as the Lion of Ranke bawled: “See Brachis, this is his mess as well, and tell
him my decree: either Sanctuary is made pleasing in the sight of gods and their
chosen representative-me-or you’ll both be out looking for new jobs come year’s
end.”
Molin Torchholder was too smart to wince or bridle. He stood stolidly, eyes
fixed on Theron’s hairy left ear until he was certain that the emperor was
finished.
Then he responded, “Very good, my lord emperor. I’ll see to it. But while I have
your ear-and Tempus’s-some news: Last night Prince/Governor Kadakithis pledged
his troth to the Beysib queen, Shupansea… an alliance is ours now for the
asking.”
“Really?” Theron’s manner mellowed; he rubbed his hands. “That’s the sort of
omen worth retelling.”
Tempus found his dagger in his fingers; he cleaned dirt from its chased hilt
absently, waiting for Molin’s other shoe to drop.
And drop it did: “Moreover, if I have leave to continue, sire? Many thanks.
Then: The esteemed Froth Daughter, spawn of Stonnbringer who is father of all
the Weather Gods, will marry our own archmage, the Hazard Randal. This alliance,
too, is fortuitous for-“
“What?” Tempus could scarcely believe his ears-or his good fortune.
Stonnbringer, at least, kept His word.
Molin continued, not deigning to notice the Riddler’s outburst: “-for us all.
And to make a threesome of favorable omens, I myself propose to marry-with all
suitable ceremony and with Tempus’s permission, of course-the lady Kama of the
Third Commando, daughter of the Riddler. Thus the armies and the priesthood will