The Lion of Farside by John Dalmas

Sarkia’s face and voice were pleasant and matter-of-fact. Even her aura showed no particular emotion. But beneath it all she was cold. She could pet a kitten, he told himself, then throw it in with the hounds to see if they’d kill it.

“That’s not the kind of vengeance I had in mind,” he answered, then turned the conversation to business. “Liiset told me you want an alliance. Between you and Gurtho and the rebels, with me as your general. The fact that I’m here now tells you I’m interested. But I owe my rebels more than just fighting. What they want is their independence, and I won’t accept less for them.”

“What would your Kullvordi think of playing a special role in the kingdom of Tekalos, with you as its king? And Varia your queen. I have no doubt you can produce worthy heirs, and your hillsmen could provide your royal guard; indeed the core of your army.”

Macurdy’s eyes were steady. He didn’t trust the Dynast yet, even on a provisional level. “You sketch a nice picture,” he said. “Where would the Sisterhood fit in it?”

“We want the opportunity to produce and nurture a new race, free of the empire’s threat. For that, we need all the realms from the Green River Valley to the Big River united in an alliance. And for any such alliance to persist and be truly strong, the kings must be strong and able, ruling without constant serious injustices, and the rebellions, and wars between kingdoms, that grow out of those injustices.”

“And Gurtho?”

“Gurtho has helped bring us you. It seems that was his function. His talents are few and his weaknesses a liability. Once we have an alliance, we will dispose of him.”

Macurdy nodded. She’s cold as ice, he thought. What he said next took them both by surprise. “You mentioned vengeance and Idri. Have her killed now, in front of me, and we’ll talk alliance.”

Sarkia’s face froze, shocked ugly. “I will not!” she hissed. “There are limits!”

Ah! Even to your self-control. “Limits? Good! That’s what I needed to know. All right, let’s look at the military and political possibilities. If the prospects seem reasonable, we can discuss how to go about things.”

They met for three days. Idri was always present, her hatred of Macurdy suppressed and controlled but always there, showing in her aura. Perhaps, he thought, Sarkia didn’t trust her to be with Gurtho in her present frame of mind.

Each evening Macurdy returned to the inn and his escort, and dictated a summary message for Wollerda. One of his guards wrote it; Macurdy could read Yuultal, laboriously, but its spellings were phonetically somewhat obsolete, and his own quite nonstandard.

In the morning, Blue Wing carried it to Wollerda. And each evening, Blue Wing brought Wollerda’s answer. Wollerda was leery of the Sisterhood, but as long as the discussions were exploratory and no commitments were made . . . What he’d like was an agreement that removed Gurtho without more killing, or a minimum of it, but invading the empire he considered out of the question. It was altogether too strong for that.

On the other hand, Wollerda considered a defensive alliance among the kingdoms very desirable. And while negotiations were in progress, the rebel armies were growing, arming, and training.

31: Dialog

There was a quicker route between the two rebel bases than the long rugged way through forested hills. And with their improved military position, and the abeyance of hostilities, the commanders now took that route from opposite ends, to meet at a tiny, out-of-the-way flatlander village. At what passed for an inn, but was more of a local tap house with a single room for occasional travelers. Macurdy hired it, and he and Wollerda sat across a table from each other, Wollerda’s aide at one end taking notes, and a pitcher of sassafras tea at the other. Two companies of fighting men lounged outside, and guards were stationed at the door.

“Invade the empire!?” Wollerda asked. “She’s crazy. It’s larger than all the southern kingdoms combined, has a lot more people, and it’s far better organized. Each of its dukedoms—there’s probably fifteen or twenty—has an army maybe as large as Gurtho’s; better trained anyway. Then the emperor has the Throne Army, probably five times as large, and there are garrisons in the Marches.”