Wolf's Blood (95 page)

“In the days since I have come to the Nexus Islands,” Plik continued, “I have often wished the maimalodalum were here so that I could talk with them about the gateway network, and what it means to both the Old Worlds and the New. You must remember that in the New World the existence of the gates was largely hidden from the common people. The only ones who were brought into the secret of the network’s existence were those who were taken to the Old World to be trained in the use of magic, the potential spellcasters. Doubtless there were those here and there—lovers, special friends, a few valued advisors—who also learned of the gates, but these would not be likely to betray their knowledge to the common folks.

“I am not going to trouble you with a recapitulation of what happened when my associates came to the Nexus Islands except to ask you to accept that they had enough troubling them that they did not really think about the gates except to feel a certain vague gratitude that nothing was coming through to complicate an already complicated situation.

“I, however, perhaps as a result of my upbringing, did think about those implications. If there is anyone you can blame for those gates being closed against you, the person to blame is me. I showed my friends how traffic through the gates could unbalance what was already a precarious situation. I urged that the gates be sealed against use until our control of the Nexus Islands was secure.”

Plik stopped now and deliberately surveyed the faces of the seven arrayed before him. None of them seemed to find it in the least amusing that a creature resembling a raccoon was lecturing them. A couple—Kynan of Hearthome and Valdala of u-Chival—actually looked intimidated.

“Now we hold those gates again, and, as Derian and Ynamynet have made clear to you, we hold them more securely than before. Ironically, your invasion led us to discoveries we might not have otherwise made for years, if at all. Doubtless all of you but King Bryessidan, who rules his own land and therefore has no one to answer to, are wondering just how you will explain your loss to your rulers.

“What I am going to suggest is that you ask yourselves—and them—a completely different and more important question. Who, ultimately, is to have administration of the Nexus Islands and the gates?”

At last an interruption came, as Aurick of Pelland said sarcastically, “You have control, as we have been told repeatedly. Isn’t asking who is in control redundant?”

Plik grinned at him, the teeth-bared smile of a Beast that is as much threat as expression of amusement.

“Commander Aurick, the alliance of you seven took the gates from us once. Surely, with what you have learned you might try again someday—next year, two years from now, two months from now. And would that attempt be made by an alliance of you seven nations or perhaps an alliance of just a few? How many of you took part in this venture less from resolution that the Nexus Islands should not be closed than from fear that your neighbors might get here first?”

Plik did not need to be wise old creature to know he had hit home. He pressed his advantage.

“Now, I ask you this. Would you rather deal with your alliance of seven—seven nations, any one of which has rather a lot to gain by violating the alliance—or with the single standing government of the Nexus Islands? Think about it. Seven or one? Seven, some of whom are friends, some of whom you wouldn’t share a cup of tea with if fear hadn’t driven you to this alliance, or one. the government of the Nexus Islands, a simple group who you now know were merely undergoing a bit of governmental reorganization and would like to reopen for business pretty much as usual.”

Plik looked at Merial of Azure Towers.

“How about you, Commander Merial? Us or a continued alliance with Hearthome—and all the while wondering if Queen Iline might be borrowing a gate or two while her Once Dead were on watch?”

Merial stiffened, and Kynan glowered, but he also looked down at his boots.

“How about you, King Bryessidan?” Plik said, looking at the young king, who looked so much less martial without his armor of silver and brass. “How long before your allies are remembering your father’s actions, and taking precautions so that the son does not act the same? How much fun would it be noting that the Once Dead who hold alliance to you are always being posted with those who will watch them carefully—and never with those from your father-in-law’s land?”

Plik let his gaze shift to Talianas of Tishiolo. “And you? Your people, at least so I understand, live on the same continent as the rest of the Pellanders, but you have always been a people apart, holding to customs and languages that don’t fit. Would your four continental neighbors tolerate giving you equal rights?

