It was almost midnight before the other appeared, slipping soundlessly through the doorway of the bedchamber, all black robes and menace. By then, Sen Dunsidan had consumed several glasses of ale and was regretting it.
“Impatient, Minister?” the Morgawr asked softly, moving at once into the shadows. “Did you think I wasn’t coming?”
“I knew you would come. What do you want?”
“So abrupt? Not even time for a thank you? I’ve made you Prime Minister. All that is required is a vote by the Coalition Council, a matter of procedure only. When will that occur?”
“A day or two. All right, you’ve kept your end of the bargain. What is mine to be?”
“Ships of the line, Minister. Ships that can withstand a long journey and a battle at its end. Ships that can transport men and equipment to secure what is needed. Ships that can carry back the treasures I expect to find.”
Sen Dunsidan shook his head doubtfully. “Such ships are hard to come by. All we have are committed to the Prekkendorran. If I were to pull out, say, a dozen—“
“Two dozen would be closer to what I had in mind,” the other interrupted smoothly.
Two dozen? The Minister of Defense exhaled slowly. “Two dozen, then. But that many ships missing from the line would be noticed and questioned. How will I explain it?”
“You are about to become Prime Minister. You don’t have to explain.” There was a hint of impatience in the rough voice. “Take them from the Rovers, if your own are in short supply.”
Dunsidan took a quick sip of the ale he shouldn’t be drinking. “The Rovers are neutral in this struggle. Mercenaries, but neutral. If I confiscate their ships, they will refuse to build more.”
“I said nothing of confiscation. Steal them, then lay the blame elsewhere.”
“And the men to crew them? What sort of men do you require? Must I steal them, as well?”
“Take them from the prisons. Men who have sailed and fought aboard airships. Elves, Bordermen, Rovers, whatever. Give me enough of these to make my crews. But do not expect me to give them back again. When I have used them up, I intend to throw them away. They will not be fit for anything else.”
The hair stood on the back of Sen Dunsidan’s neck. Two hundred men, tossed away like old shoes. Damaged, ruined, unfit for wear. What did that mean? He had a sudden urge to flee the room, to run and keep running until he was so far away he couldn’t remember where he had come from.
“I’ll need time to arrange this, a week perhaps.” He tried to keep his voice steady. “Two dozen ships missing from anywhere will be talked about. Men from the prisons will be missed. I have to think about how this can be done. Must you have so many of each to undertake your pursuit?”
The Morgawr went still. “You seem incapable of doing anything I ask of you without questioning it. Why is that? Did I ask you how to go about removing those men who would keep you from being Prime Minister?”
Sen Dunsidan realized suddenly that he had gone too far. “No, no, of course not. It was just that I—“
“Give me the men tonight,” the other interrupted.
“But I need time.”
“You have them in your prisons, here in the city. Arrange for their release now.”
“There are rules about releasing prisoners.”
“Break them.”
Sen Dunsidan felt as if he were standing in quicksand and sinking fast. But he couldn’t seem to find a way to save himself.
“Give me my crews tonight, Minister,” the other hissed softly. “You, personally. A show of trust to persuade me that my efforts at removing the men who stood in your path were justified. Let’s be certain your commitment to our new partnership is more than just words.”
“But I—“
The other man moved swiftly out of the shadows and snatched hold of the front of the Minister’s shirt. “I think you require a demonstration. An example of what happens to those who question me.” The fingers tightened in the fabric, iron rods that lifted Sen Dunsidan to the tips of his boots. “You’re shaking, Minister. Can it be that I have your full attention at last?”