“That ought to do nicely in keeping one or more of
those
five from sneaking in here,” Homin said with relieved satisfaction. “It should also impress our ‘Advisors’ and other noble visitors, showing them who’s in charge. What’s been happening with that business of the hostages Lord Rimen Howser has supposedly been putting together? He has the Earth magic peasant to use against the Earth magic user among that five, but what about any others?”
“Apparently, and to my surprise, I might add, he’s doing rather well,” Kambil said with amusement. “I’d overlooked the point that Lady Hallina is Mardimil’s mother even while I was fully aware of it, but Lord Rimen seems to overlook nothing. Lady Hallina is the second name on his list, so he was delighted to hear that she’s been forbidden to leave the city. The third name is that of a merchant, Storn Torgar, and his wife, who are the parents of our little Fire magic user, Tamrissa Domon. The fourth is a pretty little thing named Mirra Agran, who has been announcing far and wide that she and the Water magic user, Vallant Ro, are due to be married. The only one Rimen doesn’t yet have a hostage against is the Spirit magic user, and he considers that only a matter of time. He has guardsmen watching all of them, and if any of them try to leave the city they’ll be arrested and brought here.”
“That’s really good work,” Bron said with a thoughtful nod. “I never really liked Rimen, but I can’t deny that he’s been doing a good job for us. We may never need those hostages, but it’s good to know that they’rethere if we do. What about the latest reports from the west? Is there any good news in among the bad?”
“No, and our so-called military personnel are walking around looking gray and old,” Kambil said with a headshake, now more than slightly disturbed. “Someone finally sent them a message with the true situation spelled out in it, and I had to give them my solemn word that all of them would die painfully if
anyone
else found out. It seems that there’s very little left of our army in the west, as the Astindans have put together a force that ours can’t even match, not to mention stop. The invincible Astindans are now marching toward the border, and are expected to begin certain devastations to match the ones committed in
their
country by
our
army.”
“And, of course, it’s out of the question to send any warnings to the peasants in the area,” Selendi said, looking thoughtful. “We’ve been telling everyone that the trouble in the west is just something instigated by those escaped criminals in an effort to lure us to a place where we can be waylaid and murdered. So what will we do when word of the true situation starts to come in, carried by refugees fleeing the depredations? We won’t be able to laugh and say they’reimagining it all.”
“We’ll be shocked, of course, and greatly troubled,” Homin replied with a faint smile for Kambil. “I also think we ought to have a number of people executed, for giving us misleading information. After that we’ll have to send people to study the situation and bring back
accurate
intelligence, without which we can’t possibly make any plans. By that time, hopefully, we’ll be able to pull the other army from Gracely to meet the Astindans, or maybe by then the Astindans will have gotten all the revenge they want. In either event, any victories will be strictly ours, and any defeats will be the result of incompetent underlings or betrayal by conscienceless enemies.”
“Exactly,” Kambil agreed, delighted that Homin seemed to have a talent for subterfuge and circuitous excuses. “We’ll be busy directing things from here in Gan Garee, so we won’t be able to leave the city to take a personal hand in the problem. And we shouldn’t even have stray Highs or strong Middles straggling in to worry about. The Astindans aren’t accepting surrender from anyone, most especially not former members of our army. All in all, the only ones who should lose out in this matter are the peasants who are destroyed, and those of our peers who own the land the Astindans will devastate. Does anyone of any consequence own land out there in the west?”
“If they do, it will hardly be their major possession,” Bron pointed out, gesturing with his teacup. “And if it is, then they’ll be ruined. Is that something we really need to worry about?”
“Since it doesn’t involve us, of course not,” Kambil said with a small laugh. “Isn’t it marvelous that we don’t have to worry about the support of fools? There are certain to be complaints by the dozen, but we’rethe Seated Five. If the complainants leave even angrier than they were when they came, what can they do about it? The only people who knew we had help in winning the throne are no longer among the living.”