“How about u-Chival, Aridisdu Valdala? You are also from a culture apart. Your land is rather poor in Once Dead, a result of somewhat stringent policies regarding what were long viewed as those who were abominations in the eyes of the Deities. Could you keep your part in the alliance of seven, or would you find yourselves shouldered out?

“Fromalf of Tavetch …” Plik looked at the bruised and battled commander. “Your people have already found that the impulsive ways of sea raiders do not work so well in this complex situation. King Hurwin is becalmed, and has discovered that sea monsters are all too real. Will he want to devote the rest of his life to the intricate political maneuvering necessary to keep this alliance going, or would he be happier to have things—mostly—as they were?”

Merial of Azure Towers raised a graceful finger in indication that she would like to speak.

“Are you saying we could go back to the way things were before, that the Nexan government would overlook this invasion as a mere misunderstanding?”

“hardly ‘mere,’” Ynamynet said without standing. “All armies participating in the battles suffered loss of life, but proportionately, we suffered far more. That could not be forgotten. Our lands were invaded, the primary resource necessary for our survival ripped from our hands, yet, even so, we are willing to continue working with you. Terms, however, will need to be worked out in advance.”

Bryessidan of the Mires interjected, “We already paid high fees for use of the gates. What more would you want?”

“For one,” Derian said, “we want the prisoners taken from us returned, or at least their bodies. Nothing else will be acceptable. Remember. The Nexus Islands no longer need you. We have contact with the New World and can slowly open negotiations with those nations for the supplies we need. We have already begun such with Grateful Peace of New Kelvin.”

“You can have your prisoners,” Bryessidan said. “Most were removed to the Mires, and I assure you, I would not countenance them being treated poorly.”

“Most?” Derian said.

“One—I don’t know whether you would term him a prisoner—chose to go instead to Pelland under the protection of Aurick of Pelland.”

Plik guessed from the tight whiteness around Bryessidan’s lips as he said this, that this last decision had not been to the king’s liking.

“Would that be Tiniel?” Plik said quickly. He didn’t trust the others to manage to speak of the traitor kindly, but he held some small amount of pity for the young man.

“It is.”

“We would like to talk to him,” Plik said, “at the very least. His sister is of our company.”

He gestured to where Isende sat to one side, her head bent over her notes.

“I believe she would like to speak with him,” Plik concluded.

Aurick of Pelland said with a formality that did not hide some hidden emotion, “If your seeing Tiniel and speaking with him is a matter upon which our continued use of the gateway nexus rests, then stand assured, I will bring him here myself. However, I will tell you that Tiniel has thrown himself under my protection, and my honor would be in question if that protection were violated.”

“Whatever that means,” King Bryessidan said. “Your honor seems flexible enough when it come to taking orders.”

He seemed to realize that he had been—to say the least—impolitic and drew in a deep breath. Then he fastened his gaze on Derian once more.

“What other terms do you have in mind?”

Derian consulted his notes. “When commerce is resumed, the gates are going to be used on a very tight schedule. There will be no more of this sending through a Once Dead and requesting service. Each client will be given set days for service, and whether they choose to use their scheduled slots or not will be up to them.”

“What about emergencies?” said Valdala of u-Chival. “These do happen.”

“We might be open to address the matter of emergencies,” Derian said with a slow smile.

Plik was reminded for all that he had met Derian in the capacity of Firekeeper’s friend and a junior diplomat, Derian’s upbringing had been as the heir apparent to a large concern involved with the carting and livery trades. Working out use of the gates might be second nature to him.

Plik slid down to sit on his chair, and listened as the negotiations began, watched as calculation took over from aimless resentment. Although they might not have acknowledged the fact aloud, the Alliance of Seven was ended, and each and every commander was now fighting for the best advantage for his or her nation alone.

Nothing was definite, but Plik thought he could see each of the seven commanders beginning to realize how onerous maintaining and operating the Nexus Islands could be— especially since there was at least one nation within their precarious alliance that each did not trust.

