Intrigues (24 page)

"If they'd had that 'accident,' it would have been the peasant Five who were Seated," Renton pointed out, his tone weary. "Since no one in a position to do anything about it would have allowed something like that, things couldn't have turned out any differently than they did. Many of the Advisors said they'd rather die than allow peasants on the Fivefold Throne, and oddly enough that's just what happened."

Yes, they died,
Kail thought to himself as he noticed the very beginning of clouds starting to roll in.
Most of the people responsible for Seating that Five are dead, but they're the lucky ones. The rest of us
aren't
dead, at least not yet…

* * *

High Lord Embisson Ruhl chose a chair and sat while Edmin looked about the house in which they would meet with the leaders of the Gracely army. Embisson had already inspected the house, even before he'd had some of his servants clean it up, and it was small but perfect. Its furnishings proved to be almost new under the sheets and dust covering them, all the services and decorations were in exquisite taste, and the stables outside were large enough to accommodate a great many horses.

"The servants almost have our meal ready," Edmin reappeared to announce in his quiet, understated way. "Lord Sembrin is just now arriving, and hopefully our guests won't be far behind him. I'm hungrier than I expected to be."

"And the meal promises to be excellent," Embisson agreed as he shifted in the chair. "Since we no longer eat such a full meal at luncheon, I find my anticipation just as keen. Do the servants understand about wearing their masks?"

"They'll put the masks on as soon as we catch sight of our guests, and won't remove them again until we give them permission to do so," Edmin responded as he walked to the tea service. "The man we have on watch at the road should give us plenty of warning, so we'll be able to don our own masks in good time. Would you like a cup of tea, Father?"

"If you don't mind," Embisson agreed again, finding the chair he sat in too comfortable to rise from. "I'm still the least bit weary from all those 'courtesy' visits we paid our peers in the area, but running all over the countryside was worth the effort. We'll be able to make very good use of the gold we collected."

"I've already begun to make use of it," Edmin responded as he turned from the tea service with two cups in his hands and a faint smile on his face. "That second group of fifty new guardsmen is now ours, and I'm in the process of locating even more groups outside this area. In the end we should have a force of more than three hundred men to return to the city with us."

"Excuse the intrusion, my lords," a servant said suddenly from the doorway behind Embisson as the High Lord took his teacup. "Lord Sembrin Noll is now approaching the front door. Shall I show him in immediately?"

"Yes, do, Rachers," Edmin told the man, and then after a brief pause continued with a somewhat wider smile. "You weren't able to see that, Father, but Rachers is already wearing his mask. Isn't it nice to have servants about who worry about being dismissed from their positions?"

"Dismissal will be the least of the worries of any servant who shows his or her face," Embisson murmured after making sure that Rachers really was gone. "I want there to be nothing whatsoever to link us to this meeting, just in case the worst happens. If the face of one of the servants is seen, you must make sure that he or she is never seen again."

"As you wish, Father," Edmin agreed in a murmur after sipping at his tea, making no effort to choose a chair of his own. "It's always better to be safe than sorry… Ah, and how are you today, Lord Sembrin?"

"I'm quite well, Lord Edmin," Sembrin Noll replied as he passed the escorting servant to enter the room. With clear courtesy Noll waited until he stood where Embisson could see him without twisting around before performing a polite bow. "Good day, High Lord Embisson. I trust you've recovered from the rigors of all your travels? You must have almost doubled the list of names I supplied."

"That I did, Lord Sembrin," Embisson admitted with a chuckle for the knowledge deliberately shown by the man. "I see you've been busy rebuilding your organization."

"A necessary effort if you and Lord Edmin are to be successful," Noll conceded with his own smile, but then his amusement faded. "Would you care to hear the latest while we await the arrival of our lunch guests?"

"From your expression I'm tempted to say no," Embisson observed, studying the man carefully. "That, however, would be complete foolishness, so please tell us what has disturbed you while you pour yourself a cup of tea."

