Krasnegar and offer safe
conduct to your friend who
wishes to meet with me. The
two of you must come at once to
the temple, unaccompanied. You
will be security for his good
conduct. He knows my hand.
“Someone must have just put it there”” she said, passing it to Shandie. She glanced around” but the infestation of gnomes had dispersed. The yard was almost empty. Deft little fingers going by could easily have slipped the paper in her pocket without her noticing. She had been in a daze anyway. Shandie’s face was as wooden as a log pile.
“Is it his writing?” Raspnex demanded. He had not been shown the paper. He was a sorcerer.
“Could be. It’s been a long time.” The imperor shook his head as if to clear it. “Son of a mule! What matters is that whoever wrote this knows I have seen Oshpoo’s hand.” He laughed mirthlessly. “Brazen cheek!”
“How do you know his handwriting?” Inos asked. She had never considered the idea that gnomes might read and write, and discovering that blatant prejudice in herself annoyed her considerably. Why shouldn’t gnomes read and write?
“After Highscarp he sent me a letter congratulating me on my success.” Shandie was being much too casual.
“And?”
“And promising to get even.” He smiled wryly” passed the letter back to Inos. “Looks like he may have found his chance.”
“You’re out of your mind!” Raspnex snapped. “I just told you—you don’t have to go talk with mundane leaders anymore. All the sorcerous know about the new protocol now.”
“But there are other things I might discuss with that gentleman. I use the word loosely.” Shandie was regarding Inos. His dark eyes smoldered with an intensity that she had seen in them only rarely. She thought of that as his imperor look. It was the only thing that would ever make him stand out in a crowd. He was asking if she was willing to put her head in the noose with his.
Right now more than anything she would enjoy a hot bath but that would not likely be obtainable in Yugg’s sole hostelry. Besides, the bath would be more appropriate after meeting with gnomes, not before. And if Emshandar V by the grace of the Gods et-cetera thought he could outdare Inosolan of Krasnegar, longtime birds’-nest raiding champion of the North Face, then he was due for a shock.
So what if it was dangerous? Right now danger would be a welcome distraction from brooding. She nodded. The imperor removed his sword and scabbard and handed them to the dwarf.
“Madness!” Raspnex muttered.
“You’ll keep an occult eye on us, though?”
“Why bother? Can’t do much. Given the choice, which do you want—gnomes or the Covin? Your Oshpoo must have sorcerers of his own, to know who you are.”
“There’s more to it than that,” Shandie said. “Much more! Work it out. Inos, I’m grateful!” He offered his arm as if they were about to enter a ballroom. She smiled and accepted. Together they left the yard and emerged on the main street, which was also the Imperial highway across Guwush. Left led to the stockade of the fort, right to the temple, whose rickety little spire was the only thing in town taller than the cottage chimneys. They turned right.
A bugle called faintly from the fort. She did not ask Shandie what it signified. Chow, perhaps? The sky was growing dark, draining color from the world, and yet few windows showed lights. A dog was barking somewhere. The street did seem deserted, but tiny shadows moved in the corners of the alleys and in the corner of her eye. She was quite certain that the two strangers were being watched as they strode along.
“The Yugg Valley is one of the principal sources of spider silk,” Shandie remarked, intent on making casual conversation. He did not even seem to be looking out for danger.
He was behaving very oddly. The previous evening he had warned her against taking an innocent evening stroll in Highscarp, and now he was leading her out without a sword to meet a sworn enemy. His personal courage was unquestioned—the Senate had passed resolutions reprimanding him for it but she would not have expected him to be quite this foolhardy. He must have some powerful reason for wanting to meet the rebel chief, and she could not imagine what it might be.
Even more curious, perhaps, was the way he had allowed Inos herself to be dragged into an affair where she clearly did not belong. That did not fit with his attitude toward women and their irrelevancy in warfare, danger, and all other serious business.
Yet, come to think of it, Shandie’s attitude toward women had not been putting quite such a strain on her tooth enamel recently as it had when she had first met him. She could not recall the last time she had ground or gritted at one of his remarks. Could he possibly have changed his opinions in the past few months? A few houses farther along the road, she came to the conclusion that he definitely must have changed them. She wondered what in the world could have caused such a conversion in anyone as obdurate as Shandie.
They were almost at the temple. He was still talking aimlessly about silk. As they passed a gap between two houses, somebody whistled. There was just enough light to make out a small figure beckoning.
“Whistling!” Shandie said, changing direction. Mud squelched underfoot as soon as they left the paved highway. “Now I am whistled up like a dog?” He sounded amused—slightly.
They entered the alley. A tiny shadow flitted ahead, barely visible even when moving, vanishing whenever it stopped to wait for them.
“All we need now,” Inos said, “is for a bunch of horsemen to leave the stockade and ride along the street. That’d do it!”
“Less than that, I expect. A bugle call might be enough, if the man himself is really here in person.”
There was barely room for the two of them to walk side by side. The little guide hurried through a muddle of cottages like a maze. There were no organized roads and the footing was treacherous. Yugg was larger than Inos had thought. Suddenly they came to the end of it. Ahead lay brush and trees, and fresh air. Their mysterious guide was still beckoning.
A few steps into the wood, Inos stumbled. Shandie steadied her and stopped.
“We need light!” he called.
Tiny fingers gripped her hand and she jumped. Shandie grunted angrily, and she saw that vague little shapes had materialized beside each of them.
“We shall guide you,” said a shrill, thin voice, more like birdsong than human speech.
“Lead on, then.”
Shandie went first, Inos followed. In a moment she pulled free of the gnome’s grasp and put a hand on her—or his—shoulder. That worked better. She raised an arm to keep branches out of her face. They plodded through the forest, following an invisible path, and eventually a glimmer of light came into view. A small fire smoldered in a hollow. A solitary gnome sat cross-legged at the far side.
The greasy little shoulder twisted away from her and the guides vanished as mysteriously and silently as they had come. Shandie and Inos picked their way down the slope and settled on the ground, facing the gnome.
At first glance he was a pot-bellied, very filthy child. A second look discovered the wrinkles and flabby skin under the caked dirt. The color of his hair and beard were indeterminate. He wore a rag of the same gray as himself, his feet were bare. Like all gnomes, he had very little nose. He stared at the newcomers in silence, black-button eyes shining bright in the firelight.
Inos thought the beating of her heart must be audible for leagues. The woods all around were silent, but she was certain that they were filled with watchers. What had possessed her to come here? This was not her business. Rap would call her an idiot.
“You are older than I expected,” Shandie said.
“I am not Leader. I must make sure that it is safe for Leader to come here.”
“It is safe as far as I am concerned.”
The gnome scratched busily. “You are Imperor? This is Queen, from Krasnegar?”
“Yes. We were invited here.”
The tiny old man ignored that. He studied Inos for a moment. “You have gnomes in your land?”
She had half expected that question and had her answer ready. “At the last count there were six, but I expect there are eight now. Pish, Tush, Heug, Phewf, and their children.”
“Ah! You-know their names?”
“They are the royal rat catchers.” The gnome chuckled hoarsely, obviously pleased. “They are there by invitation,” Inos said.
He nodded. “That sounds like Rap.”
Her heart jumped. She thought she knew who this ancient was, then. Shandie made an irritated noise, but she ignored him.