Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (114 page)

“Not a fool certainly,” Eban said. “But he views the world… how shall I put it? Let’s just say that he has a unique point of view and leave it at that.”

Molan and Felda laughed at Eban’s dry tone.

Wotan looked worriedly back at his father, but Magar noticed it. He clasped his friend’s shoulder and whispered something to him. Wotan straightened at the contact and was reassured by it.

Godwinson frowned. “Molan must accompany Wotan and Magar on
Bandar’s Pride
. We can’t afford to loose the ships or the men they will carry. As it is, I’ll be explaining why I sent so many for tendays, without the added complication of losing the fleet.”

“I will enjoy that,” Molan said delighted at the prospect of testing himself against the worst storms nature could devise.

Godwinson shuddered at the thought of braving seas known to tower over the highest masts, and winds that carried ships off course by a sixty leagues in a night. The North Sea could rival the Sea of Despair for storms that could arise seemingly in the blink of an eye. Spring was the only truly safe time for ships to make their way to Camorin.

“That’s all for now, everyone. Wotan, stay behind for a moment.” The others left singly or in pairs chatting about inconsequential things, but Magar hesitated looking first to Wotan and then back to Godwinson. “You may stay Magar.”

Magar relaxed, and stepped to one side to give Godwinson room with his son.

“I wanted to say that I’m proud of you, son. I don’t want you taking foolish chances. The clans won’t be your biggest enemy in Camorin, your
brothers
will.”

“I’ll be careful, father, but I can’t stay completely safe—not in battle at least.”

“I realise that, but who can say which of the others is a guardian? You mustn’t allow your real self to shine through the mask. Try to mimic Beltran if you can, or if not, be ready to strike hard with your magic.”

Wotan stiffened at the implied lack of confidence. “I assure you that I can perform the task, father. I can be ruthless when needs be, but I prefer discussion and compromise to force.”

“I know you will do well. I have every confidence in you, but remember that force does have its place.”

“I know,” Wotan said simply.

He nodded, and turned to Magar.

“My life before his, Godwinson,” Magar said with a quick bow.

He returned the bow with respect. The bond between them had rung with Magar’s conviction.

* * *

“Relax Keppel! If you move with it, you’ll enjoy it more. Look at Bothmar, he can do it!” Vexin said from his place on the beam.

“If I relax anymore, my emperor, I’ll fall and break my neck!”

“Nonsense, it’s only a yard or so from the floor! Whatever do you do when you need to infiltrate somewhere? You can’t be afraid of heights!”

“I use a
rope!
” Keppel said testily.

Vexin laughed at the sour look Keppel gave him and continued his work. He was enjoying himself, and it was good exercise.

Keppel jumped down from his perch and watched his emperor perform a version of Lady Julia’s gymnastics. Vexin enjoyed the effort the exercises took. He had spent far too much time sitting on his throne and had developed a belly. With Dulcinea in mind, he had decided to exercise. Having a fat man lying atop her—emperor or not—couldn’t be fun, but it was supposed to be. He was determined to become the man she had married once again.

Vexin performed what he called a forward tumble, and managed it without falling onto the mattresses. He was pleased with his success. That is, he was pleased until he saw Bothmar do it on his own beam twice in succession without pausing. Vexin frowned and tried to copy it and succeeded, but he ran out of beam and had to jump down at the end of the move. Bothmar tumbled his way along his own beam and performed a breathtaking dismount. It was like a tumble in mid-air, but he managed to twist his body as well. Bothmar landed on his backside amongst the mattresses beaming fit to split his face in half.

“All right smarty, that’s enough grinning,” Vexin said testily. “Where did you learn to do that, and don’t say you made it up because I don’t believe it!”

Bothmar was full of good cheer today. He was still grinning as he approached. “Datan has been keeping an eye on the sorceress as you ordered, my emperor. I asked him to
recall
the gymnastics, but he did one better. He said he was fed up with everyone asking him to show them Julia, so he made something for me.”

Bothmar went aside to the bench along the wall and returned with something in a velvet bag. Bothmar proffered the contents to his emperor grinning all the while.

