“Lord Ssu-ma is your mother’s most important ally. The other Tervola is Lord Kuo Wen-chin, the man she deposed. Evidently, he and Lord Ssu-ma were close. Lord Ssu-ma saved his life and hid him. Lord Ssu-ma has revealed himself. Your mother has chosen to honor his decisions.”
Ekaterina asked, “Where does the old man fit? How come he worries you?”
That was a grownup question. “Because he was who he was. The Old Man.”
“The one who was missing here when you went to find him?”
“Yes. I thought he was dead.”
Nepanthe arrived, bringing lunch. Ethrian accompanied her, carrying Smyrena and a pail of small beer. The glow in front of Varthlokkur drew him.
He became quite animated. He pointed at the Old Man and chattered.
Varthlokkur said, “See that he doesn’t drop the baby.”
Unnecessarily. Both children did so automatically. Ekaterina said, “He says that’s the man who helped him get away when he was a prisoner, before he got turned into the Deliverer.”
“You understand him?”
“Sometimes. Not always.”
Varthlokkur was amazed. He had not realized that children often understood one another when adults heard only baby talk and halfformed word sounds.
He did not turn the moment into an interrogation. These kids would turn stubborn on principal. “That old man may be the key to the future. He’s in a bad place mentally but he could recover and help break the tyranny of the Star Rider.”
Nepanthe had come to look. “I thought he died.”
“We all did. We all thought wrong. Eka says Ethrian says he was the one who saved him on that island.”
“Does the Star Rider know he’s still alive?”
The wizard chuckled. “You all need to clear out so I can work without distractions.”
“Can it wait till after lunch?”
It could, of course, having waited so long. But Varthlokkur rushed, making no comment on Nepanthe’s effort. He had banged headlong into one of those rare moments when he could get excited again.
First thing, he had to recall the Unborn. The monster’s transit would take hours. So he went looking elsewhere while he waited.
There was fading excitement at Sebil el Selib, at the extreme range of what he could see. He missed some details. Some people thought they had been visited by the King Without a Throne but Varthlokkur found no sign of Haroun. Clearly, the incident had grown outsized because of deep fears and wishful thinking.
At Al Rhemish Megelin remained paralyzed by indecision. His advisers were content to let inaction prevail. Megelin had dragged the Royalist cause from one disaster to another. Enough. The chance that Haroun bin Yousif might return inspired a thousand hopes.
A sweep round Kavelin left Varthlokkur thinking that Mist’s plan to send Ragnarson home was pointless. Agricultural prospects had everyone outside Vorgreberg warmly optimistic. Inger’s influence continued to dwindle. Kristen’s was waxing. She and the younger Bragi, as custodians of the ideological flame, were attractive right now. The doyen Ozora made arguments the artisan and mercantile classes found irresistible.
Important men visited her by the score. Some had been regulars at Inger’s court as little as six months earlier.
Varthlokkur was tempted to ask Mist to keep Ragnarson locked up. But that might be residual animosity.
The wizard did not yet understand what had gotten into him, back when. His behavior had been irrational. He had done stupid things. So had Ragnarson. Had Old Meddler managed to twist their minds somehow?
Unlikely. Powerful though the Star Rider was, nothing suggested that he could do that. This was one of those cases where ascribing to malice or conspiracy was silly when plain old stupidity explained everything.
The looking consumed six hours. The Unborn was approaching the Dragon’s Teeth but would be two more hours in transit. Varthlokkur ate supper with Nepanthe, then returned to his long-range espionage.
He had time to take only a cursory survey but found peace and prosperity everywhere excepting for one family in Itaskia, whose properties were being seized and sold to satisfy debts undertaken to finance an adventure in Kavelin.
No new Greyfells strongman had emerged.
The Unborn arrived. Varthlokkur brought it into his Wind Tower workroom. Nepanthe would be upset when she heard. She loathed Radeachar. She was sure it would turn on them someday. She believed Radeachar’s nature would compel it to do so.
Varthlokkur knew the Unborn was a monster, but it was his monster. Every atom of evil in it was directed elsewhere. Wicked as Radeachar was, it remained an extension of the Empire Destroyer.
He overlooked its behavior while transporting Mist. He failed to acknowledge that his wife, wards, and children were not the Empire Destroyer himself.
He communed with Radeachar till well after midnight, then sent it out with a message for Mist.
He reflected on Radeachar’s reports. Something interesting might be moving under the surface in Kavelin. Folks had begun taking the Unborn into account.
…
The Empress was not visiting the Karkha Tower when the Unborn arrived. Candidate Lein She found the courage to deal with it once he understood that its behavior was not aggressive. It delivered a small wooden box addressed to the Empress. The identity of the courier declared the source of the box.
Lein She sent a man to the Empress’s headquarters. He carried a note suggesting that the Empire Destroyer could not follow her movements as closely as feared.
…
The lifeguards were too enthusiastic in their efforts to protect their Empress. They damaged the box, which had been handcrafted by Scalza. She was surprised that the boy’s effort moved her so.
The message from the wizard was important. So was that from Lein She.
Yes, it was important to keep the Old Man’s survival secret. And, yes, the Star Rider’s awareness, or lack thereof, could be tested.
Every means must be employed to help the Old Man reclaim his memory if he was so truly in revolt that the era of the Deliverer had been sparked by an act of defiance of his.
The Matayangan treaty was about to be finalized. There were no threats on any horizon. There was time for this and time for building something with her children.
Chapter Seventeen:
Year 1017 AFE:
Ghosts
" W hat a stupid thing to do,” Haroun muttered again as he inventoried his travel gear. He had to move fast. They would surround the tent before they began the search.
His only hope was to be gone before the cordon closed.
Why did he take that chance? Hearing her should have been enough. He eased out into the evening via a prepared emergency exit. No one saw him. His destination was Barking Snake’s establishment, which was abandoned if the Disciple’s criminal servants were to be believed. He would hide there.
Why in God’s Name did she have to look up just then? And, for the hundredth time, what madness had brought him to Sebil el Selib?
It was dark now. He had encountered only one man, so far, who had offered only an indifferent, surly greeting in passing.
Where was all the excitement?
Yasmid must not have reported him.
Why not? Because he was her husband? Because she thought he was imaginary?
The Disciple had reported seeing a similar ghost.
A challenge. “Who is there?”
Damn!
They had left a watchman.
…
Yasmid glared at Ibn Adim ed-Din al-Dimishqi, who was frightened but refused to let her see that a woman could scare him.
She did see and savored it. The deaths among the elderly were God’s gift, without assistance. But let Ibn Adim fear the worst.
“I have a task for you, son of Adim,” Yasmid said. “It is well-suited to your detail-oriented nature.”
“As ever, I am here to serve.”