"I'm also tempted, to pour something stronger than a cup of tea," Noll responded with a sigh as he nevertheless turned toward the tea service. "Unfortunately, this isn't the time to be under the influence of drink, so tea will have to do. I received word this morning that the peasants have been Seated, but the matter wasn't handled in quite the way we expected."

"How many ways are there to handle a Seating ceremony?" Edmin asked as he also watched the man. "Surely even peasants are able to follow the example they saw only a short time ago when the interlopers were Seated."

"I'm told that most of the peasants were prepared to do just that," Noll said over his shoulder as he filled a cup from the tea service. "What they were
unprepared
for was the desires of those to be Seated. To begin with, the Fivefold Throne is now the Sixfold Throne."

Embisson tried to think of something to say to that, but a sudden, distant memory insisted on rising. There were rather old writings, dating back to the time of the first Fivefold Blending, writings that suggested there might be more than five talents. Embisson had dismissed the veiled hints as nothing more than imagination run wild, just as everyone with sense had dismissed them. Now, though…

"How can there be more than one of each talent in a Blending?" Edmin demanded as Noll turned away from the tea service. "There
can't
be, so the peasants must be taking advantage of their position to elevate an outsider. That means we have an excellent point of attack against them, one that even the other peasants will sympathize with."

"I'm afraid not, Lord Edmin," Noll disagreed with a sigh as he moved to a chair and sat. Edmin chose his own chair, his face creased into a frown. "One of the now-Seated group explained that there's another talent called Sight magic, and they were successful at including that new talent into the Blending. The addition was what let them get the better of the Astindan invaders, and the peasants in the audience actually accepted the explanation – and the changed circumstances."

"They've accepted it for the moment," Embisson corrected as Edmin's expression changed to one of shock. The matter was highly disturbing, but Embisson's own mind had rallied quickly enough to let him think again. "Once we're back in the city, we can stress how disrespectful it is to change what's been done for so many years. We would also do well, I think, to start a rumor that there really is no such thing as a sixth talent, and the peasants were lied to. There are always a large number of peasants around who are willing to believe the worst about others, and they can rally even more support against the new Seated Blending."

"Lord Embisson, I fear that the matter won't be that easily seen to," Noll said solemnly with another sigh. "There's more involved than I've yet mentioned. The peasants were also told that classes would begin immediately, to train anyone interested in the proper use of his or her talent. Once the training is over, the peasants have been promised that they'll also be taught how to Blend."

"Those people really
are
fools," Edmin exclaimed, back to looking shocked again. "How do they expect to maintain control – and their position – if everyone can do the same as they? Are they
trying
to have themselves displaced?"

"Apparently they're trying to do exactly that," Noll agreed, his bewilderment clear. "One of the first things they announced was that their Seating would only be for a year, when new competitions would be held. They maintain that the throne belongs to the
strongest
Blending, not the first one managing to be Seated, and in a year's time those who want to compete will have had enough practice to do so."

"I don't believe this," Embisson blurted, suddenly delighted. "Lord Sembrin, are you absolutely certain that you've been given correct information? I find it hard to believe that those peasants have actually given us our victory."

"I find that just as hard to believe," Noll commented much too dryly. "I'm absolutely certain of the information I've been given, but I'm afraid I don't see anything of our victory in it."

"Perhaps that's because you haven't considered how much confusion and uncertainty such a stance creates," Embisson told the man with a smile, seeing that Edmin also needed the explanation. "If things in the city were settled and calm, we would have our hands full with trying to take over again. But when furor and confusion reign, it's much more difficult to notice the subtle doings of others. With the very thoughtful help of those peasants, we should be in position to take over again before anyone even knows we're there."

"You're saying that we'll need to move more quickly than we'd originally planned," Edmin concluded aloud with a thoughtful nod. "Yes, I can see that now, and I certainly agree. I'll do all I can to hurry that matter of hiring additional guardsmen."

