“Certainly,” said Rurik. “To a neutral observer, outside the bloody compass of war, to one who has not been in the field, who has not suffered, some such solution appears obvious, even necessitated. But you do not know the Calasalii and the Farnichi, the bad blood, the history of animosity, the century of strife, the hatred, the tradition, how they view one another.”
“The empire intervened,” said Julian.
“Yes,” said Rurik.
“At the invitation of the Farnichi,” said Julian.
“As it happens,” said Rurik.
“It is rumored,” said Julian, “that Farnichi gold was involved.”
“I have heard that rumor,” said Rurik.
“And you know, I assume,” said Julian, “that it is true?”
“Who knows?” said Rurik. “It is difficult to say about rumors.”
“And it seems that more than gold was involved,” said Julian.
“Oh?” said Rurik.
“Your enclave is located near Telnar,” said Julian.
“Consider it an embassy,” said Rurik.
“Abetted by the empire,” said Julian, “you crushed the Calasalii.”
“The contribution of the imperial forces were, of course, welcome,” said Rurik.
“But, later,” said Julian, “there was a surreptitious outlawry of the Calasalii, subsequently, suddenly, made public, complete with pervasive seizures and arrests.”
“It was time their outlawry, practiced for a century, was legally recognized and acted on,” said Rurik.
“There would seem, in the view of many, in such a respect,” said Julian, “little to choose from, amongst the Calasalii and the Farnichi.”
“All are entitled to their opinion,” said Rurik.
“Men to mines and quarries,” said Julian, “women to the slave block, the chain and collar.”
“A condign resolution to the inequities of the Calasalii,” said Rurik.
“You have a well-curved slave at your feet,” said Otto.
Cornhair, her legs drawn up, kept her head down, hoping not to be recognized. She had shaken her hair a bit about her face.
Rurik nudged her with the side of his foot, and she whimpered a little, but kept her head down.
Rurik bent down and brushed the hair away from the back of her neck. In this way the silver overcollar was more clearly seen.
“This is a woman once of the Calasalii,” he said.
“I cannot see her well,” said Julian, “but I assume her features are delicate, feminine, and exquisite, slave-acceptable.”
“I find them so,” said Rurik. “Large, gross, plain, masculine women, if collared at all, which is presumably a mistake, for who would want them, are best put in the fields, the kitchens, and laundries.”
“Surely,” said Julian. “The collar is for the most desirable of women.”
“Yes,” said Rurik, “for true women, fit slaves.”
“They need only acknowledge to themselves that they are slaves, fit slaves,” said Julian, “and they will learn themselves, find themselves, and be happy.”
Cornhair, trying to hide her face, trying to keep her body small, trembled.
“She seems frightened,” said Otto.
“She is a slave,”’ said Rurik.
“The outlawry seems to go beyond the simple matter of alliances and the outcomes of battles,” said Julian.
“Perhaps,” said Rurik.
“More gold exchanged hands?” asked Julian.
“Who would know?” asked Rurik.
“I suspect an independent consideration was involved,” said Julian.
“What would lead you to suppose that?” asked Rurik.
“An armed enclave of the Farnichi on Telnaria,” said Julian, “under the command of the Tenth Consul of Larial VII.”
“Proceed, conjecture,” said Rurik, pleasantly.
“I suspect that in exchange for imperial help against the Calasalii, and perhaps, in particular, afterwards, for the outlawry of the Calasalii, more was involved than Farnichi gold.”
“A favor, or favors, perhaps,” suggested Rurik.
“Iaachus, the Arbiter of Protocol, should he be involved in this,” said Julian, “is an extremely clever and, I fear, unscrupulous man.”
“One hears various things,” said Rurik.
“Statecraft is subtle, and occasionally dark,” said Julian, “and sometimes unseen. It is not all broadcast negotiation, open meetings, public bargainings, flags, banners, proclamations, decrees, and such.
Sometimes one acts when there is no appearance of action.”
“And sometimes,” said Otto, regarding Cornhair, “it resides on the point of a knife.”
Cornhair shuddered, her head down. Had she been recognized?
“I am sure,” said Rurik, “my esteemed guests have something in mind.”
“Which doubtless you suspect,” said Julian.
“Surely you do not expect me to respond to what has not been spoken,” said Rurik.
“As the empire abetted the Farnichi, so, too, might the Farnichi be expected to abet the empire,” said Julian.
“Speak,” said Rurik.
“Why are you here?” said Julian. “The motivation is clear. Events precipitate specifics. Iaachus has brought you here to have a tool at readiness, a weapon which might be used in various ways at various times, to have at his disposal a private army, one outside of official channels, one unrelated to familiar resources.”
“Perhaps,” said Rurik.
“The princesses must be recovered,” said Julian.
“I understand,” said Rurik.
49
“Which one do you want?” asked Ingeld.
“Neither,” said Hrothgar.
“Release us!” said Viviana. She spun about, robes whirling, on the rush-strewn, dirt floor of Ingeld’s hall. “Return us to Telnaria!”
Ingeld’s hall, on this world, incidentally, had once been the hall of Ortog, a secessionist Drisriak prince.
“Be patient, Princess,” said Ingeld.
“We are of the royal blood,” said Viviana. “We will never espouse commoners, let alone barbarians. It is unthinkable. Release us!”
“Shall I have their clothing removed?” inquired Farrix, he of the Teragar Borkons, the Long-River Borkons.
“Stay away!” cried Viviana.
“It might make it easier to decide,” said Farrix.
“Neither would bring much on a block,” said Hrothgar.
“We are beautiful, I, in particular,” cried Viviana.
“Sister!” protested Alacida.
“I am going to the stables,” said Hrothgar. “I must tend my horses.”
“Clear your mind, dear brother,” said Ingeld, “of horses, hot bror, falcons, and slaves. We talk here of important things, of power, of worlds.”
“Have your power, and your worlds,” said Hrothgar. “I want a blue sky, a fine morning, fields of green grass, a good horse beneath me, a falcon on my wrist, and game afoot. Then, at the end of the day, give me bror in my cup and a slave in my arms.”
“Barbarian!” said Viviana.
“You know the will of our father, the king,” said Ingeld. “For my part, I would be pleased to give you a hundred horses and a hundred falcons, a barrel of bror, and a hundred slaves. I cannot, in Telnarian law, marry both princesses.”
“You shall marry neither!” said Viviana. “Even now imperial ships rush to rescue us!”
“Our information,” said Ingeld, “is that ships remain in their housings, why should they not, they do not know where to go, and your disappearance is denied. They can do nothing. They are helpless. They must wait for us to contact them.”
“They seek us! They search! They speed to our rescue,” insisted Viviana.
“Your head must be as empty as one of your brother’s rattles,” said Ingeld. “Resources are limited, few, and precious. Surely you are aware of the rationing of resources. In places, a town might be exchanged for a pistol, a city for a rifle and ten charges. Do you think this is a hundred thousand years in the past? Finding you would be more difficult than locating a single grain of sand on a beach a thousand miles in length.”