Sign of chaos
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Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 Next page plan originates." "There is no need to look any further," she stated. "It is entirely my idea." "Same of your earlier statements cause me to infer that you have special connections within the Begman intelligence community." "No," she said, "only the ordinary ones. The offer is my own." "But someone would have to . . . effectuate this design." "That is the province of the secret weapon." "I would have to know more about it." "I've offered you a service and I've promised you total discretion. I will go no further as to means." "If this idea is wholly your own, it would seem that you stand to benefit from it personally. How? What's in it for you?" She looked away. She was silent for a long time. "Your file," she said at last. "It was . . . fascinating reading it. You're one of the few people here close to my own age, and you've led such an interesting life. You can't imagine how dull most of the things I have to read are-agricultural reports, trade figures, appropriations studies. I have no social life whatsoever. I am always on call. Every party I attend is really a state function in one form or another. I read your file over and over and I wondered about you. I . . . I have something of a crush on you. I know it sounds silly, but it's true. When I saw some of the recent reports and realized that you might be in great danger, I decided I would help you if I could. I have access to all sorts of state secrets. One of them would provide me with the means of helping you. Using it would benefit you without damaging Begma, but it would be disloyal of me to discuss it further. I've always wanted to meet you, and I was very jealous of my sister when you took her out today. And I still wish you'd stop by later." I stared at her. Then I raised my wineglass to her and took a drink. "You are . . . amazing," I said. I couldn't think of anything else to say. It was either an on-the-spot fabrication or it was true. If it were true, it was somewhat pathetic; if not, I thought it a rather clever bit of quick thinking, calculated to hit me in that wonderfully vulnerable place, the ego. She deserved either my sympathy or my wariest admiration. So I added, "I'd like to meet the person who wrote the reports. There may be a great creative talent going to waste in a government office." She smiled, raised her own glass and touched it to mine. "Think about it," she said. "I can honestly say I won't forget you," I told her. We both returned to our food, and I spent the next five minutes or so catching up. Bill decently allowed me to do this. Also, I think, he was waiting to be certain that my conversation with Nayda was finally concluded. At last he winked at me. "Got a minute?" he asked. "Afraid so," I said. "I won't even ask whether it was business or pleasure going on on the other side." "It was a pleasure," I said, "but a strange business. Don't ask or I'll miss dessert." "I'll summarize," he said. "The coronation in Kashfa will take place tomorrow." "Not wasting any time, are we?" "No. The gentleman who will be taking the throne is Arkans, Duke of Shadburne. He's been in and out of various Kashfan governments in fairly responsible positions any number of times over the years. He actually knows how things work, and he's distantly related to one of the earlier monarchs. Didn't get along well with Jasra's crowd and pretty much stayed at his country place the whole time she was in power. He didn't bother her and she didn't bother him." "Sounds reasonable." "In fact, he actually shared her sentiments on the Eregnor situation, as the Begmans are well aware-" "Just what," I asked, "is the Eregnor situation?" "It's their Alsace-Lorraine," he said, "a large, rich area between Kashfa and Begma. It has changed hands back and forth so many times over the centuries that both countries make reasonable-sounding claims to it. Even the inhabitants of the area aren't all that firm on the matter. They have relatives in both directions. I'm not even sure they care which side claims them, so long as their taxes don't go up. I think Begma's claim might be a little stronger, but I could argue the case either way," "And Kashfa holds it now; and Arkans says they'll damn well keep it." "Right. Which is the same thing Jasra said. The interim ruler, however-Jaston was his name, military man-was actually willing to discuss its status with the Begmans, before his unfortunate fall from the balcony. I think he wanted to repair the treasury and was considering ceding the area in return for the settlement of some ancient war damage claims. Things were actually well along and headed in that direction." "And . . . ?" I said. "In the papers I got from Random, Amber specifically recognizes Kashfa as including the area of Eregnor. Arkans had insisted that go into the treaty. Usually-from everything I've been able to find in the archives-Amber avoids getting involved in touchy situations like this between allies. Oberon seldom went looking for trouble. But Random seems to be in a hurry, and he let this. guy drive a hard bargain." "He's overreacting," I said, "not that I blame him. He remembers Brand too well." Bill nodded. "I'm just the hired help," he said. "I don't want to have an opinion." "Well, anything else I should know about Arkans?" "Oh, there are lots of other things the Begmans don't like about him, but that's the big one-right when they thought they were making some headway