Two, really, for as far as Plik could see, no one trusted Queen Iline of Hearthome, and she—and her representative—shared that tendency most heartily.

We might just have peace,
he thought
, and a more secure hold on the Nexus Islands than ever before. That won’t bring back the dead, but perhaps their spirits will rest more quietly.

KING BRYESSIDAN OF the Mires stood on the shore and watched as King Hurwin the Hammer was rowed ashore by two sailors so terrified that the normally ruddy hue of their skin appeared closer to a very pale green.

The reason for their fear was obvious. The small landing craft moved along a perfectly smooth and waveless channel in the waters surrounding the Nexus Islands, waters that everywhere else rippled and spat little foam-capped wavelets. Even the oars the sailors dutifully dipped into the water did not much mar the glass smooth surface of the channel.

Bryessidan suspected that the rowers were not necessary in the least, that the forces that now enlivened the ocean surrounding the Nexus Islands could have brought the boat to land themselves.

In contrast to his fearful sailors. King Hurwin appeared calm and even interested in his surroundings. Clad in a summer-weight tunic. leggings, sea boots. and a peaked cap. he looked well for someone who had served as admiral for a large. quite probably uncoordinated fleet.

Or am I letting my own failure to dominate my fellow generals color my assessment,
Bryessidan. thought.
Certainly, if the fleet had been mine to command, each ship would have sailed its own course and at least a third would have ended up attacking each, other.

That. at least. had been the reaction when, following the long meeting in which the Nexan government had stated its position, Bryessidan had attempted to reassume leadership of the Alliance of Seven. Fromalf of Tavetch had fallen into line, and Merial of Azure Towers had not seem particularly unhappy to let him take the lead. Aridisdu Valdala was still so shocked by the presence of the jaguar she kept referring to as “Ahmyn” that she could have been led in circles by the nose and probably would not have noticed.

The other three, however, had made quite clear that they were having no more of King Bryessidan’s leadership. They still accorded him the respect appropriate to his crown, but as for the rest, they were so busy working out just how they would explain the situation to their respective rulers that they had no time for Bryessidan’s attempts to salvage the alliance.

To Bryessidan’s immense surprise, the Nexans were making no move to hold any of the commanders against their will. They weren’t even trying to hold the troops, although they were refusing to return anything but personal equipment.

When the commanders were released following the meeting, each was given a mixed human and yarimaimalom “bodyguard,” and then permitted to leave the building without further restriction. They emerged into a bright summer day, the sun already rising toward noon, and saw that the gateway hillside was aswarm with organized activity.

Derian Carter—or Counselor. Bryessidan had heard him called both—had sauntered out with them. and now he gestured toward the hillside.

“We’re sending your troops back,” he said, “or rather, we’re permitting your Once Dead to send them back. Supervised, of course, and any who didn’t want to leave for whatever reason has not been forced.”

Bryessidan was pleased to learn that the troops from the Mires had been among those to refuse to leave the Nexus Islands. Perhaps knowing their monarch’s eye was directly on them had led to this valor, but he thought that the fact that the best healers were in this group also had something to do with their determination to stay.

Unsurprisingly. the majority of the Pellanders. especially the elite units, had been the other group to resist departing their captivity. The u-Chivalum, their morale undermined by the ill omen of their commander’s mental collapse—and the prevalence of the yarimaimalom in the Nexan force—had been the most eager to leave. The troops from Hearthome had been quick to depart, and when they began to go, those from Azure Towers had decided they could not remain and leave their land vulnerable.

With that, there had been little to keep the soldiers from Tishiolo and Tavetch from joining the general exodus, and all of this had begun while each army’s supreme commander was being lectured on the changed situation.

Little did we know how changed it was,
Bryessidan thought
. All the while they were talking to us so reasonably, encouraging us to ask questions, making sure we understood just how bad matters were for us, they knew matters were infinitely worse.