The Prophet of Lamath, page 8
Chapter Four
"LAMATH!" Bronwynn exploded as they ate the evening meal. "What are we going to Lamath for? You plan to sell me to the King of Lamath yourself?" Her blue eyes snapped angrily. Rosha, seated across the table, found those eyes far more bewitching than his peas. She caught him watching her. "And what are you looking at?" she spat. His peas weren't so bad to look at after all, he decided, and focusing on his plate alone he began to shovel them in.
"We are going to Lamath because that's the safest place to go," Pelman explained, his patience wearing thin.
"How can you say that? They're the ones who were trying to capture me!" "Then they certainly won't be expecting you to come there, will they?" Dorlyth asked quietly, stuffing a chunk of meat into his mouth.
"But why can't I go back to my father?" she demanded of Pelman.
"Because it was someone in your father's castle who made a captive of you in the first place." "How do you know that? You can't prove it." She slammed her spoon down on the table and sat back in her chair, crossing her arms petulantly. She waited for Rosha to look up so she could say something nasty to him, but the young man had better sense than to do that. All she saw was the top of his head and the movement of his fork from plate to mouth and back again.
"I'm going to have to ask you to trust me in this," Pelman said gravely, trying a new tactic with the girl. "I've not betrayed you yet, have I?" Bronwynn wouldn't look at him. She took another bite of meat and chewed it without tasting. "All right," she grumbled, but her fury was still quite evident. She was tired. Tired of running away, tired of meeting new people, tired of trying to get Pelman to notice her the way she wanted him to. She was also tired of this simple food. She liked variety in her diet, and was used to delicacies from the kitchens of a King. This all tasted bland. And she resented, too, the way the savage youth across from her was stuffing it in. She pushed the plate away, and folded her arms again.
"Better eat," Pelman said in as kindly a way as possible.
"I'm tired of your telling me what to do! I am heir to the throne of Chaomonous and am fully capable of managing my own life!" She jumped up from her seat and stomped toward the door. There she hesitated and looked back. "If anyone wants me, I'll be with my falcon." Then she was gone.
Pelman gazed angrily after her, missing the snicker Dorlyth and his son exchanged across the table.
"You're going to take her to Lamath, are you?" Dorlyth teased.
"I'm tempted to carry her to Tohn and beg him to take her oft my hands." "She's still a girl, my friend. Keep reminding yourself. Do you really expect anything different from Talith's daughter?" Pelman said nothing, deciding he would enjoy his dinner regardless of the conversation. Dorlyth waited for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Rosha and I have talked this over, Pelman, and we've agreed. You're going to need help handling this lady." Pelman looked up at Dorlyth, suspicion written in his knitted eyebrows. "You said yourself the lad was ready. I'm sending Rosha with you." Pelman grimaced, then pleaded, "Already I'm burdened with a predatory Princess! Would you force a love-struck lad on me as well?" "Love-struck he may be," Dorlyth said, watching Rosha's face flush once again, "but you've watched him practice. He's a formidable swordsman, as you've said yourself." "But the two together-!" "-may help keep one another in line. Pelman, I'm sending the boy not for his own sake alone. I send him for you as well." "You think I may need a swordsman." "Yes. Oh, not in the Mar, certainly-a powershaper has no more need of a warrior than he does of a flint. But you are not always a powershaper, Pelman, and you travel to Lamath." "Where my actions are suspect?" Pelman asked, smiling grimly.
"Where your actions are confusing, to say the least. You've said yourself you have no way of knowing who you might be there or what you might do! I send my son with you only because I can't go myself." "You may find you need him here. Who can say what might happen next?" "I've made my choices, old friend. I wish him to travel with you. Rosha!" Dorlyth said, turning to his son.
"Yes, F-father?" "Go. Prepare yourself to ride with Pelman." "I'm al-r-ready r-ready," the boy grinned.
"Oh. Well then-go prepare some more." "W-why don't you j-just tell me to leave?" Rosha chuckled.
"All right, I will. Leave!" The boy hauled himself out of his chair, shook his bead good-naturedly, and left the room.
"On his way to the aviary I'll wager," Pelman muttered.
"Pelman," Dorlyth began with an intensity that demanded his friend's attention, "it's time for the boy. Take him with you." "But what if war should come to Dorlyth's castle-" "Especially if war comes to this keep do I want him with you!" "Oh," Pelman nodded.
