normal. The customary approach is to have everybody in custody
before you start issuing proclamations and disbanding
branches of government.’
“I can see your point, of course,’ he agreed. They were standing
atop the battlements again, looking out over the city as the
sun rose above the thick ground fog. ‘That’s pretty, isn’t it?’ he
observed. ‘The color of the fog almost perfectly matches the
mauve on the walls and domes.’
‘You have a beautiful city.’
‘With some not-so-beautiful people living in it. What am I
going to do for a police force after I dissolve the Ministry of the
Interior?’
‘You’ll probably have to declare martial law.’
He winced. ‘The Atans won’t make me very many friends, I’m
afraid. They tend to have a very simplified concept of justice.’
‘We don’t have to stand for re-election, Sarabian. That’s why
we can do unpopular things.’
‘Only up to a point,’ he disagreed. “I have to live with the
great houses of Tamul proper, and I’m still getting letters of
protest from many of them about sons and brothers who were
killed or maimed while the Atans were putting down the coup.’
‘They were traitors, weren’t they?’
‘No,’ he sighed, ‘probably not. We Tamuls pamper our children,
and the noble houses carry that to extremes. Matherion’s
a political city, and when young Tamuls enter the university,
they’re expected to get involved in politics – usually of the most
radical sort. The rank and position of their families protect them
from the consequences of excessive juvenile enthusiasm. I was
an anarchist when I was a student. I even led a few demonstrations
against my father’s government.’ He smiled faintly. “I
used to get arrested on an average of once a week. They never
would throw me in the dungeon, though, no matter what kind
of names I called my father. I tried very hard to get thrown into
the dungeon, but the police wouldn’t cooperate.’
‘Why on earth did you want to spend time in a dungeon?’
she laughed.
‘Young Tamul noblewomen are terribly impressed by political
martyrs. I’d have cut a wide track if I could have gotten myself
imprisoned for a few days.’
“I thought you got married when you were a baby,’ she said.
‘isn’t it sort of inappropriate for a married man to be thinking
about how wide a track he can cut among the ladies?’
‘My first wife and I stopped speaking to each other for about
ten years when we were young, and the fact that I was required
by tradition to have eight other wives made the notion of fidelity
a sort of laughable concept.’ A thought came to him. “I wonder
if Caalador would consider taking a post in my government, ‘ he mused.
‘You could do worse. I have a man named Platime in my
government, and he’s an even bigger thief than Caalador.’
Ehlana looked on down the battlements and saw Mirtai
approaching. ‘Any luck?’ she asked.
“it’s hard to say,’ the giantess shrugged. ‘We got inside easily
enough, but we didn’t find what we were looking for. Stragen
and Caalador are going out to the university to talk with some
of the scholars there.’
‘Are they suddenly hungering and thirsting after knowledge?’
Sarabian asked her lightly.
“Tain’t hardly likely, dorlin” Mirtai replied.
‘Darling?’ he asked her incredulously.
‘But you are Sarabian,’ the golden giantess replied, gently
touching his cheek. “I discovered tonight that conspirators and
thieves and other scoundrels are supposed to be very affectionate
with each other. You’re conspiring with us to overthrow the
police, so you’re a member of the family now. Stragen wants to
talk with some specialists in architecture. He suspects that there
might be some secret rooms in the Interior Ministry. He’s hoping
that the original plans for the building might be in some library.’
She gave the Emperor a sly, sidelong glance. ‘That’s what it iz
that they’re a-doin’, dorlin’,’ she added.
‘Are you really sure you want Caalador in your government,
Sarabian?’ Ehlana asked him. ‘That dialect of his seems to rub
off on people. Give him a year or two, and everybody in the
imperial compound will be calling you “dorlin”‘.’
‘That might be preferable to some of the other names I’ve been
called lately.’
CHAPTER 9
Sparhawk and his friends left Cyton early the next morning and
rode eastward through vast golden fields of ripening wheat. The
rolling countryside sloped gradually downward into the broad
valley where the Pela and Edek rivers joined on the border
between Edam and Cynesga.
