stand accused by the Berashi of wiping out two of their border patrols, but we have issued no orders to that effect. I have checked with the commanders in the march wards and they have not engaged Berashi troops at all this year.”
“And your agents?”
“That is the puzzle, Deus. My agents on the Berashi side of the border believe the stories. Men have been killed, and we are widely blamed for it.”
“Two possibilities, then,” Narak suggested.
“Either one of my commanders betrays me or there is a third party at work. Yes, I have given it much thought, but I cannot see a reason for either, and what third party would stand to benefit from a …” The duke’s voice tailed away and Narak found him looking very hard in his direction, but the words remained unspoken.
“Well,” Narak said. “I have asked my questions, and you have answered them as you are able. I ask you to be alert, and to inform me if something occurs that may lead you to better answers. I myself will visit the Berashi court and see for myself what their reasoning might be.”
“How shall we inform you, Deus?” The duke again. Narak suspected that Quinnial had already guessed. The young man was nodding to himself and showed no surprise at Narak’s words.
“I will leave a wolf here, in my temple. Speak to it in the hour before the sun sets and I will hear your words.”
“We shall honour it and keep it in good health, Deus,” Quinnial said.
It was all that he wanted to ask, and business being finished the duke rose to the occasion and declared that there would be a banquet in honour of their guest. This was something that Narak had half expected, and dreaded completely. Yet he knew that he must attend. It was politics. There were no special circumstances that he could use to plead his absence.
He was shown to a room where he could rest, though he needed none, and supplied with refreshments sufficient to render the banquet surplus to his requirements. Gifts were brought to his room, suits of clothes, gold, salt, spices shipped in from the Green Isles. Everything was valuable and splendid and worthless in his eyes. The trinkets would go to those of his household who pleased him, the clothes would be stored, the edibles would go to the kitchens where at least the cook would be delighted. He would be loaded down like a pack horse when he returned to Wolfguard.
The banquet was equally tiresome. He was seated among the most senior lords and ladies who provided the dullest conversation and seemed to speak to him only to flatter and praise him. He missed the impertinent curiosity of youth, and wished that he were among the scions of the great houses and the pretty girls of the court who sat with them. He heard their laughter and saw the smiles. And yet if he were among them they would be different, they would ape their elders.
Narak was seized by a sudden wave of sadness. He had sat here long ago with friends, their comradeship hard won, their respect earned. He remembered the duke, Duke Paradin, face spoiled by a broken nose and a long scar down the left side of his face. The scar had still been red and angry, but Paradin was drunk, roaring drunk and happy among the lords and knights of his army. He remembered the thud of Paradin’s fist on his back, a gesture devoid of fear. Paradin had been a friend. They had all been friends, drinking and feasting to their mighty victory so long ago.
Even in his happiness there had been a shadow. Narak had already started to withdraw from them, to pull back from the revels into the forest and Wolfguard where people stayed forever young. He had cast aside friendship, walked away the very next day and never seen them again, too afraid to watch them grow old, dreading the bitterness in their eyes when he walked among them, still young, mirroring their children’s youth.
Perhaps it had been a mistake.
He sipped his wine, fed himself morsels of
“And your agents?”
“That is the puzzle, Deus. My agents on the Berashi side of the border believe the stories. Men have been killed, and we are widely blamed for it.”
“Two possibilities, then,” Narak suggested.
“Either one of my commanders betrays me or there is a third party at work. Yes, I have given it much thought, but I cannot see a reason for either, and what third party would stand to benefit from a …” The duke’s voice tailed away and Narak found him looking very hard in his direction, but the words remained unspoken.
“Well,” Narak said. “I have asked my questions, and you have answered them as you are able. I ask you to be alert, and to inform me if something occurs that may lead you to better answers. I myself will visit the Berashi court and see for myself what their reasoning might be.”
“How shall we inform you, Deus?” The duke again. Narak suspected that Quinnial had already guessed. The young man was nodding to himself and showed no surprise at Narak’s words.
“I will leave a wolf here, in my temple. Speak to it in the hour before the sun sets and I will hear your words.”
“We shall honour it and keep it in good health, Deus,” Quinnial said.
It was all that he wanted to ask, and business being finished the duke rose to the occasion and declared that there would be a banquet in honour of their guest. This was something that Narak had half expected, and dreaded completely. Yet he knew that he must attend. It was politics. There were no special circumstances that he could use to plead his absence.
He was shown to a room where he could rest, though he needed none, and supplied with refreshments sufficient to render the banquet surplus to his requirements. Gifts were brought to his room, suits of clothes, gold, salt, spices shipped in from the Green Isles. Everything was valuable and splendid and worthless in his eyes. The trinkets would go to those of his household who pleased him, the clothes would be stored, the edibles would go to the kitchens where at least the cook would be delighted. He would be loaded down like a pack horse when he returned to Wolfguard.
The banquet was equally tiresome. He was seated among the most senior lords and ladies who provided the dullest conversation and seemed to speak to him only to flatter and praise him. He missed the impertinent curiosity of youth, and wished that he were among the scions of the great houses and the pretty girls of the court who sat with them. He heard their laughter and saw the smiles. And yet if he were among them they would be different, they would ape their elders.
Narak was seized by a sudden wave of sadness. He had sat here long ago with friends, their comradeship hard won, their respect earned. He remembered the duke, Duke Paradin, face spoiled by a broken nose and a long scar down the left side of his face. The scar had still been red and angry, but Paradin was drunk, roaring drunk and happy among the lords and knights of his army. He remembered the thud of Paradin’s fist on his back, a gesture devoid of fear. Paradin had been a friend. They had all been friends, drinking and feasting to their mighty victory so long ago.
Even in his happiness there had been a shadow. Narak had already started to withdraw from them, to pull back from the revels into the forest and Wolfguard where people stayed forever young. He had cast aside friendship, walked away the very next day and never seen them again, too afraid to watch them grow old, dreading the bitterness in their eyes when he walked among them, still young, mirroring their children’s youth.
Perhaps it had been a mistake.
He sipped his wine, fed himself morsels of
Similar Books