on an issue that's been a national pastime for generations. They've even gone to war over the matter in the past. Don't doubt that that's why they came rushing to town. Govern yourself accordingly." He raised his goblet anÒ took a drink. A little later Vialle said something to Llewella, rose to her feet, and announced that she had to see to something, that she'd be right back. Llewella started to get up also but Vialle put a hand on her shoulder, whispered something, and departed. "Wonder what that could be?" Bill said. "Don't know," I answered. He smiled. "Shall we speculate?" "My mind's on cruise control," I told him. Nayda gave me a long stare. I met it and shrugged. Another little while, and plates were cleared and more were coming. Whatever it was looked good. Before I could find out for certain, though, a member of the general house staff entered and approached. "Lord Merlin," she said, "the queen would like to see you." I was on my feet immediately. "Where is she?" "I'll take you to her." I excused myself from my companions, borrowing the line that I'd be right back, wondering if it were true. I followed her out and around the corner to a small sitting room, where she left me with Vialle, who was seated in an uncomfortable-looking high-backed chair of dark wood and leather, held together with cast iron studs. If she'd wanted muscle, she'd have sent for Gerard. If she'd wanted a mind full of history and political connivance, Llewella would be here. So I was guessing it involved magic, since I was the authority in residence. But I was wrong. "I'd like to speak to you," she said, "concerning a small state of war in which we, seem about to become engage. CHAPTER 8 After a pleasant time with a pretty lady, a series of stimulating hallway conversations, and a relaxing dinner with family and friends, it seemed almost fitting that it be time for something different and distracting. The idea of a small war seemed, at least, better than a big one, though I did not say that to Vialle. A moment's careful thought, and I shaped the query: "What's going on?" "Dalt's men are dug in near the western edge of Arden," she said. "Julian's are strung out facing them. Benedict has taken Julian additional men and weapons. He says he can execute a flanking movement that will take Dalt's line apart. But I told him not to." "I don't understand. Why not?" "Men will die," she said. "That's the way it is in war. Sometimes you have no choice." "But we do have a choice, of sorts," she said, "one that I don't understand. And I do want to understand it before I give an order that will result in numerous of deaths." "What is the choice?" I asked. "I came here to respond to a Trump message from Julian," she said. "He had just spoken with Dalt under a flag of truce. Dalt told him that his objective was not, at this time, the destruction of Amber. He pointed out that he could conduct an expensive attack, though, in terms of our manpower and equipment. He said he'd rather save himself and us the expense, however. What he really wants is for us to turn two prisoners over to him-Rinaldo and Jasra." "Huh?" I said. "Even if we wanted to, we can't give him Luke. He's not here." "That is what Julian told him. He seemed very surprised. For some reason, he believed we had Rinaldo in custody." "Well, we're not obliged to provide the man with an education. I gather he's bean something of a pain for years. I think Benedict has the right answer for him." "I did not call you in for advice," she said. "Sorry," I told her. "It's just that I don't like seeing someone trying to pull a stunt like this and actually believing he has a chance of success." "He has no chance of success," Vialle stated. "But if we kill him now, we learn nothing. I would like to find out what is behind this." "Have Benedict bring him in. I have spells that will open him up." She shook her head. "Too risky," she explained. "Once bullets start flying, there's the chance one might find him. Then we lose even though we win." "I don't understand what it is that you want of me." "He asked Julian to get in touch with us and relay his demand. He's promised to hold the truce until we give him some sort of official answer. Julian says he has the impression that Dalt would settle for either one of them." "I don't want to give him Jasra either." "Neither do I. What I do want very badly is to know what is going on. There would be small point in releasing Jasra and asking her, since this is a recent development. I want to know whether you have means of getting in touch with Rinaldo. I want to talk to him." "Well, uh . . . yes," I said. "I have a Trump for him." "Use it." I got it out. I regarded it. I moved my mind into that special area of alertness and calling. The picture changed came alive. . . . It was twilight, and Luke stood near a campfire. H had on his green outfit, a light brown cloak about his shoulders clasped with that Phoenix pin. "Merle," he said. "I can move the troops pretty fast.. When do you want to hit the place and-" "Put it on hold," I interrupted. "This is something different. " "What?" "Dalt's at the gates; and Vialle wants to talk to you before we take him apart." "Dalt? There? Amber?" "Yes, yes, and yes. He says he'll go and play someplace else if we give him the two things he wants most in the world: you and your mother." "That's crazy." "Yeah. We think so, too. Will you talk to the queen about it?" "Sure. Bring me thr-" He hesitated and looked into my eyes. |
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