‘isn’t a mermaid supposed to be half-girl and half-fish?’ Ulath
asked.
‘So the legend goes,’ Oscagne replied.
‘And isn’t she supposed to be a fish from the waist down?’
‘i’ve been told so, yes.’
‘Then how… ?’ Ulath also looked quickly at Ehlana and then
abruptly broke off.
‘How what, Sir Ulath?’ Ehlana asked him innocently.
“It’s – ah – not really important, your Majesty,’ he replied with
an embarrassed cough.
“I wouldn’t even raise this absurd myth, your Majesties,’
Oscagne said to Sarabian and Ehlana, ‘except in the light of
recent developments. The parallels between the vampires in
Arjuna, the Shining Ones in southern Atan, and the werewolves,
ghouls and Ogres in other parts of the Empire are really
rather striking, wouldn’t you say? I’d imagine that if someone
were to go to Tega and ask around, he might hear stories about
some pre-historic pearl-diver who’s been resurrected and also
find that some rabble-rouser’s telling the Tegans that this hero
and his half-fish, half-human mistress are going to lead the
oysters in a mass assault on Matherion.’
‘How droll,’ Sarabian murmured.
‘Sorry, your Majesty,’ Oscagne apologized. ‘What I’m getting
at here is that we’ve probably got some relatively inexperienced
conspirator on Tega. He’s just getting started, so he’s bound to
make mistakes – but experienced or not, he knows a great deal
about the whole conspiracy. Since our friends here won’t let
us question Kolata too closely, we have to look elsewhere for
information. ‘
‘We’re not being delicate about the Minister of the Interior,
your Excellency,’ Kalten told him. “It’s just that we’ve seen what
happens to prisoners who are on the verge of talking too much.
Kolata’s still useful to us, but only as long as he stays in one
piece. He won’t be much good if little chunks and globs of him
get scattered all over the building.’
Oscagne shuddered. ‘i’ll take your word for it, Sir Kalten. At
any rate, your Majesty, if some of our Elene friends here could
go to Tega and put their hands on this fellow and talk with
him before our enemy can dismantle him, they could probably
persuade him to tell us everything he knows. Sir Sparhawk has
some ambitions along those lines, I understand. He wants to
find out if he can wring somebody out hard enough to make
his hair bleed.’
‘You have a very graphic imagination, Sparhawk,’ Sarabian
noted. ‘What do you think, Ehlana? Can you spare your husband
for a while? If he and some of his knights went to Tega
and held the entire island under water for a couple of hours,
God only knows what kind of information might come bubbling
to the surface.’
‘That’s a very good idea, Sarabian. Sparhawk, why don’t you
take some of our friends, run on down to the Isle of Tega, and
see what you can find out?’
‘i’d really rather not be separated from you, dear,’ he replied
with feigned reluctance.
‘That’s very sweet, Sparhawk, but we do have responsibilities,
you know.’
‘Are you ordering me to go, Ehlana?’
‘You don’t have to put it that way, Sparhawk. It’s only a
suggestion, after all.’
‘As my Queen commands,’ he sighed, putting on a melancholy
expression.
CHAPTER 2
Empress Gahenas was a Tegan lady of middle years with a
severe expression and tightly pursed lips. She wore a plain gray
gown, buttoned to the chin, and long-sleeved gloves of scratchy
wool. Her hair was drawn so tightly back into a bun that it made
her eyes bulge, and her ears protruded from the sides of her
head like open barn doors. Empress Gahenas disapproved of
everything, that much was clear from the outset. She had come
to Sparhawk’s study to provide background information on the
Isle of Tega, but she did not come alone. the Empress Gahenas
never went anywhere without her four chaperones, a cluster of
ancient Tegan hags who perched on a varnished bench like a
row of gargoyles.
It was a warm day in early autumn, but the sunlight streaming
in through the window of Sparhawk’s study seemed to grow
wan and sickly when Empress Gahenas entered with the stern
guardians of her virtue.
She spent an hour lecturing Sparhawk on the gross national
product of her homeland in a tone that strongly suggested that
she was going to give a test at the conclusion of the lecture.
