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Authors: Jerry Pournelle,Roland J. Green

Lord of Janissaries (119 page)

BOOK: Lord of Janissaries
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“Those stories are true, then?”

“You will learn.” Ganton raised his voice. “Apelles.”

“Majesty?”

“Prince Strymon, may he approach?”

“Certainly. Apelles, if you please.”

Apelles rode up to join them. “Majesty. Highness.”

“Apelles, from the moment that Prince Strymon’s army marches northward and out of Drantos, you will share with him all your knowledge of the Time, and of our preparations for it, saving only what you may know of our recent troop movements.”

“All.” Apelles tilted his head to one side. “All?”

“All. Including the sky box that talks, and the great sky-ship you have seen. All.”

“I gather I am not to go home so soon as I thought,” Apelles said dryly.

“I am certain that Yanulf will consent,” Ganton said.

Apelles grinned. “So am I. Majesty, I must send letters—”

“Of course. We will send apprentices and a priest to aid you, as befits your new station.”
And Yanulf will make you a bishop at least, or he’s going to find it harder to collect his tithes.

“May I offer advice, Majesty?” Apelles said.

“Why do you think you’re here? Speak!”

“I do not care for the reports I receive from the Green Palace,” Apelles said.

“What do you know of my father that I do not?” Strymon demanded.

“Only that Rauros grows more bold. Highness, think upon what might happen if a messenger brings a Royal Writ under the Great Seal, accusing you of treason. Or accusing Wanax Ganton of atrocities and demanding that his lands be laid waste. Or—”

“I see. I must return at once.”

“Highness, you cannot,” Apelles said. “Without you, your army will put this land to the sword.”

“Then what must be done?”

“Send Prince Teodoros. At once.”

The lady Tylara does not think much of Teodoros. How can I say this?

“Apelles, my brother is loyal, but he—”

“Is no statesman,” Apelles said. “True. He will need good advice, which we must be at pains to send often. But I see no other way.”

Strymon looked thoughtful. “It may be enough. I suppose you can suggest an advisor to accompany him?”

“Prakes, Priest of Yatar,” Apelles said.

“Um. I would have thought him young, but yes, he has my brother’s respect if any churchman does. A convert to the new faith, I believe—”

I would wager half a kingdom he is a convert, Ganton thought. “Highness, I see we must move swiftly. Shall we bring witnesses to our agreement?”

“I am ready. Yon squire is Bheroman Tarmon do Karimos. I am afraid I cannot trust many more of my officers to know our terms.”

“Bring him then. I will summon Drumold, and we five will be witness enough.”

* * *

“You are mad!” Bheroman Darkon pounded on the council table. “Withdraw? Nonsense. We lost time while you were enthralled by that highland witch, but we can still thrust to the walls of Edron in a ten-day!”

Strymon stared at the map on the table, then lifted his eyes to scan the faces of the dozen lords and officers around him. He thought most approved of Darkon’s speech. “Perhaps, if the weather holds,” Strymon said. “And what then?”

“Then we will have won!”

“We will have won nothing. Edron will not fall to threats. Let me remind you, my Lord Darkon, it is they, not we, who have the
guns
.”

At least two barons muttered approval.

“Then we must destroy them in the field. Kill or capture that boy king of theirs. That will certainly bring us victory.”

“It is easy enough to speak of destruction, and I do not doubt we could hurt Ganton badly. But my lords, the trick is to avoid being destroyed ourselves. You’ve heard the reports of our scouts. Before he left us so strangely, Matthias told us what
guns
and star weapons can do. Ganton seeks no battle. He will choose a strong position and make us come to him. My lords, I doubt no one’s courage, but this is no way to make war.”

“If you hadn’t stopped here,” Darkon said.

“My lord,” Strymon said gently, “I was ordered to remain here to await the High Rexja’s army.”

“So we serve fools—or—” Darkon caught himself.

Pity. Had he said “coward” I could have killed him with honor.
“I will not hear that said of our high king,” Strymon said. “Nor yet of me, and I would
be
a fool to remain here facing the host of Drantos on its own terms. Captain Ninas, how long will the fodder last?”

“Highness, no more than a ten-day. Even now we feed the horses but seven pecks of the eight they need.”

Bheroman Abados grunted. “And meanwhile Ganton’s tame wolf Morrone rages through
my
lands. Whatever the rest of you do, I want permission to take my forces home and put a stop to that.”

“Granted,” Strymon said.

Some of the others glared.

“My lords, many of your homes are far from here. Think upon the Time.”

“Legends,” someone said.

“It is legend that the seas rise? That the rains come late, then beat the crops into the ground? The Demon Sun is no legend.” Strymon shrugged. “I do not know what the other kingdoms will do, but Ta-Meltemos cannot afford war with men when the very gods war with one another across our lands!”

“You seek peace without the High Rexja’s permission!” someone shouted. “Treason!”

“The High Rexja is not
yet
Great King,” Strymon said. “And who here wants him to be? My lords, do you all wish to be slaves to Issardos?”

“By Vothan, it
is
treason!” Darkon shouted. “Guards! Treason, treason!”

“My lord, I think you do not wish to shout so loud, lest
my
guards believe you threaten me,” Strymon said carefully.

Darkon dashed to the tent doorway. “Soldiers! Hear me! Prince Strymon abandons the High Rexja!”

A dozen troops in the green and white of Ta-Meltemos charged forward with drawn swords. Strymon held up his hand. “Let him speak,” he said.

Darkon opened his mouth to shout, and saw that everyone within earshot wore green and white. “I see.” He turned to Strymon. “Will you let me address the troops in assembly, then?”

Strymon grinned. “Certainly, my lord. As soon as we are across the border.”

INTERLUDE
LUNA

Agzaral sat across the table from the three
Shalnuksis
. “My thanks, Excellencies, for setting the cabin temperature for human comfort.”

