thoughts will be so jumbled that Xanetia won’t be able to make
any sense of them.’
“Itagne’s skilled at debate and disputation,’ Oscagne suggested. ‘A
cademics spend hours splitting hairs.’
‘We prefer to call it meticulous attention to detail, old boy,
Itagne corrected his brother. ‘Kolata has ministerial rank.’
‘not any more, he doesn’t,’ Sarabian said.
‘Well, he used to, your Majesty. I’d suggest that we let Oscagne
conduct the interrogation. He holds the same rank as Kolata, so
he’ll be able to approach him as an equal.
‘Might I make a suggestion?’ Stragen asked.
‘Of course, Milord Stragen,’ the Emperor said.
‘Teovin’s been sneaking around out there trying his very best
to subvert the other ministries of your Majesty’s government.
Wouldn’t it be a good idea to make this a formal inquiry instead
of a star-chamber proceeding? If all the ministers and the aides
are present when we question Kolata, Teovin won’t have the
chance to scramble around and mend his fences.’
“it’s an interesting notion, isn’t it, Ehlana?’ Sarabian mused.
‘Very interesting,’ she agreed. ‘We’ll have to postpone the
interrogation, though. ‘
‘Oh?’
‘We’ll want to give your Atan runners a head start.’ She looked
at him gravely. ‘This is it, Sarabian. Up until now, it’s only been
speculation. Once Kolata starts talking in front of the rest of the
government, you’ll be committed. Are you really ready to go that far?’
The Emperor drew in a deep breath. ‘Yes, Ehlana, I think I
am.’ His voice was firm, but very quiet.
‘issue the order, then. Declare martial law. Turn the Atans
loose.’
Sarabian swallowed hard. ‘Are you certain your idea will
work, Atan Engessa?’ he asked the towering warrior.
“it always has, Sarabian – Emperor,’ Engessa replied. ‘The
signal fires are all in place. The word will spread throughout
Tamuli in a single night. The Atans will move out of their garrisons
the following morning.’
Sarabian’ stared at the floor for a long time. Then he looked
up. ‘Do it,’ he said.
The difficult part was persuading Sarabian and Ehlana not to tell
Zalasta about what was happening. ‘he doesn’t need to know,’
Sparhawk explained patiently.
‘Surely you don’t mistrust him, Sparhawk,’ Ehlana protested.
‘He’s proved his loyalty over and over again.’
‘Of course he has. He’s a Styric, though, and this sudden
move of yours is going to turn all of Tamuli upside down.
There’s going to be absolute chaos out there. He may try to get
word to the Styric communities hereabouts – a warning of some
kind. It’s a natural thing for him to do, and we can’t afford to
risk letting that information get out. The only thing that makes
your plan workable at all is the fact that it’s going to be a total
surprise. There are Styrics, and then there are Styrics.’
‘Say what you mean, Sparhawk,’ Sarabian said in a testy
voice.
‘The term “renegade Styric” means the same thing here in
Tamuli as it does in Eosia, your Majesty. We almost have to
assume that if we tell Zalasta, we’re telling all of Styricum, don’t
we? We know Zalasta, but we don’t know all the other Styrics
on the continent. There are some in Sarsos who’d sign compacts
with Hell itself if they thought it would give them a chance to
get even with the Elenes.’
‘You’re going to hurt his feelings, you know,’ Ehlana told
him.
‘He’ll live. We only have one chance at this, so let’s not take
even the remotest of risks.’
There was a polite tap at the door, and Mirtai stepped into
the room where the three of them were meeting. ‘Oscagne and
that other one are back,’ she reported.
‘Show them in please, Atana,’ Sarabian told her.
There was a kind of suppressed jubilation on the foreign minister’s
face as he entered with his brother, and Itagne’s
expression was almost identical. Sparhawk was a bit startled by
how much alike they looked.
‘You two look like a couple of cats who just got into the cream,
Sarabian told them.
‘We’re pulling off the coup of the decade, your Majesty,
Itagne replied.
‘Of the century,’ Oscagne corrected. ‘Everything’s in place,
my Emperor. We left it sort of vague – “general meeting of the
Imperial Council”, that sort of thing. Itagne dropped a few hints.
He’s been planting the notion that you’re considering having
your birthday declared a national holiday. It’s the sort of foolish
whim your Majesty’s family is famous for.’
