Kade was not amused, obviously. Her niece had been behaving in unladylike fashion. “When I was having tea with her Majesty—”
Inos spluttered again. Memories of Kade’s pompous little tea parties at Krasnegar and the awesome dowagers’ rituals in Kinvale blended into an image of her aunt sipping tea with a djinn sorceress, and together provoked a typhoon of coughing. As soon as she could breathe she said, “Then you have made better use of your day than I have!”
“Possibly. She showed me many things in her looking glass.” Kade sighed as if she were discussing the latest outrage in dress styles. “I really had never conceived how useful sorcery could be! Imagine—here we are, in faraway Zark, and yet she could show me what was happening almost anywhere! Kinvale, for instance! We saw the duke supervising the bedding out. It’s springtime in Kinvale. Yes, a looking glass is a wonderful device. Everyone should have one!” She considered her own words, then amended them. ”Persons of quality, of course.”
“And Krasnegar?”
Her aunt’s face darkened. “We didn’t . . . We were too late. The funeral must have been held yesterday.”
Inos blinked, and nodded. “And the imps?”
“They’re still there. They look as if they’re settling in to stay.” A rare expression of anger showed on Princess Kadolan’s normally convivial face. ”They’ve turned the great hall into a barracks! They’re using merchants’ stores as stables!”
Inos leaned back against the cushions, wincing. If Arakkaranians used smaller bathtubs, they could fill them faster. Raucous parrots swooped by again.
“And what happens now? When does Kalkor arrive with his jotnar? What—”
“I could hardly cross-examine her Majesty!”
“Of course.” Inos sighed. Kade would keep the tale going all evening.
“Queen Rasha did confirm what we suspected, though. She can’t just evict the legionaries for you. Only the warlock of the east is allowed to use sorcery on Imperial soldiery.”
That closed off one path to sanity. “I see. And a warlock is stronger than a mere sorceress?”
Her aunt cleared her throat warningly, her we-may-beoverheard noise. ”Their respective strengths would not matter, dear. Any sorcerer breaking that rule incurs the emnity of the Four combined. That’s part of the Protocol. ”
“But the thanes can still use force, when they arrive?”
Kade pulled a face at the thought of violence. “Oh, yes. Force is mundane. No rules apply. I mean, that’s what force means, doesn’t it? But while the imp soldiers are the domain of EastWarlock Olybino, of course, is an imp himself—similarly, jotnar are reserved to the warlock of the north, and she’s a goblin. I mean the warden happens to be a witch at the moment, Bright Water. Not all jotnar, just the Nordiand raiders.”
Inos had never heard her aunt lecture on politics before. It was a staggering development, but it must mean that she had won the confidence of Queen Rasha. She had therefore put her day to much better use than Inos had; no wonder she was so pleased with herself! However muddled the telling might be, the facts would be correct, for although Kade believed that wellbred ladies should appear scatterbrained, she could apply her wits well enough when she wanted to. Then the significance sank in.
Inos sat up straight, heedless of her aches. “You mean that imp versus jotunn means one warden against another?”
“Well . . . not just any common brawl, dear, but if the Nordland fleet clashes with the Imperial army, that does seem to be one possible result. Seapower and landpower. The sultana says that this has happened very rarely since Emine set up the Protocol, only once or twice in all history. It could involve the wardens. It could even split the wardens, two against two. That apparently can produce all kinds of disasters. The jotnar aren’t there yet, of course. It may be a long time before their ships can reach Krasnegar. Queen Rasha says she could disperse any other army with no trouble—a good blizzard would not be difficult to arrange, she says. But in this case she dare not try to influence either side; not the imps there now, nor the jotunn raiders if they come. They’re both out of bounds for her. Like dragons, she said.”
“God of Turds!”
“Inos! Really!”
“Sorry. But this is awful! This is terrible! Remember when Andor brought the news to Kinvale, about Father? We talked? We wondered if the town would accept me? We thought neighbor might quarrel with neighbor. Then the imp army moved in, and it wasn’t just neighbor against neighbor, it was thane against proconsul, raider against legionary, Impire against Nordland. Now you tell me it’s warlock against witch?”