Sparhawk rode in the lead with Flute nestled in his arms. The
little girl seemed unusually quiet this morning, and after they
had been on the road for a couple of hours, Sparhawk leaned
to one side and looked at her face. Her eyes were fixed, vacant,
and her face expressionless. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.
‘Not now, Sparhawk,’ she told him crossly. ‘i’m busy.’
‘Aphrael, we’re coming up on the border. Shouldn’t we . . . ?’
‘Leave me alone.’ She burrowed her forehead into his chest
with a discontented little sound.
‘What is it, Sparhawk?’ SePhrenia asked, Pulling Ch’iel in
beside Faran.
‘Aphrael won’t talk to me.’
Sephrenia leaned forward and looked critically at Flute’s face.
‘Ah,’ she said.
‘Ah what?’
‘Leave her alone, Sparhawk. She’s someplace else right now.’
The border’s just ahead, Sephrenia. Can we really afford to
spend half a day trying to talk our way across?’
“it looks as if we’ll have to. Here, give her to me.’
He lifted the semi-comatose little girl and placed her in her
sisters arms. ‘Maybe I can move us past the border without her.
I know how it’s done now.’
‘No, Sparhawk. You’re not ready to try it by yourself. We
definitely don’t want you to start experimenting on your own
just yet. We’ll have to take our chances at the border. There’s
no way of knowing how long Aphrael’s going to be busy.’
“it’s not anything important, is it? I mean, is Ehlana in any
kind of danger?’
“I don’t know, and I don’t want to disturb Aphrael just now
to find out. Danae will take care of her mother. You’re just going
to have to trust her.’
‘This is very difficult, you know. How long does it take to
adjust your thinking to the idea that there are three of her – and
that they’re all the same one?’ She gave him a puzzled look.
‘Aphrael, Flute and Danae – they’re all the same person, but
they can be in two places at once, or even three, for all I know,
and doing two or three different things.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed.
‘Doesn’t that disturb you just a little?’
‘Does it concern you that your Elene God’s supposed to know
what everybody in the world’s thinking? – all at the same time?’
‘Well – no. I suppose not.’
‘What’s the difference?’
‘he’s God, Sephrenia.”
‘So’s she, Sparhawk.’
“it doesn’t seem quite the same.”
“it is, though. Tell the others that we’re going to have to make
the border crossing on our own.’
‘They’ll want to know why.’
‘Lie to them. God will forgive you – one of them will, anyway.
‘You’re impossible to talk to when you’re like this, do you
know that?’
‘Don’t talk to me, then. Right now I’d prefer that you didn’t
anywaY.’
‘is something wrong?’
“I was just a little upset when you dissolved that cloud and it
started swearing at you in Styric.’
“I noticed that myself.’ he’made a face. ‘How could anyone
have missed it? I gather it’S Significant.’
‘What language do you swear in when you stub your toe?’
‘Elenic, of course.”
‘Of course. It’s your native tongue. Doesn’t that sort of suggest
that Styric’s the native tongue of whoever’s behind that
shadow?’
“I hadn’t thought of that. I suppose it does.’
‘The fact disturbs me, Sparhawk – more than just a little bit.
It suggests all sorts of things that I don’t really want to accept.’
‘Such as?’
‘There’s a Styric working with our enemy, for one thing, and
he’s highly skilled. That shadow’s the result of a very complex
spell. I doubt that there are more than eight or ten in all of
Styricum who could have managed it, and I know all of those
people. They’re my friends. It’s not a pleasant thing to contemplate.
Why don’t you go bother somebody else and let me work
on it?’
Sparhawk gave up and dropped back to talk with the others.
‘There’s been a little change of plans,’ he told them. ‘Aphrael’s
occupied elsewhere just now, so we won’t be able to avoid the
border-crossing. ‘
‘What’s she doing?’ Bevier asked.
‘You don’t want to know. Believe me, Bevier, you, of all
people, really don’t want to know.’
“She’s doing one of those God-things?’ Talen guessed.
‘Talen,’ Bevier rebuked him. ‘They’re called miracles, not Godthings.’
‘That was the word I was looking for,’ Talen replied, snapping
his fingers.
Vanion was frowning. ‘Border-crossings are always tedious,’