‘Is there a brain inside that handsome head? The army you speak of numbers more than fifty thousand men, many of them battle-hardened by war against Nadir tribes and Sathuli raiders. But that is not the point. Here in Gothir there are three main factions. One faction believes in the divine right of the Gothir to conquer the world. The other seeks to conquer the world without concerning themselves with the question of divine rights. You understand? For reasons best known to themselves, each faction hates the other. This nation stands constantly on the brink of civil war. While they are thus fighting among themselves, the Drenai are free from the appalling cost of resisting an invasion.’
‘Cost? Are we talking coin here?’
‘Of course we are talking coin,’ said Majon, his jr-ritation flaring. ‘Mobilization of men, training, new armour, swords, breastplates. Food for the recruits. And where do we find the recruits? The land. Peasants and farmers. When they are soldiers, who gathers the crops? The answer is that many fields are left unharvested. What happens to the price of grain? It soars. And, at the end, what has been achieved? The fortress will hold, and the men will go home to find their taxes have risen to pay for the war. Fifty thousand trained soldiers angry at the government.’
‘You didn’t mention the dead,’ said Sieben softly.
‘A good point. The threat of disease from corpses, the costs of burial. Then there are the cripples, who become an endless drag upon the benevolence of the state.’
‘I think you have made your point, ambassador,’ put in Sieben. ‘Your humanity does you credit. But you mentioned three factions, and you have described only two.’
‘Lastly there is the Royal Guard — ten thousand men, the elite of the Gothir army. They placed the God-King on the throne after the last Insurrection – and they keep him there. Neither of the other two factions is yet powerful enough to be guaranteed victory without the support of the Guards. Therefore everyone stands frozen, unable to move. Ideally that situation should be encouraged to continue.’
Sieben laughed. ‘And meanwhile a madman sits on the throne, his reign punctuated by murder, torture and enforced suicides?’
‘That is a problem for the Gothir, Sieben. Our concern is the Drenai, of which there are also close to three thousand living in Gothir lands whose lives would be forfeit if any general hostilities were announced. Merchants, labourers, physicians – aye, and diplomats. Are their lives without meaning, Sieben?’
‘Smoothly done, Majon,’ said Sieben, clapping his hands. ‘And now we come to the horse-turd-honey-cake. Of course their lives have meaning. But Druss is not responsible for them, nor for the actions of a madman. Don’t you understand, ambassador? Nothing you – or the God-King – can do will change that. Druss is not a stupid man, yet he sees life very clearly. He will go out and face Klay, and give everything he has to win. There is nothing anyone could say that would induce him to do less. Nothing at all. All your arguments here would be meaningless. Druss would say that whatever the God-King chooses to do – or not to do – is up to his own conscience. But even more than that, Druss would refuse for one very simple reason.’
‘And that is?’
‘It wouldn’t be right.’
‘I thought you said he was intelligent!’ snapped Majon. ‘Right, indeed! What has right to do with this? We are dealing with a . . . sensitive and . . . unique ruler . . .’
‘We are dealing with a lunatic who, if he wasn’t King, would be locked away for his own safety,’ responded Sieben.
Majon rubbed his tired eyes. ‘You mock politics,’ he said softly. ‘You sneer at diplomacy. But how do you think we hold the world at peace? I’ll tell you, Sieben. Men like me travel to places like this, and we’re fed those horse-turd cakes of yours. And we smile, and we say how nourishing they are. We move in the space between other men’s egos, massaging them as we walk. We do this not for gain, but for peace and prosperity. We do it so that Drenai farmers, merchants, clerics and labourers can raise their families in peace. Druss is a hero; he can enjoy the luxury of living his own life and speaking his own truths. Diplomats cannot. Now will you help me to convince him?’