not even counting his personal guard," Tarma agreed ruefully. "Still -- maybe I can come up with a notion. I might be able to work a bit of subversion in Char's forces, who knows? Let's stick with the local uprising plan. I think we're all agreed it's got the best chance of success."
She swung her feet down off the table, and noticed with surprise that the light coming through the closed shutters was red. "Damn! Sunset already? I've got to be getting back. Char's got another drunken orgy he's holding tonight, and wants his back safe."
Kethry mussed herself artistically, pulling one sleeve of her blouse so far down that a generous portion of breast was exposed. She stood up at the same moment as Tarma, followed her to the door, and let her out. For the benefit of anyone watching, they gave a well-acted imitation of a passionate farewell.
When Kethry finished locking the door behind Tarma, she turned to see that Jadrek was still sitting at the table, looking broodingly at a stain in the wood. She was not at all unhappy about that, because she had just about decided that certain other things were going to have to come to a head -- one way or another.
"Still worried?" she asked, returning to her seat, and reaching out to touch her index finger to the wick of the candle standing in the middle of the table. It promptly ignited.
Jadrek had looked up as she had taken her chair, and watched her light the candle with rapt fascination. "I never get tired of seeing you do things like that," he said. "It's just -- so -- magical."
She laughed, and dispelled the illusion on herself. He relaxed visibly.
She raised an eyebrow, and he shrugged.
"I like you better this way," he confessed shyly. "The other -- seems harder, somehow."
"Oh, she is; she's taking Arton for everything she can get," Kethry replied.
"To answer your question -- yes, I'm still worried. But I also know that all three of us are doing the best that we can, so worrying isn't going to make a great deal of difference, one way or the other." He stood up, with visible reluctance. "I probably should leave you...."
"Why?" Kethry asked, frankly. "Are you expecting anyone tonight?"
"Well, no, but -- "
"Neither am I." She glanced at Warrl, who took the hint, padding through the still-open door between their rooms, shutting it behind him with a casual kick. Kethry moved closer to Jadrek before he could move away, not touching him but standing so near that their faces were within inches of each other.
"Jadrek, I want you to know that I find you very, very attractive."
His eyes registered his complete surprise as she deliberately held his gaze. "I also want you to know that I am not a virgin, and I'm perfectly capable of dealing with attentions that I don't welcome. You," she finished, "do not come under that category."
"I-you never stop surprising me. I hardly know what to say...."
"Then don't say, do. Unless you don't find me attractive -- "
Slowly he lifted one hand, and cupped it against her face. "Kethry -- " he breathed, "Kethry, I find you very attractive. Almost unbearably attractive. But I'm not a young man -- "
She echoed his gesture, his cheek warm beneath her hand. "If I wanted a young man, there's a tavern full downstairs. It's you I admire, Jadrek; the mind, the person. You're something special -- something those pretty bodies downstairs aren't, and probably never will be."
Very hesitantly, he leaned forward and kissed her. She returned the kiss as passionately as she dared, and suddenly he responded by embracing her and prolonging the kiss until she was breathless.
When they broke apart, his gray eyes were dark with confusion. "Kethry -- "
"There are more comfortable places to be doing this," she said, very softly. "Over there, for one." She nodded at the curtained bed, half-hidden in the shadows.
He blushed. He blushed even harder when she led him there by the hand, and all but pushed him down onto it. "I -- " he stammered, looking past her, "Kethry, I'm not -- very experienced at this sort of -- "
"You were doing just fine a moment ago," she interrupted him gently, then prevented further protests by embracing him and resuming the kiss where it had been left off.
He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then seemed to make up his mind all in an instant, and returned her embrace with a fervor that at least equaled her own. He pulled her down beside him; she did not resist in the least, that being exactly what she wanted from him.
For a very long time, all they did was kiss and exchange halting, hesitant caresses, almost like a pair of naive youngsters. But when she returned every tenderness with more of the same, he grew braver, daring to undo the lacings of her dress, daring to touch her with fingers that slowly grew bolder.