The Desert Spear (67 page)

Keerin still did not leave, but the herald did not speak again, and for that the Painted Man was thankful.

Euchor's great hall was smaller than the Painted Man remembered, but still impressive, with soaring pillars holding up a ceiling that seemed impossibly high. It was painted to look like blue sky, with a yellow-white sunburst in the center. Mosaics covered the floor, and tapestries the walls. There was room for a crowd, as the duke held a great many balls and parties there, watching the proceedings from his high throne at the hall's end.

Duke Euchor was waiting on his throne as the Painted Man approached. Behind him on the royal dais stood three women whose uncomely faces, so like the duke's, and expensive gowns covered in jewels made it clear they were his daughters. Mother Jone stood at the foot of the dais stairs holding a writing board and pen. Opposite her were Guildmasters Ragen and Malcum. The men, retired Messengers both, stood easily with each other. Ragen whispered something to Malcum, who snickered, drawing a glare from Jone.

Next to Jone stood Tender Ronnell, the Royal Librarian. And Mery's father.

The Painted Man cursed himself. He should have expected to see Ronnell. If Mery had told him'

But while Ronnell looked at him with interest, there was no recognition in his eyes. His secret was safe, at least for now.

Two guards closed the door behind them and crossed their spears over it from the inside. 'Servants,' all with writing boards, drifted on the far side of the pillars, unobtrusive as they watched him closely.

Up close, Euchor had grown fatter and older by far than the Painted Man remembered. He still wore jewels on every stubby finger and a fortune in gold chains, but there were fewer hairs underneath his golden crown. Once an imposing figure, he now looked as if he could barely rise from his throne without help.

'Duke Euchor, Light of the Mountains and Lord of Miln,' Keerin called, 'may I present to you the Painted Man, Messenger on behalf of Duke Rhinebeck, Guardian of the Forest Fortress and Lord of Angiers.'

Ragen's voice came to him, as it always did when meeting a duke.
Merchants and Royals will walk all over you if you let them. You need to act like a king in their presence, and never forget who it is risking their life.

With that in mind, he squared his shoulders and strode forward. 'Greetings, Your Grace,' he called without waiting to be addressed. His robes whipped out as he sketched a graceful bow. There was a murmur from some at his audacity, but Euchor acted as if he did not notice.

'Welcome to Miln,' the duke said. 'We have heard much about you. I confess I was one of many who thought you a myth. Pray, indulge me.' He mimed removing a hood.

The Painted Man nodded and removed his hood, drawing gasps from around the room. Even Ragen managed to look suitably awed.

He waited, letting them all have a good look. 'Impressive,' Euchor said. 'The tales do not do justice.' As he spoke, Ragen's Warders went to work, dipping their pens to copy every symbol they saw while trying to seem inconspicuous.

This time it was Cob's voice in his mind.
Fort Miln isn't like Tibbet's Brook, boy. Here, things cost money.
He didn't think they would get much'the multitude of symbols were too small and close together'but he pulled his hood up casually, his eyes never leaving the duke's. The message was clear. His secrets would not come free.

Euchor glanced at the Warders and scowled at their lack of subtlety.

'I bring message from Duke Rhinebeck of Angiers,' the Painted Man said, producing his sealed parcel.

The duke ignored him. 'Who are you'' he asked bluntly. 'Where are you from''

'I am the Painted Man,' he said. 'I come from Thesa.'

'That name is not spoken in Miln,' the duke warned.

'Nevertheless, it is so,' the Painted Man replied.

Euchor's eyes widened at his audacity, and he leaned back, considering. Euchor was different from the other dukes the Painted Man had met in his travels. In Lakton and Rizon, the duke was little more than a figurehead to speak the will of the city council. In Angiers, Rhinebeck ruled, but it seemed his brothers and Janson made as many decisions as he. In Miln, Euchor made all the decisions. His advisors were clearly his, and not the other way around. The fact that he had ruled so long was a testament to his canniness.

'Can you really kill corelings with your bare hands'' the duke asked.

