Shandie did not reply to that. He scratched his stubble thoughtfully, as if planning a speech, and then changed the subject.
“Inos, even here we are in some danger, you and I and Gath. When we get to Gwurkiarg the risks will become much worse. I’ve been talking with the warlock, and we agree that there is no need for you to come all the way to Dwanish with us.”
“I understood that we were prisoners of war?”
“In theory. But Raspnex is still warlock of the north. Dwarves don’t argue with him. Tomorrow we should arrive at Throgg. I visited it once. It’s a mean little hamlet, one of those sorry border places that gets destroyed whenever it grows big enough to be worth fighting over. The buildings are a bedraggled collection and the people are a hard lot. However, this war isn’t going to come its way. It’s relatively secure this time. We’ll leave you there, and you can hide out in safety, if not comfort. By summer the way should be clear for you to make a dash back to the coast and catch a ship. Maybe the summer after, even.”
“The prospect does not exactly fill me with rapture.” Shandie chuckled cheerfully. “But any port in a storm, right? Take up weaving or bird watching! You must think of your kingdom, and war is no place for a woman.” If he noted her reaction, he gave no sign of it. “You have children to consider,” he added. “I think the snow’s passing, don’t you?”
Nothing ever roused Inos’s temper faster than a suspicion that she was being patronized. “Mmm. Spell out the Dwanishian danger for me,” she said sweetly.
He shrugged. “Just that the warlock and I plan to appear before the Directorate to spread the news about the new protocol. The meeting will be private, but word of our presence in Gwurkiarg may get around.”
She donned an expression of candied innocence. “Dwanish was Zinixo’s home ground, right? He went back there after Rap destroyed his sorcery, and he spent almost twenty years there. He built his power base there. Surely all the sorcerers in Dwanish were coerced into the Covin long ago?” Am I understanding correctly? Can a mere woman grasp such convoluted concepts?
Shandie shrugged. “Raspnex does not think so. Dwarves are such a suspicious breed that they’re not easily trapped, although he doesn’t put it in quite those terms, of course.”
“Let me guess,” she said, still being all virginal and dulcet. ”You and the warlock go before the Directorate and make your little speeches, appealing for help. But Zinixo would not have left his home base unguarded, so he has a spy or two on the Directorate itself. The spy sends an occult message to the Covin, and in a flash the hall is stiff with sorcerers. Am I getting close?”
The imperor gave her a calculating look. His beard was salted with snowflakes, which were flying thicker than ever. “You’ve been talking with the warlock, too?”
“Not about this.”
“WeII, I’m impressed! Queens learn to think strategically, I suppose. Yes, you’re exactly right! Zinixo must know by now what we’re up to, and he has hundreds of smart people utterly devoted to his cause. The Directorate will certainly be under surveillance, at the least.”
His attitude made Inos’ fingernails itch, but admittedly he was making sense. Although it was many years since she had seen Zinixo, the thought of him could still pucker her skin. If half of what she had been told was true, then the vindictive dwarf would dearly love to get his hands on Rap’s wife and son. She would prefer to deny him the satisfaction, if possible. A year of concealment in the odious-sounding Throgg might be preferable, and she did have a responsibility to her realm. She shuddered to think what might be happening back there now, with no one to keep peace between the factions.
“If I had only myself to consider,” she said reluctantly, “I’d probably come along just for the fun of it. I’m sure Raspnex has something up his sleeve, probably a sharp knife. But I must think of Gath. Perhaps he and I should stay behind and study decorum and social graces at the knees of the nobility of Throgg.”
Shandie cleared his throat and avoided her eye. “Actually, we were thinking just of you, Inos. I realize that he is very young, and I promised Rap that I would be bound by your wishes where Gath was concerned—but that was when we thought he was safe in Krasnegar. Now he’s caught in the mill like the rest of us, so I don’t think my promise is valid anymore.”
Inos took a very deep breath and the feathery snowflakes tickled her nose. ”Oh? You were planning to leave me and take my son?”