‘Be nice,’ Sarabian murmured. he had picked up that particular
Elene expression during his stay in Ehlana’s castle.
‘Sorry, your Majesty,’ Oscagne apologized. ‘We’ve passed the
whole thing off as a routine, meaningless meeting of the council
– all formality and no substance.’
‘May I borrow your throne-room, Ehlana?’ Sarabian asked.
‘Of course,’ she smiled. ‘Formal dress, I suppose?’
‘Certainly. We’ll wear our crowns and our state robes. You
wear your prettiest dress, and I’ll wear mine.’
‘Your Majesty!’ Oscagne protested. ‘The customary Tamul
mantle is hardly a dress.’
‘A long skirt is a long skirt, Oscagne. Frankly, I’d prefer dublet
and hose – and, given the circumstances, my rapier. Stragen’s
right. Once you get used to wearing one you start to feel
undressed without it.’
‘if formality’s going to be the keynote, I think you and the
others should wear your dress armor, Sparhawk,’ Ehlana told
her husband.
‘Excellent idea, Ehlana,’ Sarabian approved. ‘That way they’ll
be ready when things turn ugly.’
They spent the rest of the day supervising the moving of
furniture in the throne-room. The Queen of Elenia, as she sometimes
did, went to extremes. ‘Buntings?’ Sparhawk asked her.
‘Buntings, Ehlana?’
‘We want things to look festive, Sparhawk,’ she replied with
an airy little toss of her head. ‘Yes, I know. It’s frivolous and
even a little silly, but buntings hanging from the walls and trumpet
fanfares introducing each of the ministers will set the tone.
We want this to look so intensely formal that the government
officials won’t believe that anything serious could possibly happen.
We’re laying a trap, love, and buntings are part of the bait.
Details, Sparhawk, details. Good plots swarm with details.’
‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’
‘Of course I am. Is the drawbridge raised?’
He nodded.
‘Good. Keep it that way. We don’t want anybody slipping
out of the castle with any kind of information. We’ll escort the
ministers inside tomorrow, and then we’ll raise the drawbridge
again. We want to be in absolute control of the situation.’
‘Yes, dear.’
‘Don’t make fun of me, Sparhawk,’ she warned.
‘i’d sooner die.’
It was nearly dusk when Zalasta came into the throne-room and
took Sparhawk to one side. “I must leave, Prince Sparhawk,’
he pleaded, his eyes a little wild. “it is a matter of the gravest
urgency. ‘
‘My hands are tied, Zalasta,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘You know
my wife. When she starts speaking in the royal “we”, there’s
no reasoning with her.’
‘There are things I must set in motion, your Highness, things
vital to the success of the Emperor’s plan.’
‘I’ll try to talk with her, but I can’t hold out much hope. Things
are fairly well under control, though. The Atans know what to
do outside the castle walls, and my Church Knights can handle
things inside. There are ministers and other high-level officials
whose loyalty is in doubt, you know. We don’t know exactly
what the questioning of the Minister of the Interior is going to
bring out. We’ll have those people in our hands, and we don’t
want them running off to stir up more mischief.’
‘You don’t understand, Sparhawk!’ The note of desperation
was clearly evident.
‘I’ll do what I can, Zalasta,’ Sparhawk said, ‘but I can’t make
any promises.’
CHAPTER 19
The Tamul architect who had designed Ehlana’s castle had evidently
devoted half a lifetime to the study of Elene buildings,
and, like so many with limited gifts, he had slavishly imitated
the details without capturing the spirit. The throne-room was a
case in point. Elene castles have but two purposes – to remain
standing and to keep out unwanted visitors. Both these purposes
are served best by the kind of massive construction one
might consider in designing a mountain. Over the centuries,
some Elenes have sought to soften their necessarily bleak surroundings
by embellishment. The interior braces intended to
keep the walls from collapsing – even when swept by a blizzard
of boulders – became buttresses. The massive stone posts
designed to keep the ceiling where it belonged became columns
with ornately carved bases and capitals. The same sort of
strength can ‘be achieved by vaulting, and the throne-room of
Ehlana’s Tamul-built castle was a marvel of redundancy. It was
massively vaulted and supported by long rows of fluted columns,
and was braced by flying buttresses so delicate as to be not only
useless but actually hazardous to those standing under them.
Moreover, like everything else in fire-domed Matherion, the
entire room was sheathed in opalescent mother-of-pearl.
Ehlana had chosen the buntings with some care, and the