The Destiny of the Sword (44 page)

the catapults could be unloaded and the real attack begun.

Wallie rose and brought the wine for refills. He remained standing by the fireplace again, because he was going to need all the dominance he could find.

“That was the good news. Now, Lord Linumino? Tell them about finances.” That was a dirty trick to play on a loyal adjutant.

The pudgy swordsman scowled down at his knees. “Finances are very bad and getting worse, my lords. We can cover our running costs from day to day, but we have no money to mount an attack!”

Five faces registered shock. Six sets of eyes swung to look at Wallie.

“I am afraid that this is true,” he said. “Indeed, things are worse than that. I don’t think we can even continue to cover our day,to,day expenses much longer. I have agreed to reduce our sequestration of dock fees.”

Nnanji said, “Why?” indignantly.

“Because die poor are close to starvation!”

He got six blank stares. Economics was beyond mem, and he did not fully understand, himself. “Yes, mat money is graft, in the sense that it is not authorized by law and does not go into the city coffers. It goes to the collectors, and some of it under the table to the elders. Yes, they are parasites. But they are rich parasites, my lords. They employ servants, keep slaves, and buy services and goods in the city. We have forced them to cut back, so the poor earn less.”

Still bewilderment showed on six faces.

“Put it another way, then,” he said. “The city of Casr buys food from the countryside, right? It sells the country folk things it manufactures—pots, tools, ropes, and so on. Then the tryst brought thousands of extra mouths to feed, but did not increase production. In fact we have been buying horses and lumber and stuff like that—again from the countryside. Gold has been flowing out of the city and not coming back.”

“What has that to do with the poor?” Zoariyi asked angrily. “They never see gold.”

Wallie sighed. “And silver and tin and copper! The price of food has quadrupled since we arrived.” He looked at the disbelieving Nnanji. “Ask Una—she knows! Prices of other things are falling as desperate people sell their possessions. I repeat: The

poor are going to starve unless we take the tryst away quickly.”

They did not understand and they did not overmuch care. Wallie began to feel exasperated. ‘That rug that you are snarling at, brother. Yes, it was a gift.”

Nnanji turned red and said nothing.

“But I gave no favors in return and I intend to sell it before we leave. The same is true of most of these things. I accepted them on behalf of the tryst, because the tryst is temporary. They will help our finances in the end. Is that acceptable, brother?”

Nnanji mumbled an apology.

“Perhaps I was foolish,” Wallie said—and here he must be very careful not to bruise Boariyi’s prickly swordsman honor, or be would be storing up a challenge for after the tryst was disbanded. “But I did promise the sailors that we would pay for our transportation. They ought to contribute it as a service to the Goddess, of course, but I know sailors! Our swords would rust away first. And if we anger them, they would leave us stranded in Sen or Wal, or wherever, we would never get to the other six cities. There is the worst problem: We do not have the money to charter ships!”

Five faces stared at him hi mingled anger and despair, the sixth face was merely furious; Nnanji was never good at hiding his feelings. “How much would the first assault require, brother?”

Wallie shrugged and looked to Linumino,

“I estimate almost four thousand golds, Lord Nnanji. For supplies and transportation, and of course we shall be cut off from our income as soon as we sail.”

“He said five!”

“Who said fiver*

“Katanji.”

“What the hell has Katanji got to do with this?” Wallie barked.

“He’s offered to finance our assault.”

“You didn’t tell me that!”

“You didn’t tell me it would be needed! I wouldn’t believe him!”

“Perhaps I should put your brother on my council?”

“Perhaps you should!”

Wallie took a very deep breath, then returned to his stool as a

gesture of appeasement. Certainly the last thing he must do was to quarrel with Nnanji. The other Sevenths were now frowning, worried and uncertain.

“All right, brother,” Wallie said. “I’m sorry, I should have kept you better informed. I just thought you had your own problems. Now, what is your financial genius suggesting?”

“He’ll give us five thousand golds for the assault.” Nnanji was still surly. Money was not a fit subject for swordsmen to worry about. “And the same for each successive assault, as long as we keep winning. All except Ov. He isn’t sure about Ov.”

“And what does he expect hi return?”

Nnanji scowled and dropped his glare to the silver pelicans again. “The tower.”

“What?”

“The sorcerers pulled down a lot of buildings to make their towers and leave open spaces around them, right? Katanji wants the land. He’ll sell it and give us money to go on to the next city. He says land in a town is worth more than farmland. Is that right? It seems backward! You can’t grow things on flagstones.”

From rugs, to jewels, to livestock, to real estate? Katanji was making a logical progression to... to immense wealth! The Goddess had rewarded all those who had helped him, Wallie knew, and now he saw another example, very plainly. Was the lad himself already worth five thousand golds, or had he put together a syndicate? Did it matter?

What did matter was that the main support for Wallie’s arguments had just collapsed. This was going to be trickier than he had expected.

The other Sevenths were all grinning. They had a right to, Wallie conceded to himself. He had overlooked the possibility of tooting the sorcerers. Katnaji had not, although he might not have considered the devastation an attack would bring, or what that might do to real estate values.

“Very well,” he said grudgingly. “So we could finance the attacks mat way. But there is another problem. Suppose we attack Sen or Wal—or any of the cities on the left bank. Suppose we take the tower. What happens then?’

Honakura had not thought of what happened then. It was un,likley mat the swordsman would, even with sutras on strategy to

help. They looked blankly at him, so he explained. The sorcerers would return to the hills.

Then they saw.

“Attack Vul?” Zoariyi muttered uneasily.

They talked that over and they did not like it. It would certainly have to wait until spring, perhaps even next summer. Vul —wherever or whatever it was—would be well fortified by then.

