The pirates had succeeded in getting only five ships to sea. Hearst had wanted to let them go, but seven of the ships captured in the battle on the quays had set out before he could gain control of the confusion. In an eighth ship, Hearst had followed.
At sea, it had seemed the better seamanship of the pirates must take them to safety. Then they had passed a pod of whales. Miphon had used his powers of control to make the whales attack Elkor Alish's ships, with devastating results.
With three ships sunk, Hearst had tried to persuade Miphon to let the others escape. But Miphon, intoxicated by success – and well Hearst knew that enthusiasm -had refused. Hearst had broken Miphon's concentration by throwing a bucket of seawater over him, and had then signalled the ships under his command to withdraw toward Androlmarphos, leaving Alish's surviving ships to pick up the men from the craft sunk by whales.
So Alish, as far as Hearst knew, had escaped. Hearst had let him go. And why not? Alish could do little damage now. Under Alish's leadership, his troops had lost the city of Androlmarphos and the fleet they had used to attack it; most of the men of his command were dead or had been taken prisoner. It was not the kind of record that would attract many enthusiastic followers.
All things considered, nobody had gained anything from the struggle for Androlmarphos. Men, ships and horses had been destroyed, together with the greater part of the city's eastern walls, and much good arable land outside the city was now sheeted over with stone. However, Hearst had obtained this trophy – the multi-faceted black gem with flame dancing inside it.
He had found it when inspecting the ruins of the pyramid east of Androlmarphos; it had been lying beside the golden coffin of the wizard emperor who had been buried there. Miphon had named the gem for what it was: a key to the tower of Ebber. Farfalla had insisted that it be thrown away, saying it was known that the tower was haunted by fearful danger; Hearst had kept the gem, mostly because his pride told him he had yielded to Farfalla's judgment too many times already.
He finished his meagre meal and left his quarters. In the rooms and corridors of Farfalla's palace, servants were cleaning up, repairing the damage done by the festivities. He was right: the holiday was over. And Hearst knew that soon he must go south, bearing the death-stone to the Castle of Controlling power. Having used it himself, he felt personally responsible for seeing that it was decently laid to rest.
He decided that today his first job would be to see how the wounded were faring. All had been transported to Selzirk in the red bottle or the green, and Miphon was supervising their welfare. Miphon would not have been distracted by the festivities, as Hearst knew – but he had allowed himself to neglect every single one of his responsibilities.
He still had a headache; his mind was limping along on crutches. He resisted the temptation to go and seek out a drink, suspecting that one would lead to another; Miphon had given him a severe lecture on drink recently, and Hearst, grudgingly, was beginning to think the wizard might have a point.
Late in the afternoon, Hearst approached the private apartments of the kingmaker Farfalla. A solitary guard stood aside to let him enter; no doorway in all of Selzirk was barred to the city's hero, Morgan Hearst.
Farfalla was sitting reading a pile of reports when Hearst found her. She looked up, smiled. He did not return her smile.
'Morgan,' said Farfalla. 'How good to see you.'
Hearst said nothing.
'Our interrogators have been at work while the city indulged itself. Look – we've charts which show the Greater Teeth in detail, and all the defences of the largest harbour on Stokos.'
Farfalla held out the charts for Hearst's inspection. He did not move, but stared at her, his grey eyes cold and hard.
'All right,' said Farfalla. 'Say what you have to.' 'You know what I've got to say,' said Hearst. 'Then it won't hurt me to hear it, will it?' 'No,' said Hearst, i suppose it won't.' And suddenly he felt tired, very tired, and sat down. 'Would you like some wine?' said Farfalla. it might help,' said Hearst, despite his earlier resolutions.
Farfalla poured amber-coloured wine into glasses of cut crystal. The wine had a strange, penetrating, flowery smell.
'This comes from Vasserway, far to the north, in the Ravlish Lands,' said Farfalla.
'The wine or the crystal?' said Hearst. 'Both,' said Farfalla. 'You know we trade with the world.'
That, it must be said, was an exaggeration. Nevertheless, Hearst said: i know it.'
He watched Farfalla sip her wine, then reached out and took her glass from her hand.
'Are you afraid of poison?' said Farfalla, picking up the glass she had prepared for Hearst, and draining it. 'There. Safe, see? What kind of person do you think I am?'
'A liar!' said Hearst. 'I know that much, at least. I found the messenger, you see. The wounded man who brought the message saying the Rice Empire was invading the Harvest Plains.'
'How did you recognise him?" 'Nobody commands soldiers without developing a good head for faces. I recognised him. You know I told Miphon to make a special point of seeing to him, but Miphon was told he was dead.'
'Of course. He would have seen straight away that the man had only been recently wounded. You'd have known the same if you'd been the one to clean and dress his wound. For our story to work -'
T had to believe he'd spent days on horseback riding all the way from the border. So you told your lie. But why, Farfalla?'
'You were talking of a siege.' said Farfalla. 'How long would that have lasted? Androlmarphos could have been resupplied from the sea. To take the city, you'd have had to storm the walls and light for possession street by street, house by house. The city would have been destroyed, its people with it. I did what I had to.'
'You lied to me,' said Hearst.
'Considered as an instrument of state, a lie, unlike a sword, draws no blood.'
'Ohio died because of your lies.' 'So he died. Someone had to die.' 'He was my friend!'
'And does that make you think you have a monopoly on suffering?' said Farfalla. 'Do you know what I suffer? Do you know what I have to go through? 'I didn't want this. I never wanted this. I grew up in Kelebes, a potter's daughter. Do you know once I was chosen, I could never see my family again? That's the law. To secure the equitable government of the Harvest Plains. To protect against nepotism. Fine phrases, aren't they? Just think for one moment what that law means to the kingmaker.
'My sons are soldiers. Do you think that's what I would have chosen for them? The law decided their destiny, Morgan. I'm the ruler of the greatest nation in Argan, but I'm a prisoner of the law. You've told me how you've suffered, Morgan, but you're not the only one who's suffered.
'You can't imagine the burdens of power – being responsible for the life or death of an entire empire. You can't imagine the difficulties of government when there's so many ready to take advantage of the slightest weakness, the slightest failing. I think -'
'Don't talk to me of the burdens of power,' said Hearst. 'Power is its own reward – the greatest reward known. There's not a single person in your empire who doesn't envy you, not one who doesn't wish they could be you.'
'Do you really believe that?' said Farfalla. 'Yes,' said Hearst.
'So you'd take that power if I offered it to you.' 'Sure, sure,' said Hearst. 'On a slice of the moon garnished with Stardust.' 'I'm serious!'
'Then you're seriously ill. Is it that time of month?' She slapped him. Hard. Three times. 'You dogshit barbarian!' she said.
'I won't deny my nature,' said Hearst, wiping a trickle of blood from his nose. 'I'm clearly not the person to be offered a throne – not even in jest.'
'Morgan, I wasn't joking. And I don't joke now. My land needs a hero. To the north, Runcorn. To the south, Stokos. The enemy's strength is broken. Now is the time to strike. And, while we're about it, to clean up the Rice Empire.'