The Painted Man smiled again. 'As I was telling your Jongleur, Your Grace, come out beyond the wall with me after dark, and I'll show you personally.'

Euchor laughed, but it was forced, the color draining from his red, doughy face. 'Perhaps another time.'

The Painted Man nodded.

Euchor looked at him a long time, as if trying to decide something. 'So'' he asked at last. 'Are you, or aren't you''

'Your Grace'' the Painted Man asked.

'The Deliverer,' the duke clarified.

'Surely not,' Tender Ronnell scoffed, but the duke made a sharp gesture, and he quieted immediately.

'Are you'' he asked again.

'No,' the Painted Man replied. 'The Deliverer is a legend, nothing more.' Ronnell looked ready to speak up at that, but the librarian glanced at the duke and remained silent. 'I am just a man who has found wards once lost.'

'Battle wards,' Malcum said, his eyes alight. The only one in the room besides Ragen to have faced corelings alone in the night, his interest was no surprise. The Messengers' Guild would likely pay anything to arm their men with warded spears and arrows.

'And how did you come by these wards'' Euchor pressed.

'There is much to be found in the ruins between cities,' the Painted Man replied.

'Where'' Malcum asked. The Painted Man only smiled, letting them settle on the hook.

'Enough,' Euchor said. 'How much gold for the wards''

The Painted Man shook his head. 'I will not sell them for gold.'

Euchor scowled. 'I could have my guards persuade you otherwise,' he warned, nodding toward the two at the door.

The Painted Man smiled. 'Then you would find yourself with two less guards.'

'Perhaps,' the duke mused, 'but I have men to spare. Enough, perhaps, to pin even you down while my Warders copy your flesh.'

'None of my markings will help you ward a spear, or any weapon,' the Painted Man lied. 'Those wards are here,' he tapped his hooded temple, 'and there are not enough guards in all Miln to force them from me.'

'I wouldn't be so sure,' Euchor warned, 'but I can see you have a price in mind, so name it and be done.'

'First things first,' the Painted Man said, handing Rhinebeck's satchel to Jone. 'Duke Rhinebeck requests an alliance in driving out the Krasian invasion that has taken Rizon.'

'Of course Rhinebeck wants to ally,' Euchor snorted. 'He sits behind wooden walls, in green lands the desert rats will covet. But what reason have I to march''

'He invokes the Pact,' the Painted Man said.

Euchor waited as Jone took the letter to him, snatching it and reading it quickly. He scowled and crumpled it in his hand.

'Rhinebeck has already broken the Pact,' he growled, 'when he tried to rebuild Riverbridge on his side of the river. Let them pay back the tolls from the last fifteen years, and then perhaps I will give thought to his city.'

'Your Grace,' the Painted Man said, swallowing the urge to leap onto the dais and throttle the man, 'the matter of Riverbridge can be settled another day. This is a threat to both your peoples far beyond that petty dispute.'

'Petty'!' the duke demanded. Ragen shook his head, and the Painted Man immediately regretted his choice of words. He had never been as good at handling royals as his mentor.

'The Krasians don't come for taxes, Your Grace,' he pressed. 'Make no mistake, they come to kill and rape until the entire Northland is levied into their army.'

'I fear no desert rats,' Euchor said. 'Let them come and break themselves against my mountains! Let them lay siege in these frozen lands, and see if their sand wards can battle snow demons while they starve outside my walls.'

'And what of your hamlets'' the Painted Man said. 'Will you sacrifice them as well''

'I can defend my duchy without aid,' Euchor said. 'There are books of war sciences in my library, plans for weapons and engines that can break the savages with little loss to us.'

'If I may have a word, Your Grace,' Tender Ronnell said, drawing all eyes to him. He bowed deeply, and when Euchor nodded, he darted up the dais steps and bent to whisper.

The Painted Man's sharp ears caught every murmured word.

'Your Grace, are you sure it's wise to return such secrets to the world'' the Tender asked. 'It was the wars of men that brought the Plague.'