“It may come to that,” Kade said cautiously. “The Four may not even be aware of the problem yet, of course.”
“Who would win?”
“Impossible to say, apparently. Bright Water is very old, and . . . unpredictable, I’m told. Olybino is quite young by sorcerer standards, her Majesty says, but he has a bad temper and may do foolish things on impulse.”
“That’s wonderful news! Just wonderful!”
“And the other two may side with one or the other.”
“Or split? Bad, bad, bad!” Inos noticed Zana hovering in the doorway, meaning that her tub was ready. But baths now seemed much less important than they had before. An account of the occult politics of the Impire—of all Pandemia—was very important indeed. Even Doctor Sagorn had complained how hard it was to obtain information about magic; the sorcerous did not normally take the mundane into their confidence. Kade had won a tremendous victory! The information could not be confirmed, but what reason could a sorceress ever have for lying? “Tell me about the other two wardens?”
Kade nodded almost imperceptibly to show she had been expecting the question. ”Both warlocks. South is an elf, Lith’rian. Queen Rasha was, er, rather disparaging about . . . about elves. Usually there are two witches and two warlocks, but West died about a year ago, and a warlock took her place. Zinixo, a young dwarf. An extremely powerful sorcerer, the sultana says, and something of an unknown quantity.”
“Died?”
“Was killed.”
Inos thought for a moment. There was must be more, but her aunt was apparently reluctant to volunteer any of her own conclusions.
“So what does her Majesty recommend?”
“She suggests we wait and see, of course. The imps may flee. The jotnar may or may not come. Hub may or may not interfere—the imperor, the Four . . . Meanwhile, we are welcome guests. She has invited me to visit her again tomorrow, and of course you—”
“I am going hunting again tomorrow.”
There was still quite enough light to show Kade’s disapproval. It would probably have shown up in total darkness. “How many other ladies will be there?”
“None, I expect.”
“Inos, you are being very unwise! Very! Even in the Impire, a lady would not go hunting without some female companionship. Here in Zark they have even stricter—”
“It’s all right, Aunt. I’m one of the boys now.” Gingerly Inos started to rise.
“I am quite serious, Inos! Customs differ, and you have no idea what sort of impression you may be making.”
“So they won’t invite me to their dinner parties again, you mean?”
“So they may think you a complete wanton!”
What exactly was an incomplete wanton? How could she possibly get into trouble going hunting with a gang of princes? “What did the sultana think?”
Point to Inosolan.
Kade pursed her lips. “She was amused,” she admitted. Rasha, of course, while a queen and a sorceress, was emphatically not a lady, and Kade must be having trouble reconciling that discrepancy.
“What is Rasha’s interest in my . . . our affairs? Just aiding a poor defenseless woman?”
The question sprang another wanting cough. “I ‘m sure that’s part of it. The best hope, of course, is that cool heads will prevail. Surely Krasnegar is not worth a war to either the imperor or the thanes. The Four may simply agree to put you properly on your throne. That would be the status quo, as near as possible.”
So Inos was a pawn in a much vaster game than she had ever dreamed. If the warlocks themselves were involved, then anything might happen. Krasnegar might be melted down, or moved to Zark, or turned into chocolate pudding.
Krasnegar! She was homesick for Krasnegar!
She drained the last of the lemonade and pushed herself painfully to her feet. She certainly had enough to think about while she soaked.
This days’s madness:
Yesterday This Day’s Madness did prepare;
Tomorrow’s Silence, Triumph, or Despair:
Drink! for you know not whence you came, nor why:
Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where.
— Fitzgerald, The Rubaryat of Omar Khayyam (§74, 1879)
THREE
Some little talk
1
“No people?” Thinal said. “You’re sure about no people?”
“No, I’m not sure!” Rap retorted. “It’s right at my limits. I’m sure about the huts. I don’t think there are any people. None on the path, anyway. And what choice do we have?”