“You are welcome,” Karreeel answered.

Agzaral had dealt with
Shalnuksis
long enough to recognize the tone. They wanted something. It would take some time to find out what.
Shalnuksis
were long-lived and had a great deal more patience than humans.

They had arrayed themselves in their traditional pattern. Karreeel, the only one Agzaral had much experience of, sat in the middle chair. That meant the others outranked him. The
Shalnuksis
to his left wore the silver-blue tunic of the Council of Merchants. Badges of civic achievement decorated his collar. Agzaral knew nothing else about him except that his name was Lyaaarin.

The third
Shalnuksis
was Tsirovv, one of the nine members of the committee known as the Sentinels of Governance.
Shalnuksi
government was complex, with a multiplicity of officers and officials, and a Grand Council that was in theory supreme. The Sentinels were something between Ephors and ombudsmen, and were supposed to represent the best of
Shalnuksi
business ethics.

Agzaral smiled to himself. The best in business ethics did not prevent the Sentinel from coming to Luna to negotiate what was, after all, if not a criminal activity, then certainly one the
Shalnuksis
did not care to have come to the attention of the Confederation and its Council.

Tsirovv was nearing the end of a long career, begun in the year Louis XIV of France died. He was one of the few living
Shalnuksis
with a reputation for statesmanship. His presence on this unexpected delegation to Luna could mean anything.
The matter is more important than I had thought.

Agzaral’s smile was exaggerated.
Shalnuksis
did not easily read human expressions; best to make them unambiguous. “Excellencies, how may I serve you?”

Karreeel made some entries in the portable computer on the table in front of him and inclined his head toward the Councilor. The Councilor contracted his nasal slit, the
Shalnuksi
equivalent of a frown.

“Do you wish to claim that the additional heavy weapons and ammunition were procured and shipped to Tran by the Slave Les without your knowledge?”

“Should I? Excellencies, my time is yours, but surely you have not come all this way to discuss trivia. I sent Captain Galloway most of the equipment he requested, including ammunition, toilet paper, a product known as ‘Preparation H,’ and cartons of a particular brand of cigarette. I believe you have an inventory. If not, I can provide one. Are you suggesting I have overcharged you?”

“Do not be hasty,” Karreeel said. He exchanged looks left and right. “We must be certain you are in control of what can be—a delicate situation.”

Delicate. If the Council officially hears of what you’re doing, “delicate” won’t begin to describe the situation. For you or for me.
“Excellencies, many matters demand my attention, but be assured that I am fully aware of Tran and what happens there. As witness the fact that I have, here on Luna, more and better
surinomaz
than you have seen in your lifetimes.”

“Ah.” The three exchanged looks again. “We knew we had made a good choice in you, Inspector.”

“Thank you. You have arrived just in time. I was about to send the
surinomaz
to the usual place. Now you may collect it and save us all trouble.”

“Thank you. That is however not why we have come.”

“Indeed. Excellencies, I forget my manners. Will you have refreshment? I have a well-stocked bar, and the kitchen staff has been informed of your arrival. Luna is not the Capital, to be sure, but I think our provinces are not entirely barren. There is an ethanol-based drink known as ‘Grand Marnier’ which I think you might enjoy.”

“Perhaps a sip,” Karreeel said. “After our talk.”

“As you wish, Excellencies.”

“Inspector, I believe you are often invited to attend meetings of the High Commission.”

“I have been, Excellencies. Not since I was sent to Luna, of course.”

“You have agents there.” Tsirovv spoke for the first time.

Agzaral kept his smile tiny and ambiguous. “Excellencies, I have many friends in many places.”

“We know the ways of Important Slaves,” Tsirovv said. He looked again at Karreeel.

“Inspector, we have also heard disturbing rumors of the actions of the Council,” Karreeel said.

Time to get down to cases.
“Yes, Excellencies?”

“Actions that may affect our trade.”

“Ah. Excellencies, are you not aware that no one of my rank is ever truly alone?” He looked exaggeratedly at the walls.

The three exchanged glances again. “We trust your—discretion,” Tsirovv said. “We will speak if you will.”

“How may I serve you?”

Karreeel flared his nasal slits, and the color of his eyes changed to a deeper shade of blue. “Inspector, we are told that the Council is contemplating decisions regarding the development of Earth. Meanwhile, they have become much more strict about contact with humans. We have heard there was a motion to bombard Earth.”

“Tabled by a large majority,” Agzaral said.

“But the suggestion was made. Inspector, how many in the Council know of the existence of Tran?”

And now we have come to the point.
“More than one. Not all.”

“That is not a satisfactory answer.”

“It is all the answer I have, Excellencies. I have given no information to the Council. I know that at least one group of the Ader’at’eel is thoroughly aware of Tran, but they seem as determined to keep that a secret as we are.”

This time the silence was long. Agzaral had long wondered whether the
Shalnuksis
were telepathic. If so they were unique.
On the other hand, it may be equipment. Transceivers in their heads. That never worked for humans although it should have.

“We thank you,” Karreeel said.

Agzaral bowed to acknowledge the compliment.
Threw you, didn’t it? You’re not in a position to take on the Ader’at’eel. That would take a bigger coalition than you’ll ever build.

“What is the Council likely to do about Tarn?” Karreeel asked.

“Excellencies, I do not know.”

“We wish you to find out. We will not be ungrateful.”

“It will not be easy. It takes—resources—to keep my friends in the Capital.”

“We know this,” Tsirovv said.

“I believe we may be able to help,” Karreeel said.

“Excellencies, I shall endeavor to give satisfaction.”
You cannot possibly have read Wodehouse.
“Now shall I send for refreshments?”

PART SIX

BOOK: Lord of Janissaries
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