'Would you prefer a plague of Krasians'' Euchor hissed back. 'What will become of the Tenders of the Creator if the Evejans come''

Ronnell paused. 'Your point is well taken, Your Grace.' He bowed away.

'So you hold the Dividing,' the Painted Man said. 'But how long can Miln survive without grain, fish, and lumber from the South' The Royal Gardens may supply your keep, but when the rest of the city begins to starve, they will dig you out of your own walls.'

Euchor snarled, but he did not immediately reply. 'No,' he said at last, 'I won't send Milnese soldiers to die in the South for Rhinebeck's sake without something in return from him.'

The Painted Man seethed inwardly at the man's shortsightedness, but this was not unexpected. Now it was just a matter of negotiation.

'Duke Rhinebeck has empowered me to make some concessions,' the Painted Man said. 'He will not remove his people from their half of Riverbridge, but he will turn fifty percent of the tolls over to you for a period of ten years, in exchange for your aid.'

'Only half, for a decade'' Euchor scoffed. 'That will barely buy rations for the soldiers.'

'There is some room to negotiate, Your Grace,' the Painted Man said.

Euchor shook his head. 'Not good enough. Not good enough by far. If Rhinebeck wants my help, I want that and something more.'

The Painted Man inclined his head. 'And that is, Your Grace''

'Rhinebeck has still failed to produce a male heir, has he not'' Euchor said bluntly. Mother Jone gasped, and the other men in the room shifted uncomfortably at the unseemly topic.

'Much as Your Grace,' the Painted Man said, fighting words that Euchor waved away.

'I have grandsons,' Euchor said. 'My line is secure.'

'Your pardon, but what has this to do with an alliance'' the Painted Man asked.

'Because if Rhinebeck wishes one, he will have to marry one of my daughters,' Euchor said, looking back at the women standing unprettily behind his throne. 'With the bridge tolls as her promise gift.'

'Aren't your daughters all Mothers'' the Painted Man asked in confusion.

'Indeed,' Euchor said, 'proven breeders, all of whom have given sons, but still in the flower of their youth.'

The Painted Man glanced at the women again. They didn't seem in the flower of anything, but he made no comment. 'I mean, Your Grace, aren't they all wed''

Euchor shrugged, 'To minor Royals, all. I can dissolve their vows with a wave, and any of them would be proud to sit the throne beside Rhinebeck and give him a son. I'll even let him choose which one.'

Rhinebeck will die first,
the Painted Man thought.
There will be no alliance.

'I have not been empowered to negotiate such matters,' he said.

'Of course not,' Euchor agreed. 'I'll put the offer in writing this very day, and send my herald to Rhinebeck's court to deliver it personally.'

'Your Grace,' Keerin squeaked, again a sickly pallor, 'surely you need me here for''

'You will go to Angiers, or I will throw you from my tower,' Euchor growled.

Keerin bowed, attempting a Jongleur's mask though his distress still shone through. 'Of course it is my great honor to go, if I am absolved of my local duties.'

Euchor grunted, then turned his eyes back to the Painted Man. 'You still haven't given me a price for your battle wards.'

The Painted Man smiled and reached into his satchel, producing a grimoire of hand-sewn pages bound in leather. 'These''

'I thought you said they weren't with you,' Euchor said.

The Painted Man shrugged. 'I lied.'

'What do you want for them'' the duke asked again.

'Warders and supplies sent to Riverbridge with your herald on the way to Angiers,' the Painted Man said, 'along with a royal decree accepting all refugees from across the Dividing without toll, and a guarantee of food, shelter, and succor through the winter.'

'All that, for a book of wards' ' Euchor demanded. 'Ridiculous!'

The Painted Man shrugged. 'If you wish to buy those I sold Rhinebeck, you'd best treat with him soon, before the Krasians burn his city down.'

'The Warders' Guild will defray the costs to Your Grace, of course,' Ragen said on cue.

'The Messengers' Guild, as well,' Malcum added quickly.