Different, perhaps, but not better. Frown darkened into scowl. «They have a Videssian mage with them,» he said, releasing the words as if from a mouth full of rotting fish. «He has forereadied charms against many things I might try. Many, aye, but not all.»
Once more, the rhythm of the chant shifted. This time, so did the language: from archaic Videssian, he turned to the Vaspurakaner tongue. Now his eyes brightened, his voice firmed—progress, Maniakes judged.
A moment later, he was able to judge progress for himself. He began to feel… something pass between silver coin and iron sword. He did not think he was feeling it with any of the five ordinary senses. It was more akin, or so he judged, to the current that passed from a healer-priest to the person he was helping: as indescribable as that, and as real.
«We have to do this together,» a voice said from out of the air in front of him. «The delay hurts my men, too—half of them want to go north tomorrow.»
«Get enough of my soldiers over the Cattle Crossing and we'll lead the way up the towers and onto the wall,» another voice replied, apparently from that same empty place.
Maniakes started in surprise. It was not so much at hearing Etzilios and Abivard: he'd required that Bagdasares make him able to hear them. Having the mage succeed though he'd doubted whether success was possible gratified the Avtokrator without astonishing him. What he had not expected, though, was that both the khagan of Kubrat and the marshal of Makuran would be speaking Videssian. What did it say when the Empire's two greatest foes had only its language in common?
«And while they're busy fighting the towers—» Maniakes was surprised again, not having expected to hear a third voice there. But, whether Bagdasares had given him anything to mark it or not, he had an affinity for Tzikas, an affinity of longtime common cause soured into near-murder and endless betrayal. Oh, yes, the two of them were connected.
But what did Tzikas know? What had he been trying to show the Kubratoi when Maniakes almost put a dart through him?
The Avtokrator did not find out. Abivard said, «Get the monoxyla over to us. You know the signal to use to let us know when they're coming?»
«I know the one you gave me,» Etzilios answered. «Why that in particular?»
«Because it—» Abivard undoubtedly went on talking, but Maniakes heard no more. The arket and the hilt of the sword he was holding went hot in his hands. Weapon and coin both fell to the floor, the one with a clatter, the other chiming sweetly from the stone.
Bagdasares staggered slightly, then caught himself. «I crave pardon, your Majesty,» he said. «The wizards warding them became aware that I had threaded my way through their defense, and cut off the thread after me.»
«I wish they hadn't done it right then,» Maniakes said. «If we'd learned what the Kubratoi signal is, our dromons would be waiting to pounce on their one-trunk boats. We'd slaughter them.»
«No doubt you are right,» Bagdasares said. «I promise you. I shall do everything I can to learn what this signal may be. But I cannot do it now; the enemy's wizards almost made me lose a good-sized piece of my soul in the escape.»
«Go rest, then,» Maniakes said. «You look like you need it.» What Bagdasares looked as if he needed was something more than rest. Maniakes said nothing of that, in the hope rest would also restore what else was missing from the Vaspurakaner mage. And, on leaving, Bagdasares did indeed yawn enormously, as if his body, not his spirit, had put in a hard day.
Maniakes waited till Bagdasares was well clear of the room in which he'd worked before muttering a ripe oath. That might not have done him any good, if Bagdasares was listening with senses beyond those mundane five. The Avtokrator cursed again, more ripely yet.
«So close!» Maniakes said, slamming a fist down on a tabletop. Another sentence, two at the most, would have told him what he so desperately wanted—so desperately needed—to learn. Now all be knew was that the Kubratoi would in fact swallow their pride and get help from the men of Makuran, who were more experienced when it came to sieges.
He wished—how he wished!—Etzilios had been too headstrong to share what he hoped would be his triumph with his allies. But Etzilios was too practical for that, worse luck. Trim his beard and take him out of his furs and he would have made a pretty fair Videssian. On that depressing note, Maniakes also left the chamber where Bagdasares had worked his successful spell. If only it had been a little more successful, the Avtokrator thought.
Thrax rose from his prostration, eyeing Maniakes warily. «How may I serve your Majesty?» he asked. The ceremonial of the Grand Courtroom weighed on him, as it was meant to do.
«I summoned you here to make certain you have the fleet at the highest pitch of readiness over the next few days,» Maniakes said from the throne, staring down at the drungarios of the fleet with no expression whatever on his face. The only way he could have sounded more imposing would have been to use the royal we, as Sharbaraz did—probably even when he goes in unto his wives, Maniakes thought, which amused him enough to make him have trouble holding his face still.
«The fleet is always at the highest pitch of readiness, your Majesty,» Thrax said. «If the cockroaches come away from the wall, we'll step on 'em.»
«I know you're ready to fight,» Maniakes said. «That isn't quite what I meant.»
«Well, what did you mean, then?» the drungarios of the fleet asked. A couple of courtiers muttered to one another at the imperfectly respectful way in which he framed the question.
Maniakes felt like muttering, too, but held onto his patience by main force. He knew how Thrax was. Knowing how Thrax was had made him convoke this ceremony. If the drungarios knew ahead of time exactly what he was supposed to do, he would do it, and do it well enough. If taken by surprise, he still might do well– but he also might do anything at all, with no way to guess beforehand whether for good or ill.
«I summoned you here to explain just that,» the Avtokrator answered. «I expect that the Kubratoi will try to send a good many monoxyla over to the west side of the Cattle Crossing to bring back enough Makuraners to man the siege towers against us. Are you with me so far?»
«Aye, your Majesty,» Thrax said confidently. Under that shock of shining silver hair, his bronzed, lined face was a mask of concentration.
«Good.» Maniakes did his best to sound encouraging. Since he hadn't found anyone better than Thrax, he had to work as best he could within the man's limitations. He went on, «Before they sail, they'll signal, to let the Makuraners know they're coming. If we can spot that signal, too, we'll be able to get a running start on them, you might say. Wherever the main body of the fleet is, whether tied up at the piers or on patrol a little way off from the city, you have to be ready to get it out and covering the Cattle Crossing on the instant. Now do you understand what I'm saying?»
«I think so,» the drungarios said. «You're saying you don't only want us ready to fight at a moment's notice, you want us ready to move at a moment's notice, too.»
«That's it! That's perfect!» Maniakes felt like leaping down from the throne and planting a kiss on Thrax's cheek. Only the suspicion that that would fluster the drungarios more than it pleased him kept the Avtokrator in his seat. «Can you do it?»
«Oh, aye, I can, no doubt about that,» Thrax said. «I'm still not sure I see the need, but I can.»
«Seeing the need is my job,» Maniakes said.
«Oh, aye,» Thrax repeated. Unlike a lot of officers, he had no secret ambition to set his fundament on the throne Maniakes occupied. He might well have lacked the imagination to picture himself enjoying the power that would accrue to him on the seat. Cocking his head to one side, he asked, «How will you know what signal the Kubratoi are using?»