than ten yards, though, and remained nervous.
Kunkus and the other men rolled the barrels across and lowered them down to the boat. A few minutes later, they pushed off from the jetty and, now heavily laden, with Nuza in the prow, rowed back to the ship.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nuza could not fail to notice one striking change about the city of Dronned. A pall of smoke hung over the city, rising from newly built iron foundries. When she looked more closely, she observed that large new buildings had arisen, too, though whether they housed forges or their workers it was impossible to tell.
Standing near the top of the tall sand dunes that lined the bay south of the city, she was able to overlook the city walls, about two miles north. The bloody battle of Dronned, in the first summer of the war, had been fought right there, on the flat plain that lay between the dunes and the wall.
Which made it an oddly fitting place for this meeting. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. Toshak was waiting nearby. She knew that her role in this was small but essential. She was the only person in the world who knew both of these huge, masculine personalities. She was the only one who could keep them from butting heads at this all-important encounter.
Just ahead of her, Aeswiren climbed the slope, and just behind her came the heavy tread of Klek, the bodyguard. There were just the three of them, the agreed number. Their boat, with six rowers, had remained behind at the water's edge.
One reason for such a small meeting was that Filek Biswas, the former chief surgeon of the fleet, and a genius of medicine, had begged the Emperor to keep all contact with mots, brilbies, and other folk of the Land to a minimum. He was convinced they were the source of the plague that had slain one in three of the Shasht colony.
Aeswiren had heeded the good doctor's warning, of course. In coming here alone, Aeswiren had accepted the risk that the mots might take him prisoner. Nuza said that General Toshak's word could be trusted, but Aeswiren knew that the exigencies of war could overwhelm the best intentions. Aeswiren had taken the risk, nonetheless. The gains were too great to be missed, and at this point in the game Aeswiren needed information that only this General Toshak could give him.
Besides that, Aeswiren wanted to meet this mysterious figure from Nuza's life. Aeswiren had heard much of him from Nuza, enough to know something of their history together. He wanted to put a face to the picture her words had painted.
When they were a few feet short of the dune's crest, Klek halted. Aeswiren and Nuza went on, carrying no weapons. Ahead, alone, waited a figure clad in a blue jacket with three red pins on one shoulder. The general wore no helmet nor a sword, but he radiated a sense of authority. The face was leaner than that of Nuza, harder, with deeper cheekbones and a gaunt fierceness to the eyes that Aeswiren noticed at once. Where Nuza was a dove, this mot was a hawk.
As they drew close, the mot opened his arms, stepped forward, and hugged Nuza, lifting her off the ground.
"Nuza! Nuza! Nuza!" he called out, swinging her around in complete abandon. Aeswiren gave Klek a look over his shoulder. General Toshak was obviously a character. Here was the Emperor himself, and the general was ignoring him.
"Nuza, my dearest, I thought I'd never see your face again."
Toshak crushed her in his grip.
"Toshak," she murmured, pushing him back slightly, concerned about Aeswiren's feelings. It was vital that this meeting went well. Jealousy could cloud things, ruining the clarity that they needed to have.
"Toshak," she said again. "Here, you must meet the Great King. You must not be rude to him; he is a great man."
"Bah," snorted Toshak, still holding her tightly.
"Toshak, listen. The Great King, he is a good man. You must talk with him. You can make peace."
Toshak didn't seem to hear her. "I have never heard a man described as 'good' before this. They are
Kunkus and the other men rolled the barrels across and lowered them down to the boat. A few minutes later, they pushed off from the jetty and, now heavily laden, with Nuza in the prow, rowed back to the ship.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nuza could not fail to notice one striking change about the city of Dronned. A pall of smoke hung over the city, rising from newly built iron foundries. When she looked more closely, she observed that large new buildings had arisen, too, though whether they housed forges or their workers it was impossible to tell.
Standing near the top of the tall sand dunes that lined the bay south of the city, she was able to overlook the city walls, about two miles north. The bloody battle of Dronned, in the first summer of the war, had been fought right there, on the flat plain that lay between the dunes and the wall.
Which made it an oddly fitting place for this meeting. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. Toshak was waiting nearby. She knew that her role in this was small but essential. She was the only person in the world who knew both of these huge, masculine personalities. She was the only one who could keep them from butting heads at this all-important encounter.
Just ahead of her, Aeswiren climbed the slope, and just behind her came the heavy tread of Klek, the bodyguard. There were just the three of them, the agreed number. Their boat, with six rowers, had remained behind at the water's edge.
One reason for such a small meeting was that Filek Biswas, the former chief surgeon of the fleet, and a genius of medicine, had begged the Emperor to keep all contact with mots, brilbies, and other folk of the Land to a minimum. He was convinced they were the source of the plague that had slain one in three of the Shasht colony.
Aeswiren had heeded the good doctor's warning, of course. In coming here alone, Aeswiren had accepted the risk that the mots might take him prisoner. Nuza said that General Toshak's word could be trusted, but Aeswiren knew that the exigencies of war could overwhelm the best intentions. Aeswiren had taken the risk, nonetheless. The gains were too great to be missed, and at this point in the game Aeswiren needed information that only this General Toshak could give him.
Besides that, Aeswiren wanted to meet this mysterious figure from Nuza's life. Aeswiren had heard much of him from Nuza, enough to know something of their history together. He wanted to put a face to the picture her words had painted.
When they were a few feet short of the dune's crest, Klek halted. Aeswiren and Nuza went on, carrying no weapons. Ahead, alone, waited a figure clad in a blue jacket with three red pins on one shoulder. The general wore no helmet nor a sword, but he radiated a sense of authority. The face was leaner than that of Nuza, harder, with deeper cheekbones and a gaunt fierceness to the eyes that Aeswiren noticed at once. Where Nuza was a dove, this mot was a hawk.
As they drew close, the mot opened his arms, stepped forward, and hugged Nuza, lifting her off the ground.
"Nuza! Nuza! Nuza!" he called out, swinging her around in complete abandon. Aeswiren gave Klek a look over his shoulder. General Toshak was obviously a character. Here was the Emperor himself, and the general was ignoring him.
"Nuza, my dearest, I thought I'd never see your face again."
Toshak crushed her in his grip.
"Toshak," she murmured, pushing him back slightly, concerned about Aeswiren's feelings. It was vital that this meeting went well. Jealousy could cloud things, ruining the clarity that they needed to have.
"Toshak," she said again. "Here, you must meet the Great King. You must not be rude to him; he is a great man."
"Bah," snorted Toshak, still holding her tightly.
"Toshak, listen. The Great King, he is a good man. You must talk with him. You can make peace."
Toshak didn't seem to hear her. "I have never heard a man described as 'good' before this. They are
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