“Which is one small thing to thank Delin for,” Bron said, still speaking wryly. “There’s no way of knowing how long it will be before the confusion over who handled what is straightened out, but at least no one can step forward to announce in ringing tones that we have to
do
something for them because they helped us get what we have.”
“But that means we also don’t have those who will support us because it’s in their best interests to do so,” Kambil warned. “That support, in the form of letting us know what’s going on among our peers and in the city, would have been invaluable help, and I’ve had to substitute a cadre of spies in its place. They should find out what we need to know, and I’ll send for the rest of you when one or more of them comes to report.”
“Have you decided when we’ll practice some of the things you found in that journal?” Selendi asked. “If they give us more power over everyone, they’ll be worth whatever effort we have to put into them.”
“We have nothing scheduled for tomorrow morning, so we’ll start then,” Kambil replied, shifting in his chair. “Delin will have to be with us, of course, so you’d all better brace yourselves. His hatred and anger have grown quite a lot in the last few days, and most of the time I have to block him out. But I’m actually delighted to see that anger and hatred. If not for them, he’d probably go even more insane than he is. A pity I haven’t been able to find a replacement for him as yet. Our former Advisors did too good a job ridding themselves of those of our class whom they feared. Since I refuse to settle for one of the peasants who might have been overlooked, I’ll just have to keep searching.”
“You’ve been using Delin to measure the strength of those you’ve found, I know,” Homin said. “Is it possible Delin himself doesn’t know why you’redoing what you’redoing?”
“I’m sure he’s understood each of the three times I used him, but so what?” Kambil asked as he readied himself to stand and get another cup of tea. “At the end of each session I ordered him to forget about what went on, and also to forget any conclusions he might have come to. Delin is now the least of our worries, and we still have other things to discuss. I’ve arranged some traps just outside of the city that the rest of you don’t yet know about, so I’ll tell you about them as soon as I get more tea. If any of the rest of you need refills, please get them now.”
All three of them got to their feet as he did, so Kambil led the way to the tea service. He also decided that at the next meeting he would bring along one of his controlled servants, so that there would be no need for them to serve themselves while they talked. He and the others were too important for such menial tasks, and it was time that everyone understood that. It was also time for another public audience, and that should be held as soon as possible. After that, news from the west might start coming in, and if it came at an inconvenient time they would have to be unavailable.
A pity, Kambil thought as he stepped aside to let his followers get tea of their own. He did so love public audiences, with everyone bowing and scraping to show who their superiors were. He’d have to make a short list of invitees to the next audience, so that the proper people were seen bowing and scraping. Those he meant to invite would never live down the humiliation of having to show public deference to people they’d once disdained, which would make the whole thing even more marvelous…
CHAPTER FIVE
Delin Moord ran his hands over the arms of the chair he sat in, luxuriating in the silken feel of the fabric. His body also reveled in being held firmly but comfortably, his back no longer aching and his leg muscles no longer stiff from an incorrect height in the chair legs. He allowed himself to sit in that chair only five minutes each day, but he savored those five minutes as much as he’d savored the one decent meal he’d had since Kambil had enslaved him. And he was fairly certain that no one suspected he’d had that one decent meal…
His five minutes being up, Delin rose from the chair and returned to the hard wooden one which had been moved into that tiny sitting room in his wing of the palace. His groupmates still believed that that chair was the only one he could use, just as he was forbidden decent food and a comfortable place to sleep, not to mention use of any other room in the wing. They thought they were punishing him for what they chose to call his insanity, but it wasn’t he who was insane—or duped. Kambil was behind it all, Kambil and his Spirit magic having taken over the minds of their other groupmates, making them more slavelike than he’d been able to do with Delin.
“He wasn’t able to break my will, so he called me insane and enslaved me with drugs,” Delin muttered, letting his hatred of that wooden chair and his condition in general take over his outer thoughts again. “He still believes I’m helpless and can therefore be dismissed from consideration, but he forgets that I’ve had experience with this sort of thing before.”
