“You have met my husband, sir?”
“Please do not give me titles. Yes, I met Rap once, long ago. He stands out of the light.”
“I do not quite follow that . . . Ishist?”
“It is a gnomish saying. Most people cannot see the world for their own shadows.”
There was a lump in her throat. “That describes him very well.” .
The old man picked up a stick and poked at the fire. Sparks rushed upward into the night. “He sees what is and does what he should.”
“Yes, he does.” It was Rap exactly.
“And you, Imperor? Why wouldst you speak with Leader?”
“You eavesdropped on her Majesty and myself last night in Highscarp,” Shandie said. “When we spoke, at the door of the inn.”
Ishist cackled. “I did not. Others did.”
There was a pause. Inos wished she could pass a note to Shandie, warning of sorcery. “May I inquire how your wife is, Ishist?”
“She is well. She is visiting with her father at the moment.” Inos flipped a mental coin and decided to press on, aware that she was on dangerous ground. “They are reconciled?” The old man must know every thought in her head. “Oh, yes. Many years ago.”
“That is good news. And Ugish, and the other children?”
“Ugish and two more of my sons died at Highscarp.” Awkward silence.
“I am sorry to hear that, Ishist,” Inos said. “Are you still Dragonward?”
Shandie twitched.
“No, I retired,” the gnome said. He leered, showing innumerable sharp teeth. “His Omnipotence released me, as is his wont with those who have served him well. My only binding now is not to oppose him. Imp, you did not answer my question.”
Shandie cleared his throat harshly. “Yesterday I wanted to speak with, er, General Oshpoo so that I could advise him of the usurper and the Covin and the counter-revolution. Today that is no longer necessary.”
“No, it isn’t. The letter you received was written before the drama in Hub. So why did you accept the invitation?”
“Because I believe there are other important matters he and I should discuss. I am impressed by his power.”
“What power?”
Shandie chuckled. “Your power, perhaps. The usurper Zinixo controls the greatest concentration of sorcery the world has seen in a millennium; perhaps ever. For half a year he has tried to catch me. He came very close, but he failed, thanks to a loyal servant of mine, Signifer Ylo. And yet General Oshpoo located me in a day? Clearly he has no small power at his command.”
“He does,” the sorcerer said in his squeaky whisper. “And the warden of the east died today.”
Meaning, perhaps, that the legions were unprotected now, or that the anti-Covin faction could not defend its own. Shandie did not turn to the lure. “I had never thought . . . No one has ever mentioned gnomish sorcerers in my hearing. But of course sorcerers are solitary people. They must often die alone, and yet to die in peace they need tell their words to somebody. I suppose gnomes are often the only ones around?”
The grubby little man nodded, black eyes shining bright in the firelight. ”And gnomes die beside other gnomes. We may have more sorcerers amongst us than any other people.”
“Which is what I realized when I saw that letter,” Shandie said. He turned to share a smile with Inos. “Rap once told me that words could be looted. I don’t think even he had realized that they could be scavenged, also! How many gnomes serve the Covin?” He flashed the question at Ishist.
The sorcerer scratched his caked beard. “None.”
“Why none?”
“Because few gnomes ever bother to use their power much, so they rarely get caught. When they do, the dwarf takes their words and puts them to death.”
“Then the gnomish sorcerers will aid our cause?”
“You are our enemy, Imperor.” The little man raised his voice for the first time. “Why should we seek to restore you to your throne? Why should we restore the wardens? Why should we not just stay neutral and let the day folk fight out their own battles? That has always bean our gnomish way.” He bared his needle teeth.
“That is what I wish to discuss with General Oshpoo.” The black-button eyes stared hard over the little fire for several very long seconds. Then the tiny shoulders shruggedInos could almost imagine grime flaking off.
“I think you are honest,” Ishist said. “Leader, it is safe.”
Another gnome advanced into the firelight, clutching what seemed to be an old log under his arm. He was indistinguishable from any other gnome, so coated in dirt that his color and age were impossible to make out. Only his beard showed that he was not just a filthy child. He moved nimbly to sit down beside the sorcerer, then looked across at Shandie without expression.
“Speak, then. I am Oshpoo.”
“I honor a noble opponent.”
“I hate you. I would lay your carcass at my door and dance on it every day until it rotted to mud.”
Inos glanced at the imperor to see how he had taken that, but Shandie’s face was never readable at the best of times. “After Highscarp you told me you wanted revenge. I think you got it at Abnilagrad.”
“Not enough. Not enough to wash out a generation of killing and oppression.” Something about Oshpoo’s thin voice made Inos think of snakes. Or perhaps it was the unwinking stare of hatred.
The imperor did not try to argue the point. “We are both outlaws now. You understand that? An imposter rules in my place. Nothing I say tonight has any validity in law.”
“Say it anyway so I can refuse.”
“I want the help of all free sorcerers in the world to overthrow the Covin and the usurper—including gnomes.”
“I am not a sorcerer.”
“But you have many supporters who are.”
“Why should they help one who has killed so many of our young men and enslaved our land?”
“Because the alternative may be worse.”
Inos wondered how many eyes watched from the surrounding darkness. All she could hear was crickets and the fire crackling. She wondered how many bows and spears were out there—how many more sorcerers. She wondered how reliable gnomish safe-conduct was.
“Worse than you?” Oshpoo asked with his mouth full. He had laid the rotted log across his knees and was picking things out of it, eating them with evident enjoyment. “Worse than the Four? Without the warlock of the east meddling, we can use sorcery against your legions. The new order holds promise for gnomes.”
“Rubbish,” Shandie said calmly. “If Zinixo guesses that you have sorcerers at your beck, then he will blast you without mercy. He has pulled half the legions out of Guwush. Don’t think that makes him a gnome supporter. I am sure he is setting a trap for you, although I admit I do not understand it.”
Oshpoo sneered, showing even more teeth than the old sorcerer had. ”Having no army you now try to defend your realm with words?’
I think you believe the same, General, or you would have moved by now.”
“I am no general. My name is Leader. Your flattery sickens me.”
“How many spies do you have at court?” Shandie was keeping his voice flat and steady. His hands lay relaxed on his knees.
“That I will not answer.”
“And how many sorcerers here in Guwush?”
“That I will not answer, either.”
“Will you ask them to help us against the Almighty when the trumpet sounds?”
Oshpoo shrugged his tiny shoulders. “Why should I? Why should they agree? What can you offer gnomes, Imperor?”
“Surrender.”
Inos shot a startled glance at Shandie. Diplomats would not approve of his style—he negotiated with a broadsword. The two gnomes showed no reaction.
“Explain!” Oshpoo broke off a piece of wood and evidently found some treats under it.
Shandie took a moment to gather his words. “This war is costing the Impire far more than Guwush is worth,” he said. “More in gold, more in men. I make you this promise: When I am restored to power, I will offer you a treaty withdrawing all the legions from your land and recognizing Guwush as an independent realm.”
“On what terms?”
“Merely that all imps may leave safely within, say, three months. That is all I shall ask, uncontested withdrawal.” Oshpoo’s beady eyes gleamed in the firelight. “No imperor has ever signed a treaty with gnomes.”
“Wrong. There was a treaty in 1342. And I will sign this one.”
“The Senate would not ratify it.”
“I can handle those old relics,” Shandie said grimly. “If they balk, I shall threaten to pull out the legions unilaterally, and they cannot stop me from doing that. The money being wasted. here will compensate the losers amply.”
Oshpoo took awhile to think, obviously suspicious. “And what exactly do you want of me now?”