"Teach him, Pelman. I've taught him everything I know-but that's not enough. He's more than I was. He'll be worth something-if he lives." "Dorlyth-I don't understand. I'm going to Lamath. I don't know what I will become there-I can't be trusted even with myself. And yet you want me to protect the boy?" "No!" Dorlyth thundered, frowning. "I want you to teach the boy. If I thought anyone could protect him, I'd keep him here. No one can. But it is possible to teach him. When he leans-I wager he'll protect not only himself, but you and the girl as well." "What is it you want me to teach-" Pelman began, but Dorlyth raised a hand to stop him.
"Let him travel with you, Pelman. That's all the teaching I ask you to give." Dorlyth jumped to his feet. "If you're leaving early we'd best get to business. I believe you promised me a game before you left?" Pelman stood slowly and looked around the hall. It was a relaxed group of guards and freemen who conversed in the warmth of their Lord's hospitality. He longed for the freedom to linger. Well, he would enjoy the evening, at least. "If you're so anxious to be beaten again, let's get to it." Once again the council chamber of the King of Chaomonous was filled with the coughing and shuffling of a crowd of advisors. Few were ever asked for advice- none dared to volunteer any. But the King was no less a player than Pelman, and he enjoyed his sizable captive audience. It meant that Talith kept few secrets, but the King seemed to accept that as a part of the natural order. Of course, others knew everything he said and did. He was the King; they were supposed to know. It rarely crossed his mind that this lack of secrecy could prove dangerous to him. Yet perhaps Talith was not as foolish as some believed him, for he realized his enemies would always be able to ferret out his secrets, whatever he did. Why shouldn't his loyal advisors know them as well? Kherda, exchequer of the royal treasury, nervously watched as Talith paced the dais. Perhaps the King could afford to share his secrets, but Kherda could not. To be caught in conspiracy with the King's mistress would cost him his head. If the King should discover he had aided in the kidnap of Bronwynn-Kherda hated to imagine the torments Talith might invent for him. And Kherda genuinely expected to be discovered any day. He could not escape the conviction that Ligne was just using him, and that soon she would discard him as being of no further value to her. Yet each time he was with the woman he found himself agreeing to yet another ridiculously dangerous assignment, simply to win a smile from those lips. And if Kherda feared her turning on him, he feared more the result of failing her. At times like this Kherda wished he had just stayed in his vaults with the money.
He clenched his notes with both hands, trying to draw some security from them. They had been prepared long in advance-notes regarding the expenses involved in mobilizing a mighty nation for war. His figures told how many warriors could be drawn from each province within the nation, and how many could be impressed into service from the conquered lands to the south. They told what available ships of the merchant fleets could be quickly transformed into troop carriers. They listed foodstuffs available to feed an army, and the arms on hand to equip it for battle. Kherda had even taken the liberty of suggesting a possible strategy for invading Lamath, though he hadn't a hope that the King would really consider it. Kherda had taken great pains to plan an invasion that would insure the maximum loss of Chaon men and equipment.
For what was really of most importance to Kherda was not this set of notes he clutched so tightly, but that other set of notes, hidden safely within the King's own treasure house, that plotted the overthrow of Talith's government. While the King fought a wasteful war with Lamath, a small army organized by Kherda under Ligne's prodding would march into Chaomonous and assume control. Ligne would open the palace to this conquering troop, and with little or no bloodshed at all Kherda would rule the mightiest nation in the world! Gradually then he would begin to shut off the supplies flowing north. By the time Talith realized the trick, his army would be so overextended and undersupplied he would never be able to recover. Kherda expected him to lay siege to the city, but by that time the capital would be so well stocked and so well defended Talith would never recapture it. Then, of course, there was Ligne's assassin. When the time came, Talith would be cut down.
Kherda didn't know himself who this assassin was- Ligne had chosen not to share that information with him. As a result, he feared everyone. Should Ligne choose to get rid of him, now that the plan was so neatly laid, the knife could come at him from any direction.
Kherda saw Joss watching him from across the room. Since the night of Bronwynn's kidnap the Chief of Security had been eyeing him that way. He struggled to wipe the anxious look from his face, and slowly placed his notes on the lectern in front of him. Did Joss read thoughts? He decided to clear his mind completely of plans for the coup. Perhaps he would survive all this.
