survive. Kadakithis will lose you your Empire and you could save it. Don’t you
understand this? Ranke is in retreat already. Forces are gathering here in
Sanctuary, in the last stronghold Ranke has. And this wispy-minded prince of
yours will lie abed with his snake-queen till the venom corrodes the rest of his
wits: Do you not see this? Do you see only chance in this Beysib invasion?”
He blinked again, blinked twice. “What are you talking about?”
“Do you believe all the Beysib have told about their coming here? What monstrous
coincidence-their arrival here among us just as Nisibis exerts pressure from the
north and Ranke begins to totter. I don’t believe in coincidence. I don’t trust
coincidence where wizards are concerned. Kadakithis in his folly has let a
foreign fleet in among us at our south door … while Roxane from the north
pours foreign gold into the hands of Ilsigi death squads and promises the fools
self-rule. Self-rule! Listen to me. I can take care of Roxane. But I can’t come
into the daylight. You can. You’re a man who understands hard choices. A better
man than any in Sanctuary right now, a far better man than Kadakithis-“
“I have my duty-“
“To what? To the Stepsons? Lead them.”
“We have a leader. I have a partner-“
“Critias. He follows Tempus. And Tempus-Do you understand him, half? He could
take a world. One of his men could take a city, shore up an empire. You,
Straton. And hand it to him. Tempus has a chance here-but you’re the one that
can take it for him; you’re the only one who’s in position. Ranke has a chance.