"There's one area not far from here that you've somehow overlooked, Lord Edmin," Noll informed them, apparently encouraged by what Embisson had said. "It's the settlement called Reed Springs on the other side of Margintown. A band of would-be outlaws and raiders has gathered there, lording it over the immediate environs and supposedly making plans to expand its area of influence. I'm told they mean to take advantage of the confusion in Gan Garee to advance themselves, and I think if they're offered enough gold they'll join our enterprise."

"Then I'll just have to offer them enough gold," Edmin said with the faint smile that told Embisson of his vast amusement. "I appreciate the assistance, Lord Sembrin, and hope you'll continue to supply it whenever you find that I'm … overlooking something."

Noll raised his teacup with a smile that indicated his agreement to do just that, but the air of general amusement was pierced by the appearance of the servant Rachers.

"Your pardon, my lords, but word has just come that your guests are very near," the man announced briskly. "If you would care to prepare yourselves, I'll make certain that the servants are also notified."

"Yes, do that, Rachers," Edmin ordered, putting aside his teacup and rising from his chair. Edmin had put his and Embisson's masks on the table with the tea service, and now went to fetch them. Noll, on the other hand, had
his
mask in his inner coat pocket, and now withdrew it after also putting down his teacup. The mask, like the ones brought by Embisson and Edmin, was more than a simple domino. Sewed to its bottom was a length of thick black veil, an addition meant to cover the wearer's entire face. Once again, Embisson meant to take no chances about being recognized.

From the speed with which their guests arrived, Embisson had the impression that they, too, were looking forward to the meal. Rachers showed the four of them into the sitting room without speaking, then withdrew just as silently. Embisson felt relieved that he didn't know any of the four personally, but it was time to begin the meeting.

"We've come to bid you welcome to the area, my lords," Embisson said with a bow after standing. "Would you care to introduce yourselves?"

"I'm Lord Henich Rengan," the man in the lead snapped, his tone more than brusque. "What nonsense
is
this?"

Henich Rengan was a large man, larger even than Embisson although not as old. Hefty was the best word to describe his appearance, both in body and in face. His body strained the material of his elegant uniform, and his wide and square-jawed face was just short of being florid. Rengan was obviously a man who lived to be in charge, of everything around him and as many as possible of the things that weren't.

"I'm afraid that 'nonsense' isn't the proper word, Lord Henich," Embisson replied, keeping his own voice low and roughening it a bit. "'Precaution' would be more fitting, which is what these masks can be considered. You'll understand more fully when we fill you in on what's been happening. Would you care to introduce your officers as well?"

"Possibly later," Rengan stated, drawing himself up. "Right now I'd like to hear why supposed lords of this empire are hiding their identity from another of the same. And the reason had better be good."

"Nothing about this situation is good," Embisson replied dryly, then gestured to the chairs near his that had been prepared for the visitors. "If you'll take seats, I'll begin the explanation of recent events until lunch is ready. It shouldn't be long before we're able to go to table."

Rengan hesitated an instant, but then he nodded curtly and stomped toward one of the chairs. His officers followed, and Embisson examined them as they passed. The one closest to Rengan was as expressionless as he, clearly the man's next in command. He was a fairly tall man with an air of knowing what he was about, but the other two weren't the same. The first, with light red hair, strolled along as though bored by the proceedings, and the second, with brown hair, moved as though hoping no one would notice him.

"All right, you can begin now," Rengan announced once he and the second man were seated. The other two had only just reached their chairs, but Rengan seemed oblivious – or uncaring. "What are all these not-good happenings that call for your being masked?"

Embisson began a succinct – and carefully edited - description of recent events, and aside from occasional exclamations and muttered curses he wasn't interrupted. He had just completed his summation when Edmin signaled that Rachers had appeared to silently announce lunch, so the High Lord got to his feet.

"While you're digesting what I just told you, we can all begin digesting our meal," Embisson suggested. "If you and your men will follow me, Lord Henich?"