Sparhawk fought to keep from yawning. He was not really interested
in production figures or labor costs. What he really wanted
from the jug-eared Empress were little details of ordinary life
on the Isle to flesh out the series of letters he was writing to his
wife – letters which were to be doled out to Ehlana to help
sustain the fiction that he and his friends were tracking down
ring-leaders and other conspirators who were concealed among
the general population.
‘Ah…’ he interrupted Gahenas’s droning monologue, ‘this
is absolutely fascinating, your Highness, but could we go back
for a moment to the island’s form of government? That really
has me baffled.’
‘Tega is a republic, Prince Sparhawk. Our rulers are elected to
their positions every five years. It’s been that way for twenty-five
centuries. ‘
‘Your officials aren’t elected for life?’
‘Of course not. Who would want a job like that for life?’
‘No one ever develops a hunger for power?’
‘The government has no power, Prince Sparhawk. It exists
only to carry out the will of the electorate.’
‘Why five years?’
‘Because nobody wants to be away from his own affairs for
longer than that.’
‘What happens if a man’s re-elected?’
‘That’s contrary to the law. No one serves more than one term
in office.’
‘Let’s suppose somebody turned out to be an absolute genius
in a particular position? Wouldn’t you want to keep him there?’
‘We’ve never found anyone that indispensable.’
‘it seems to me that the system would encourage corruption.
If a man knows he’s going to be thrown out of office after five
years, what’s to keep him from manipulating his official
decisions to further his own interests – later on, I mean?’
“Quite impossible, Prince Sparhawk. Our elected officials have
no outside interests. As soon as they’re elected, everything they
own is sold, and the money’s put into the national treasury. If
the economy prospers during their term in office, their wealth
earns them a profit. If the economy collapses, they lose
everything. ‘
‘That’s absurd. No government ever makes a profit.
‘Ours does,’ she said smugly, ‘and it has to be a real profit.
The tax rates are set and cannot be changed, so our officials
can’t generate a false profit by simply raising taxes.’
‘Why would anyone want to be an official in a government
like that?’
‘Nobody wants to be, Prince Sparhawk. Most Tegans do everything
they possibly can to avoid election. The fact that a man’s
own personal fortune’s in the treasury forces him to work just
as hard as he possibly can to make sure that the government
prospers. Many have worked themselves to death looking after
the interests of the Republic.’
“I think I’d run away from an honor like that one.
‘That’s really quite impossible, your Highness. Just as soon
as a man’s name’s placed in nomination for a public office, he’s
put under guard, and if he’s elected, he remains under close
guard for his entire term. The Republic makes absolutely sure
that nobody evades his responsibilities to her.’
‘The Republic’s a stern mistress.’
“She is indeed, Prince Sparhawk, and that’s exactly the way
it should be.’
Though his companions chafed at the delay, Sparhawk put off
their departure for two more days while he feverishly composed
the letters to Ehlana. The progress of the fictitious investigation
had to be convincing, certainly, and at least moderately interesting.
Sparhawk wove false leads, plots and unsolved mysteries
into his account. He became increasingly absorbed in the
developing story, sometimes becoming so caught up in it that
he lost sight of the fact that the events he was reporting were
not actually taking place. He became rather proud of his efforts,
and he began to revise extensively, adding a touch here and
modifying a poorly phrased passage there, until he unwittingly
crossed the line between careful artistry and sheer fussiness.
‘They’re good enough, Sparhawk,’ Vanion said to him after
reading through the letters on the evening of the second day.
Vanion was rather pointedly wearing the plain tunic and heavy
riding boots Pandions customarily put on before making an
extended journey.
‘You don’t think it’s too obvious?’
“It’s fine just the way it is.’
‘Maybe I should rework that third letter. It seems awfully
weak to me for some reason.’
‘You’ve written it four times already. It’s good enough.’
‘i’m really not happy with it, Vanion.’ Sparhawk took the
offending letter from his friend and ran through it once more,
automatically reaching for his pen as he read.
Vanion firmly took the letter away from him.