Vexin frowned at the small mirror. It was no bigger than his hand, but as soon as he touched it a picture formed. Julia walked into a room wearing her under garments. Vexin felt himself harden at the sight. He scowled at the reaction. He loved Dulcinea and no other,
no
other! His body complied with his wishes and subsided as he watched her perform an intricate dance routine.

Bothmar gestured at the mirror. “I have one of these for the beam and another for the bars, my emperor. I learned how to do my twist and tumble from watching her.”

“This mirror,” Vexin said thoughtfully. “Is Julia doing her gymnastics now?”

“No, my emperor, it’s not a scrying mirror. Datan fixed the image to the glass after he
recalled
a day when Julia was in her gym.”

“An illusion then. I’ve never seen an illusion fixed to an object before.”

Vexin watched Julia perform again. He winced as she slid down to perform something likely to split him in half if he tried it. One of her legs was stretched in front while the other was behind her. Both were flat to the floor as she danced with her hands and arms.

“Datan said it’s easier to attach an illusion to something that uses light, than to make one appear in the air.”

“This could be useful for other things,” Vexin said slowly as his thoughts raced through the possibilities. “Hmmm, I’ll have to give it some more thought. I wonder if Datan could magic up some cavalry. That would confuse the Devans all right!”

Vexin watched Julia to the conclusion of the routine then handed the glass back. He grinned thinking of the argument Datan would likely give him when he asked for mirrors the same as Bothmar had.

“Will you hear my news now, my emperor?” Keppel said sourly.

Vexin reached for his robe and began dressing. “Don’t be like that, my friend, I have few distractions to occupy my time. I don’t tell you not to breed your fish do I?”

Keppel didn’t answer, but he did smile. That was good enough. Vexin led the way to his study wondering what it was like to be Keppel. The man was dangerous true, but he must always fear another like him would appear one day and take all he held dear. Not that there was much. He had no consort—or children as far as he knew. His only passion was killing people and breeding ornamental fish. He was good at both, he thought remembering the pond in Dulcinea’s garden, and there was that missing guard last year. He idly wondered what the guard had done, but wasn’t interested enough to ask. The man had probably scared the fish or something.

“Have a seat both of you, while I pour some wine. No, I think some tea for a change.”

“Let me do that, my emperor,” Bothmar said taking the pot from Vexin.

“Very well, but you know what I think of having servants do every little thing for me.”

“Just this once,” Bothmar said bending to the task.

He smiled and shook his head. If he wasn’t careful, these two men might become real friends. The smile slipped and a frown took its place. Friends were dangerous, they left you open to attack by people willing to kidnap or kill. He smiled again. If someone tried Keppel, he wouldn’t be doing it again or anything else for that matter.

He made himself comfortable. “Now then, what news?”

Keppel looked relieved. “Methrym has been very ambitious, my emperor.”

He scowled. He didn’t like ambition, it usually meant someone was trying to assassinate him again. He found it hard to believe Methrym would want to be emperor; the man hated politics, but Vexin secretly suspected the War Leader would do well in the political arena. Politics in Tanjung quite often ended with one’s opposition dead by poison or other such device, and by all accounts, Methrym was good at killing. He wasn’t as good as Keppel, but then no one was.

Keppel took his tea from Bothmar, and to Vexin’s surprise, drank some. He usually distrusted anything not made by his or his emperor’s own hands. Bothmar had just been paid a compliment—a rather large one. Vexin wondered if he knew just how large.

Keppel put aside his empty cup. “As I informed you earlier, my emperor, Methrym killed Barthan to take charge of the army. The raids stopped immediately and many men were seen racing along the border collecting this and that. I can now report that the army has camped outside of Tanjung Nelek and a courier will arrive sometime today.”

“Today?” he said watching the spy master squirm in embarrassment. “It’s unlike you to be so late with news. What happened?”

“My sources were taken by surprise, my emperor. Methrym took your orders to heart it seems. If you remember, you ordered a… small war, I believe you termed it.”

“I remember,” he said impatiently.

