Finally Aquint lifted a hand. "Enough. That's good. Do you know a lot of songs?"
"A fair number, I guess," Deo said, looking a little confused. "Why?"
Aquint ignored the question. "Can you sing?" he asked.
Deo frowned, then shook his head and sniffed a small laugh. "Actually, no. That they couldn't teach me, no matter how hard they tried. But if you want me to make noises like a wounded dog I can do that." He gave Aquint a self-deprecating smile.
The man had a certain charm to him, Aquint acknowledged. He turned to Radstac. "Can you?"
"Can I what?" she said.
"Can you sing?" Aquint asked sharply, though he didn't really imagine that this woman, so obviously built for battle, would have wasted her time learning to sing songs.
Radstac's eyes were almost free of color. They bore into Aquint a moment, then, quite suddenly and unexpectedly, she drew in a breath and sang out.
Moonlit, your face becomes another, A memory sweeter, now torn asunder. Aquint blinked. Deo, too, was visibly taken aback. Radstac's voice was surprisingly gentle. Into that brief verse she had poured a tenderness that reached Aquint's heart. It was a skilled voice, nicely modulated.
"That was... impressive," he finally said.
"Radstac," Deo said, "I had no idea—"
"You don't really want to know everything about me, do you?" she retorted. "How boring would that be?"
Aquint again noticed the connection between the two. Yes, these two were definitely lovers, whatever else they were to each other.
"Now," Aquint said, pleased with the unanticipated success of this, "you play something on the stringbox, and you sing along."
They consulted briefly with one another, settled on something they both knew, and launched into it. It was a somewhat solemn tune, sounding a lot like the traditional ballads Aquint had heard all his life. That was perfect.
He put his hands together, applauding.
"This is outstanding." He smiled.
They halted the song. They were both looking at him, perplexed, surely wondering what all this was about.
"This is how it's going to work," Aquint said. "You two are going to go around the city, playing and singing. Our Minstrel, the rebel, was probably spreading dissent the same way. I want you to concoct some anti-Felk songs. Just take some other song you already know and swap in some new words. I've written down some ideas for you. Here."
He handed over a couple pages of fragmentary lyrics that he had cobbled together in a cafe after leaving the apartment. He was no poet, but the words put across the point.
"I want these new songs to vilify the Felk," Aquint continued. "I want them full of protest and rebellion. The people of Callah have no love for their conquerors. But I want to draw out those Callahans that have gone to the extreme and thereby made life tougher for everybody else. I want them to rally around these songs."
Deo appeared to be considering the scheme from every angle. "And the garrison won't give us any trouble?" he asked.
Aquint barked a short laugh. "We're Internal Security. We don't have to worry about any of that. I could order Colonel Jesile himself arrested, if he was guilty of treason."
Deo and Radstac both looked impressed.
"Look, you two were smart enough to get yourselves away from the fighting," Aquint said. "Now I'm counting on you to go on being smart, and clever, and wily. You're going to be a pair of... of rebel bards! And, hopefully, you'll draw the Broken Circle to you. After all, who doesn't like a good song?"
Radstac asked, "Do you still want me to fake that limp? I've been practicing it." She demonstrated with a few lurching steps. It was convincing.
"And do you shtill want me to shpeak like thish?" Deo asked, imitating the speech patterns of an imbecile.
"Yes," Aquint said to him. "You're not the one singing. Sometimes a simpleton will have prowess in unexpected areas, like with a musical instrument. Radstac, keep up that limp. We don't want anyone thinking you're working for the Felk. Your ruses will allay suspicions. All I want you to worry about right now is putting together a repertoire of persuasive revolutionary songs. Got it?"
"Yes," they both said.
"Good. Get to work." Aquint exited the room. It was a somewhat unconventional plan but Abraxis had, after all, given him full leeway. All the mage wanted were results, and Aquint was going to have to produce some, soon.
The plan was also very likely going to encourage rebellious thought in Callahans that might not otherwise have considered the notion of rising up against their Felk oppressors. But Aquint decided not to worry right now about such fine points.
DARDAS (2)
"Come in, my dear." He smiled, gesturing her into the pavilion.
Raven looked comfortable in Vadya's body as she came inside, and Vadya's body looked good in the officer's uniform. She pulled closed the tent flap. Outside was Weisel's special guard, always on duty.
"Care for a drink?" he asked, solicitously.
"Thank you, General Weisel," Raven said.
Dardas chuckled soundlessly to himself. This was, of course, still Weisel's body. But, for the moment at least, it was Dardas who once more had complete control of it. He had discovered that when Weisel slept, he, Dardas, could assume command of the body. It had taken some practice, but now he had full power. Even now, pouring a drink for Raven and one for himself, he was aware of Weisel's slumbering consciousness.
Weisel had control while he was awake in the daytime. But the night, it seemed, belonged to Dardas. He was pleased with this new development.
Today, the army had moved in around Trael, surrounding it. The city had no defenses that could begin to stand against the Felk forces. The elite guerrilla squad had been Far Moved inside the city. Their goal was to take Trael's ruling council hostage and force a surrender. By morning, Trael would probably do just that.
It was a rather unassertive way to fight a war, Dardas thought. But it was what Weisel wanted.
"I appreciate you reporting here so late," Dardas said.
"I am happy to be of service, General... anytime." A small sultry smile just curled her lips as she sipped her drink.
Dardas eyed her. He had learned that this Vadya, whose body this was, was a courtesan back in Felk. She certainly was a beautiful woman. Yet, Dardas still had the instinctive impression that this was Raven, the plump girl from the Academy who had put herself bravely in harm's way to save Weisel from assassination.
"How do you like being an officer?" he asked.
"I am still absorbing that fact, frankly."
Dardas laughed. "You'll get used to it. Remember, as chief of Military Security you'll have a kind of ecumenical authority."
They had reviewed the details of the new position last evening, while Weisel was still awake. Military Security was going to be for this army what Abraxis's Internal Security Corps was for the rest of the empire.
"You understand that I don't wish to create a climate of fear among my troops," Dardas said.
"Of course, General. We discussed that at length," Raven said.
"But I do need to know if anyone in the ranks is discontent or disloyal enough to try to kill me."
"In general, you're very popular with the troops, according to my own observations," she said.
"The regular troops, yes." Dardas nodded. "But what about among the wizards?"
"Actually, from what I've seen and heard traveling with that company of magicians, they respect you. You don't treat them with the same severe discipline that we all knew at the Academy."
Dardas had learned from Raven just what conditions were like at that magic training school, where students had to swear constant allegiance to Lord Matokin and were encouraged to denounce each other for any disloyalties. Whatever else such treatment did, it had the effect of turning out paranoid, anxious magicians.