‘That cave? You think it might be a haven for them?’
‘Now we’re starting to get somewhere,’ Khalad said, his face growing intent. ‘The Peloi are probably the best light cavalry in the world, but Klael’s soldiers are almost as big as Trolls, and they seem to be able to ignore wounds that would kill one of us. I don’t think they’re running from the Peloi.’
‘No. They’re trying to run away from the air.’
Khalad snapped his fingers. ‘That’s it!’ he exclaimed. ‘That’s why they break off and run back to those caves. They aren’t hiding from the Peloi. They’re hiding from the air.’
‘Air is air, Khalad—whether it’s out in the open or inside a cave.’
‘I don’t think so, Berit. I think Klael has filled that cave with the kind of air his soldiers are used to breathing. He can’t change all the air on the whole world, because it would kill the Cyrgai as well as all the rest of us, and Cyrgon won’t let him do that. He can fill the cave with that other kind of air, though. It’d be the perfect place. It’s closed-in and more or less air-tight. It gives those monsters a place to go when they start to get winded. They can rest up in there and then come back out and fight some more. You’d better pass this on, Berit. Aphrael can let the others know that Klael’s soldiers are hiding out in caves because they can breathe there.’
‘I’ll tell her,’ Berit said dubiously. ‘I’m not sure what good it’s going to do us, but I’ll tell her.’
Khalad leaned back on his elbows with a broad grin. ‘You’re not thinking, Berit. If something’s giving you problems, and it’s hiding out in a cave, you don’t have to go in after it. All you have to do is collapse the entrance. Once it’s trapped inside, you can forget about it. Why don’t you pass this on to Aphrael? Suggest that she tell the others to collapse every cave they come across. She won’t even have to do it herself.’ Then he frowned again.
‘What’s wrong now?’
‘That was too easy,’ Khalad told him, ‘and it doesn’t really help all that much. As big as those beasts are, you could collapse a whole mountain on them, and they could still dig their way out. There’s something else that hasn’t quite come together yet. He held up one hand. ‘I’ll get it,’ he promised. ‘I’ll get it if it takes me all night.’
Berit groaned.
‘I have decided to go with you, Bergsten-Priest,’ Atana Maris replied haltingly in heavily accented Elenic. She had come up from behind their column when they were five days south of Cynestra.
Bergsten suppressed an oath. ‘We’re an army on the move, Atana Maris,’ he tried to explain diplomatically. ‘We wouldn’t be able to make suitable arrangements for your comfort or safety when we stop for the night.’
‘Arrangements?’ She looked at Neran, the translator, with a puzzled expression.
Neran spoke at some length in Tamul, and the tall girl burst out laughing. ‘What’s so funny, Atana?’ Bergsten asked suspiciously.
‘That you would worry about that, Bergsten-Priest. I am a soldier. I can defend myself against any of your men who admire me too much.’
‘Why have you decided to come along with us, Atana Maris?’ Heldin stepped in.
‘I had a thought after you left Cynestra, Heldin-Knight,’ she replied. ‘It has been in my mind to go find Itagne-Ambassador for much weeks now. You are going to the place where he will be, so I will go with you.’
‘We could carry a message to him for you, Atana. You don’t really have to go along.’
She shook her head. ‘No, Heldin-Knight. It is a personal matter between Itagne-Ambassador and me. He was friendly to me when he was in Cynestra. Then he had to go away, but he said to me that he would write letters to me. He did not do that. Now I must go find him to make sure that he is well.’ Her eyes went hard. ‘If he is well, I must know if he does not want to be friendly to me any more.’ She sighed. ‘I hope much that his feelings have not changed. I would not want to have to kill him.’
‘I want no part of this,’ Gahennas said abruptly, standing up and giving the rest of them a reproving look. ‘I was willing to work with you if it meant tweaking Cieronna’s nose, but I’m not going to involve myself in treason.’
‘Who said anything about treason, Gahennas?’ Chacole asked her. ‘There won’t be any real danger to our husband. We’re just going to make it appear that there’s a plot against him—and we’re going to plant enough evidence to lay the plot at Cieronna’s door. If something were to happen to Sarabian, the crown Prince would be elevated to the imperial throne, and Cieronna would be regent. We’ll expose her plot before anything really happens, and she’ll be totally discredited—probably imprisoned—and we won’t have to kow-tow to her any more.’
‘I don’t care what you say, Chacole,’ the jug-eared Tegan Empress declared flatly. ‘You’re putting something in motion that’s treasonous, and I won’t be a party to it. I’m going to keep an eye on you, Chacole. Dismiss your spies and drop this wild scheme at once, because if you don’t—’ Gahennas left it hanging ominously in the air as she turned on her heel and stalked away.
‘That was very clumsy, Chacole,’ Elysoun drawled, carefully selecting a piece of fruit from the silver platter on the table. ‘She might have gone along if you hadn’t gone into such detail. She didn’t have to know that you were actually going to send out your assassins. You weren’t really sure of her yet, and you went too fast.’
‘I’m running out of time, Elysoun.’ Chacole’s tone was desperate.
‘I don’t see the need for all this urgency,’ Elysoun replied, ‘and how much time did you save today? That Tegan hag’s going to be watching your every move now. You blundered, Chacole. Now you’re going to have to kill her.’
‘What?” Chacole’s face went white.
‘Unless you don’t mind losing your head. One word from Gahennas can send you to the block. You aren’t really cut out for men’s politics, dear. You talk too much.’ Elysoun rose lazily to her feet. ‘We can discuss this later,’ she said. ‘I have an enthusiastic young guardsman waiting for me, and I wouldn’t want him to cool off.’ She sauntered away.
Elysoun’s casual attitude concealed a great deal of urgency. Chacole’s Cynesgan upbringing had made her painfully obvious. She had drawn on the hatred of Sarabian’s other wives for Empress Cieronna. That part was clever enough, but the elaborate, involved story of staging an imitation assassination-attempt was ridiculously excessive. Very clearly the attempt was not designed to fail, as Chacole and Torellia so piously proclaimed. Elysoun began to walk faster. She had to get to her husband in order to warn him that his life was in immediate danger.
‘Xanetia!’ Kalten said, starting back in surprise as the Anarae suddenly appeared in their midst that evening, ‘can’t you cough or something before you do that?’
‘It was not mine intent to startle thee, my protector,’ she apologized.
‘My nerves are strung a little tight right now,’ he said.
‘Did you have any luck?’ Mirtai asked.
‘I gleaned much, Atana Mirtai.’ Xanetia paused, collecting her thoughts. ‘The slaves are not closely watched,’ she began, ‘and their supervision is given over to Cynesgan overseers, for such menial tasks are beneath the dignity of the Cyrgai. The desert itself doth confine the slaves. Those foolish enough to attempt escape inevitably perish in that barren waste.’
‘What’s the customary routine, Anarae?’ Bevier asked her.
‘The slaves emerge from their pens at dawn,’ she replied, ‘and, unbidden and unguarded, leave the city to take up their tasks. Then, at sunset, still uncommanded and scarce noticed, they return to the city and to the slave-pens for feeding. They are then chained and locked in their pens for the night to be released again at first light of day.’
‘Some of them are up here in these woods,’ Mirtai noted, peering out through the trees that concealed them. ‘What are they supposed to be doing?’