“Well, yes. The warlock seems to think he might be useful, although I’m not sure exactly how.”
God of Murder!
“Emshandar?” Inos said in an excessively gentle tone. Shandie looked around at her in surprise. His eyes widened at what he saw.
“Don’t you remember,” she continued softly, “when you were a skinny little boy, one night you went to the Rotunda? You saw Warlock Zinixo try to kill the man who is now my husband.”
“Rap bursting into flames? I had nightmares for months.”
“And then what happened? Do you remember, Emshandar?”
“I . . . You ran to him and . . . and hugged him.”
“Yes, I did,” Inos said, smiling. “Fire and all. My aunt always told me I was impulsive. And you think I will desert my son?” she roared.
The dwarf driver turned around to see what the noise was all about. The imperor flinched. “Be sensible, Inos!”
“No, you be sensible! That is the most insulting suggestion I have ever heard! Gath is only a child. If Warlock Raspnex thinks he can use him, then he comes and asks me, is that clear? And I decide! And you can take your thriving metropolis of Throgg and shove it up your Imperial toga! Is that absolutely clear, your Majesty?”
“There is no need to be offensive.”
“You started it! There is no need for you to patronize me!”
A small smile twisted Shandie’s stubble. “Why not? You were trying to mother me!”
“I . . . Well, that’s different!” She returned his grin. “No woman ever believes any man understands marriage. I suppose no man ever believes any woman understands warfare. Truce?”
“Truce!”
“How about a treaty of cooperation?”
“What does that mean?” he asked warily.
“Why didn’t you tell me you could communicate with my husband?”
Shandie looked out over the moor for a moment, hiding his expression. When he turned back to her, his face was unreadable again. “Lord Umpily has been captured. Right at the beginning, Raspnex warned us that the scrolls might not be secure once the Covin learned about them. Our messages may be intercepted, or even traced back to their source.”
“And you thought I was a flighty, feather-headed woman? You thought that once I knew about them, I would jeopardize security by pestering Rap with innumerable love letters?”
“Not that bad. Something on those lines, I suppose”
“Well, I didn’t,” she said miserably. “I can’t torture him by telling him what I’ve done. I sent him three words on the warlock’s scroll: “I love you!’ That’s all. He’ll know my handwriting. He’ll know I’ve been warned.” He’ll think everything is all right. He’ll be deceived. Lying by omission is still lying.”
“I’m sorry, Inos.” Shandie sounded as if he meant it.
“Apology accepted.” She sighed. “Now, how can my son possibly help the warlock when we get to Dwanish?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think Raspnex does, either, but he’s got some sort of vague idea, or hunch, maybe.”
“Gath has prescience, but it’s very weak. The warlock himself must be much more powerful.”
“Yes.” Still, Shandie was giving nothing away.
Inos studied him for a moment. “The only way I can think of that Gath might be useful is as bait.”
The imperor sighed. “That had occurred to me, too.”
2
“Lifted to saddle!” Kadie said. “Jumped up in back! Put arms around. Dug spurs in horse. Galloped toward sunset. Kissed warmly.”
“Kissed horse?” Blood Beak demanded with open disbelief.
“Oh, of course not! He kissed Princess Taol’dor!”
“Why?”
“Because it’s romantic for princes—”
“Must not speak impish!”
Kadie snorted. “Wanted to kiss her,” she said sulkily.
“Kiss in bed, when lodge fire banked. Is obscene other times.”
Really! Feeling her cheeks burning, she nudged her pony to a canter. Goblins had absolutely no idea of romance! Blood Beak did not seem to know the difference between a kiss and, er, more intimate behavior.
Kadie was astride a pert little gray, now named Allena the Mare. Her companion was running alongside. He had been doing so all day, burdened with a bow and a quiver and a sword, and yet he matched her new pace with no apparent strain. Behind them, their twenty-four-man guard would keep up just as easily.