"Then you've learned nothing!" the King was screaming. This was directed to his Lord. of the Dungeon, a large, slow-moving fellow who hid a razor-keen mind under a facade of oafishness.
"No, Sire, not a thing. I'm sorry. Sire." "Sorry!" the King exploded, and the heavy-built warden took a step back and held up his hands.
"They all claim they knew nothing of the kidnap until after it occurred. Said they'd been kept completely in the dark by other members of their family. Isn't that what they told you. Joss?" He turned his head toward the General, directing the King's eyes there as well. It pained Joss to see how successfully the warder had shifted the responsibility.
"Well, Joss?" the King snapped.
"That's what each has said. And I begin to believe them." "What?" "They all hold to their story with great integrity, even in the face of torture. I must believe they are telling the truth, for some would gladly have confessed, had they known anything to tell. None has revealed any knowledge whatsoever of the events surrounding the kidnap." "It's that family pride, that clan unity!" the King raged, pacing the dais.
"Perhaps-but I doubt it," Joss said firmly. The King rewarded him with a scathing stare, but Joss went on. "They claim to have been betrayed by their elder in Lamath. It seems there is some factionalism even in the trading houses." "If that were so, who took my daughter?" Before Joss could reply, the King answered himself with a flourish of his hand. "I know! I know what you'll say. That somewhere in this assembly of advisors there lurks a traitor." Joss sighed quietly as Talith gestured over the heads of the rows of counselors. The King pointed one out. "Does that look like the face of a turncoat?" The man who owned the face in question sought to look as decent and innocent as possible. "Does that?" Talith pointed to another. "Does this?" The King had gripped Kherda's chin and now squeezed his cheeks, and Kherda felt very faint. Joss half smiled at Kherda's discomfort, but remained attentive to the King. "These are my people, Joss," the King said grandly, loosing Kherda, who promptly melted over the lectern as Talith turned away. "I trust them. They are privy to every decision I make." Suddenly Talith's expression turned black. "So don't even imply conspiracy, unless you have specific accusations to make!" Joss nodded curtly and replied, "I have none at this time, my Lord. I will continue to seek the information you desire." "Do that. And increase your surveillance along our borders with Lamath. I want to know their army better than their generals do!" "You're planning war?" Kherda asked quietly. "I'm always planning war, you stupid banker! I want to see Jagd!" "He waits outside-" Kherda began.
"I know he waits outside," the King snapped. "I sent for him myself! Do you think I don't know what's going on in my own palace?" Kherda turned very pale.
"Jagd!" The doors flew open, and the guard began, "Jagd of Uda, to see-" "I know all that! Let him in!" The guard's spear clattered to the floor, and he scrambled to pick it up while Jagd brushed past him. "There you are, my friend." The King smiled, and he seated himself on the throne that crowned the platform. "Sit here, and tell me the news." Jagd sat in the chair to the King's right, and began to speak quietly to him. Kherda leaned forward to hear. "My Lord, the news is serious." "Bronwynn?" the King yelped anxiously. "No, my Lord," Jagd said quickly. "I know nothing at all of that situation. I have a caravan passing Dragonsgate tomorrow carrying messages of inquiry to my colleagues there. Of course we have exchanged messenger birds, but it is difficult to tie a large document to the leg of a little blue flyer. All I know is that Pezi's column arrived safely at Ognadzu holdings in Lamath, and that he immediately left for the capital. I assume the girl was with him." Jagd watched the King's face for Talith's reaction. It was slight, but significant. There was a clenching of the jaw, and Talith's right hand formed a fist. Jagd went on. "The troubling news is this. My fellows have observed great troop movements in Lamath. There are growing concentrations of warriors along Lamath's southern border." Joss looked sharply at the wrinkled little merchant, while Talith looked just as sharply at Joss.
"Why haven't I been told of this?" the King roared. "Because I knew nothing of it," Joss responded.
"Nor am I sure I believe it!" "Gentlemen," Jagd said quietly, "please let me explain. These are very late troop movements, and the news has only this afternoon come to me. As you know, we merchants are often able to see and hear things government agencies have no way of discovering." Talith and Joss both resented this dig so characteristic of a merchant, but they knew, too, that it was true. Neither replied.