“Methrym’s version of small may not match yours, my emperor. It certainly doesn’t match mine.” Keppel took a deep breath then said in a rush, “He sacked Talayan.”

“I didn’t know Talitha had a village called Talayan.”

Keppel tried again. “He sacked
invincible
Talayan—not that anything is… invincible I mean.”

He hissed in shock and Bothmar mopped tea from where he spilled it in his surprise. Vexin slumped back in his seat and stared at nothing while his thoughts raced in every direction at once. Madness, it was utter madness to attempt Talayan, yet he had succeeded in his plan. How had he done it? He shook his head, it didn’t matter now. His thoughts raced down avenues he never would have looked to go but then he froze.

“How bad was the damage do you know?” he asked calmly.

“It was total, my emperor.”

“Total?” he breathed less calmly.

“Yes, my emperor. Methrym and some of his men locked themselves in coffles and entered as slaves chained in some wagons his men pilfered along the border. He opened the gate and, well, he sacked the place. He burned the entire city to the ground after freeing every slave he could find.”

This could be utter disaster. What would Talitha do when she found out? Perhaps she was already doing it while he sat here thinking!

“Has Talitha mobilised?”

“I don’t think so. I have no news from my sources in her palace.”

That didn’t help him. Keppel’s sources might have been found out and killed. That sort of thing did happen from time to time, especially in the Protectorate, but as far as he knew, not in Japura. Talitha wouldn’t stand for this, nor would he in her place, but he might be able to stop her hard.

“Bothmar, have you your—” he began, but Bothmar was already holding parchment and a stick of charcoal. “Ah good. Note this down for me, and then write it up.”

Bothmar nodded and made ready.

“To Talitha, bitch Matriarch of the cesspit known as Japura: greetings! As I’m sure you’re aware, I have taken steps to remove a small and insignificant irritant that has nagged my borders for some time now. I am sure you are pleased, as I am, to hear that centuries of raiding along the border of our two great countries has been stopped
permanently
, and the culprits brought to justice. Underline permanently for me would you Bothmar?”

Bothmar nodded and underlined the text with his charcoal.

“Where was I? Ah yes I remember now. My dear Talitha, now that the vermin have been stamped out, we can enter into a new era of peace and trade between our two great nations. I have heard wonderful tales of the merchandise to be found in
Orrisa
, and I’m sure there are no vermin to be found there. I hope this finds you in good health blah, blah, blah. Underline Orrisa as well.”

That should rattle her. He had to make her believe that his patience with restraint was gone, and that he would sack Orrisa despite his own likely losses just as he had Talayan. Talitha couldn’t afford to lose both of her biggest trade cities. Talayan had always been the jewel in her crown, but Orrisa was just as important. It would have been important without the taxes and other revenue it brought her treasury. Its location alone made it so, just as Tanjung Karang was to him.

Bothmar looked up from his writing. “I have it, my emperor. Do you want me to ready this for your signature now?”

“No hurry, tomorrow will do. I might have something to add after I read the messages from Nelek. Do we know what kind of losses Methrym suffered?”

“I should have mentioned that,” Keppel said. “Methrym lost three hundred and two.”

Vexin blinked. “You mean he destroyed invincible Talayan for three hundred lives!”

Keppel nodded. “Three hundred and
two
dead. There were quite a few wounded but nothing more than that. Methrym brought out more than forty
thousand
slaves, many of them our own people stolen on border raids. Some of the oldest were stolen as children—they must be eighty now!”

Forty thousand new peasants—what would he do with them all? With Talayan gone, the border would be much safer—perhaps forever, but certainly for many years to come. He realised he could follow Bothmar’s plan—settle them along the border, and train the young men for garrisons. It would cost a fortune to rebuild the towns and villages, especially the forts he would need, but it would be worth it if a stable border could be created—one that would last. Odrhan and his sons would benefit immensely, it would allow them to concentrate on other concerns.

Thump!

Bothmar stood and answered the knock at the door. A guard handed Bothmar two scrolls then departed. “I think this is the message you mentioned, Keppel.”

“Read it for me, Bothmar, but just the essence for now. Keppel has already spoilt the surprise.”