A small smile curved Delin’s lips, the only outward sign of how pleased he was. Did Kambil know that Delin’s father had also had Spirit magic? The elder Moord hadn’t been nearly as strong as Kambil, but he’d had enough strength that Delin had had to learn how to think out of sight of the man’s talent at a very early age. That was why he’d developed that … separate inner self, the one which Kambil hadn’t been able to penetrate to. It had let him use that foolish female servant to escape, without anyone else knowing that he was free.
Delin’s smile widened very briefly at the memory of that female servant. After she’d freed him she’d gone and gotten him that one decent meal he’d allowed himself, and then she’d stood there beaming as she watched him swallow it down almost in a single gulp. When he’d finished every last crumb he’d sent her back with the tray, asking her to tell the cook and the other servants that Delin had refused the meal so she’d eaten it herself to keep it from going to waste. He’d followed carefully behind her, and once she’d made that announcement he’d caused her to have a fatal heart attack. The other servants had fluttered and clustered about, not knowing what to do, not knowing there was
nothing
for them to do. Delin’s secret had had to be preserved, and the cost of a single peasant life was a small one to pay for that preservation.
That had been just a few short days ago, but Delin had filled the following time with quite a bit of work. He’d been able to leave the palace only when his groupmates were asleep, but at least he’d been able to use the secret exits he’d learned about that Kambil apparently hadn’t yet found. The man really was an incompetent fool, and all the intrigues he imagined himself in the middle of were nothing but childish dabblings. Delin had been finding out about those things, and he wasn’t in the least happy with Kambil’s arrangements.
“But I’m not doing anything to change them,” he muttered aloud again, still pleased with the actionless course of action. “I intend to be there when all his marvelous plans come crashing down on his head, and it turns out that there’s no one to blame but himself. The scene will be pure delight, and he won’t even have someone to go to for comfort and support.”
That thought made Delin laugh soundlessly, so delightfully delicious was it. Kambil had made the mistake of boasting about the help he’d gotten from his grandmother, the marvelous “Grammi” he felt so close to. Well, dear Grammi’s days were numbered, and in fact were down to a mere few hours. When Delin left the palace tonight, his first task would be settling her hash in the most permanent and painful way. But it would look perfectly natural, and therefore be considered an unfortunate but ordinary death.
“But the same won’t happen to Kambil’s enemies, no indeed,” Delin murmured, watching his hands as he fit the tips of his fingers together in various patterns and poses. Kambil’s enemies would not only live but thrive, especially since Delin was prepared to heal them wherever necessary. And Delin knew just who those enemies were, thanks to the scribes who wrote down everything the Five did, even including things said at the most private meetings. That was another thing Kambil didn’t know about, the detailed history that had been kept for each and every Seated Five for the last hundred years or more.
Again Delin laughed, finding it impossible to argue the contention that some people just should not drink. It had been at a party right here in the palace some years ago that Delin had learned about the scribes, after starting a conversation with an old man who had been well on the way to being completely in his cups. The old man had sat alone, ignored by the glittering guests at the party, and Delin had discovered that the man was a minor noble and secretary to one of the most important Advisors on the board. He’d wheedled an invitation to the party, expecting to be treated as an equal by those who also attended, and had been most upset that that long-desired acceptance hadn’t come.
“It’s ’cause they don’ know how ’mportant I am,” the old man had mumbled, waving his wine glass at the partying crowd. “Took over th’ whole thing all by m’self, I did, an’ made it even better’n it was. The fools don’ know who they’resnubbin’, an’ me th’ man who knows every move th’ Five make.”
Delin, who had made it a habit to befriend all apparent outcasts for whatever secrets they might have, had been intrigued. He’d coaxed and flattered the man to explain what he meant, and so had gotten the story about the scribes. The walls of the palace were honeycombed with service passageways, with no area or room being left without at least one. From the time the first chosen Five had been Seated, nothing the Five did was unknown to the ones who had put them in their exalted place. Mute scribes were scattered throughout the passageways in the places the Five frequented the most, and any and all conversation and happenings were written down for the powerful men of the empire to peruse later.