"It is to your advantage that I feel your cause so strongly," Jagd continued. "When you are backed by a merchant house, your intelligence problems are cared for. All that remains is the organization of fleets and battalions." "I take it, then, that you counsel war," Talith said quietly.
"What other course is there?" Jagd asked. Kherda's heart leapt into his throat. This merchant was playing right into his hands. Unless of course Ligne had already- "And my little girl? What of her?" Talith growled.
Jagd shrank down in his chair and shrugged helplessly. "I'll do all I can. But don't you see that Lamath is simply baiting you by stealing your daughter? They obviously feel themselves strong enough to conquer you, or they would not have troubled with so careful a plot." "Lamath!" Talith shouted, and on his lips the word became a curse. He stood and paced a moment, then pointed at Jagd. "It's that Pelman who has planned this! He's an agent of Lamath, I know he is!" Jagd's eyes glowed. Obviously Talith hated the player. Perhaps Pelman's interference could somehow be turned to an advantage. "I do know this," Jagd intoned quietly. "When Pezi reached his uncle's house in Lamath-Pelman was no longer with him." "That's it! He is masterminding this whole plot against me! Why, even now he is probably moving brigades into position for a mountain invasion! Kherda!" "Yes, my Lord." "I want a list of every available militia unit we can bring under arms! I want every merchant vessel outfitted with battle rams and grappling hooks, with crews of trained marines posted to each! I want supplies to feed, clothe, and arm the greatest fighting force to march since the days of the last great rebellion!" The audience of counselors leaned forward in their seats to watch the climax of the King's speech, and Talith rewarded them with a worthy performance. Legs spread wide in a wrestler's stance, he raised a fist to the ceiling and followed it with his eyes. "I am a man of peace. But the throne of Chaomonous is a sacred trust, and an heir to that throne is the spirit of the golden land itself! Shall I stand idly by while the spirit of my nation is stolen away in the night? No! Let Lamath throw its best at me, I will have my Bronwynn back! To war! Any man who pleads for peace is no Chaon!" The audience burst into wild applause, and the King nodded his head slightly to show his appreciation of their support.
Kherda gathered his papers together and spread them on the lectern for the sixth time. His relief knew no bounds.
Pelman patted the powerful flanks of Minaliss and rubbed the animal's ears. "Seems rested enough," he said.
Dorlyth grunted. "Good horse. Merchants usually ride the best. You have provisions enough?" Pelman looked at the packhorse, heavy-laden with food and goods, and grinned. "No room to carry anything else." Dorlyth waved his hand, dismissing this contribution.
"Just want you to be prepared." Pelman reached out and put a hand on each of Dorlyth's shoulders. "You'll do as I've asked?" "Let me see. I'm to go on about my business until Tohn arrives. When he comes I welcome him like an old friend and let him inspect the keep, the village, and the entire surrounding area. I delay him by making him stay for a feast and then I point him toward the south." "What I'm asking is, will you do it?" "Of course," Dorlyth said, smiling. "You don't think I want to get involved in this business, do you?" "Just see that you don't." "And as for my son-" Dorlyth hesitated.
"Yes?" "Just teach him-anything. Tell him your funny tales about the foundation of the kingdoms." "You always laugh when I speak of that," Pelman smiled.
"So will he, if he has any sense. But tell him all the same." "T-t-tell me what?" Rosha asked, coming up behind them.
Dorlyth turned around to get a good look at the boy. He was dressed warmly against the chill of the morning in a fur cap and warm bearskin coat. He carried the ever-present greatsword over his shoulder. Dorlyth clapped him on the arms, and forced a grin. "What's in here?" he asked, thumping his son's chest.
"The c-ch-chain mail vest, and it's h-h-hot!" "You wear it to bed, boy!" Dorlyth ordered.
"You gave him your vest?" Pelman asked.
"Why should I need it?" Dorlyth shrugged. "I'm to invite my enemies to a feast, remember? Ahhh!" he smiled, looking past the other two. "The lady." "I don't look much like a lady," Bronwynn growled through teeth clenched against the cold. "And I don't feel much like a lady, either. It's still dark outside. Why are we leaving now?" "For just that reason," Pelman said. "Here, a gift from Dorlyth." Pelman wrapped a furry cloak around the shivering girl's shoulders.