When they had all smelled that bad egg, Wallie laid another. “Forarfi has been doing a little research for me.” He avoided looking at Nnanji, who was supposed to be Chief of Intelligence. “He has talked to all the Sixths and many Fifths. We have swordsmen here, my lords, from all over the World, He asked about other sorcerer cities, like Vul. There is one near Plo... and others, He compiled a list of eleven. I recited it to Rotanxi. He admitted that there are thirteen in all. Covens, he called them. He says that Vul is the greatest, but he may be bragging.”

The Sevenths scowled at the mention of Rotanxi.

“Are you suggesting that we should have to attack all thirteen?” Zoariyi asked waspishly.

“I am suggesting that they may attack us! So far, apparently, only Vul has these thunderbolt weapons, or only Vul has used them. The others may well be waiting to see what happens here, We may be able to scotch Vul, my lords—although I am not confident—but we can hardly hope to kill all the sorcerers there. The survivors will flee to the other cities...”

The smarter ones nodded—Zoariyi, Tivanixi, Nnanji.

Outside, the day was blustery, even in the courtyard, and the miniature canvas city there flapped and rattled in the wind.

At last Nnanji put the matter into words. “Sometimes when you try to clean a stain you spread it?”

Wallie had been thinking of cancer cells, but that would do. As a child, Nnanji had cleaned rugs for his father.

“Exactly! In truth, my lords, there is no way that the tryst can triumph completely over the sorcerers. The best we can do is drive them away for a year or two. The worst we can do is to make things much worse than they are now.”

“What are you suggesting, brother?” Nnanji demanded, his eyes glinting dangerously.

Here it came: “Try to make a treaty.”

Their hiss of anger faded away into the flapping noises from beyond the windows and the crackling of the fire.

Then they began to exchange glances, and their eyes converged at last on Nnanji. The old suspicions of Shonsu had erupted again. He had a feathermark on his eyelid, he kept a sorcerer on his ship, there was always something strange about him. But Nnanji was the known sorcerer,killer of Ov, and it was impossible to suspect Nnanji of being anything but what he claimed to be, a simple swordsman.

They were bound to obey their liege lord, but the tryst could not last forever. Wallie could force these men to violate their own sense of honor, for they must obey his commands—until the tryst was disbanded. Then they would all be at liberty to challenge him, one after another to exhaustion. Yes, they would obey, but Nnanji was a liege lord, too, and if he were to try to take the tryst away from Wallie—young as he was—the other Sevenths in their present mood would probably not argue.

Nnanji was scarlet with rage. Wallie should have warned him in advance; that had been a stupid oversight.

Finally Nnanji said, “A treaty with assassins?” as if the words burned his mouth.

“We know that they will keep their oaths,” Wallie said quietly.

“Three cities for them and four for us? Or the other way?”

“Seven for us, seven for them. I want to end the quarrel between our two crafts.”

Stunned silence,

“And what does your tame sorcerer say to this?” The older men were all going to leave it to Nnanji.

“I haven’t asked Rotanxi,” Wallie said, “I was hoping to get your agreement first. He may weU dislike the idea as much as you do. I just think that it is worth trying—the best thing for both sides. If we do attack Sen, say, we shall kill hundreds of innocent civilians. I don’t think that’s very honorable behavior.”

“I think a treaty is worse!”

Almost imperceptibly, the others were nodding.

Waltie sighed. “It is a novel idea. You need time to think about it. But remember that the sorcerers know about our cavalry and our catapults and our archers; we could not have kept them secret had we tried. They are not fools. They know the odds.

They must be worried. Now is the time to to offer terms.”

“What terms?” Nnanji spat the words.

“They get rid of their thunderbolt weapons. We extend to them die same protection we give to all other crafts. The towers remain, but we put garrisons back hi the cities.”

Nnanji’s jaw dropped. He glared incredulously at Wallie, then around at the others. Then he slumped forward, staring at the silver pelicans for along time, shaking his head, tugging at his ponytail as he did when he was thinking hard. No one else spoke. No one would meet Wallie’s gaze.

Suddenly a log in the hearth collapsed in a shower of sparks, and Nnanji looked up with a curious gleam in his eye. “What do you propose to do next, ShonsuT

“I thought I might go—we might go and talk to Rotanxi.”

“I may come, then?”

What was amusing him? Still, that was a very good idea. Nnanji would be representative for the swordsmen. If Wallie could somehow convince him, then the other Sevenths must follow.

“Certainly! Let’s do that, then. Lord Nnanji and I will go and sound out the sorcerer Seventh, my lords, and report back to you. If he turns us down flat, then my proposal is hopeless.”

They took that as a welcome dismissal. They all sprang to their feet, saluted fist on heart, and marched to the door. The last one out was Boariyi. He slammed it behind him deafeningly.

Nnanji chuckled. “I think you upset them, brother!”

“I thought I’d upset you, too.”

Nnanji wrinkled his nose in amusement. “That was when I thought you were serious! You fooled me there for a minute! Now, brother, your secrets are my secrets. What’s your real plan?”

tttt

The tryst had established its own loading dock on the waterfront. There were always swordsmen there, but the arrival of the two liege lords with their combined bodyguards made it seem like an armed encampment. An icy wind was whipping in from the

River, blowing spray. Lady Olonanghi’s factory had begun delivery of swordsmen cloaks—strange garments that left sword hilt and sword arm free—but Wallie had insisted mat the lowranks be outfitted first, for juniors spent more time out in the cold. Thus many white and yellow capes roiled in the wind around him, and a few browns, also, but the highranks and most of die middle,ranks shivered. Wallie was no exception. It was all he could do to keep his teeth from chattering.