„Better than you could. Let's go over what you know today. Go see your relatives tomorrow. I'll give you a full report when you get back. We can go over any new ques tions, then you can head home."
„Sounds good to me." Dahl was eager to see the old place. He'd been happy there. He hoped he could recapture the feel of the past.
The news Bragi was awaiting finally came from Maisak. The Dread Empire legion stationed at Gog-Ahlan, a ruined city at the eastern mouth of the Savernake Gap, was pulling out. „We move in the morning," he announced. „Up to Maisak."
Sir Gjerdrum looked at him askance. Baron Hardle asked, „Why the hurry?"
„Even a fast rider needs a week to get from Gog-Ahlan to Baxendala. We want to make some noise while there's still somebody to see us."
„I have a bad feeling about this," Gjerdrum said. „Some thing doesn't smell right."
„What?"
„Just a hunch. Nothing I can put a finger on."
„Ahead of us or behind us?" Ragnarson had the same feel ing, but his intuition hadn't told him which way to jump.
„Can't say. There were those riots the other day."
The news had arrived quickly, via the watchfire telegraph running from Maisak to the capital.
„That don't seem like a problem. Credence cleaned up on them."
„Maybe it's because there are too many variables. The factionalism at home. Megelin and Norath. Yasmid. Hsung. Mist. Too many people pulling too many directions."
„That may be. Even so, we move up tomorrow. Try to look fierce, eh?"
Aral cantered to where Michael awaited him. This would be their first ride since last week's riots. „Long time no see," Michael said cheerfully. Aral scowled and grumped. „What's the matter? It's a beautiful day. Was the storm yesterday more your style?"
„I was up late last night."
„You have a partner. Let him run things. You're supposed to be staying respectable, anyway."
„Wasn't that. I was talking to some smugglers. Some back from delivering your weapons, some in from Throyes."
„And?"
„They say it's going to blow up out there. Hsung has his mind made up. He's going ahead despite orders and good sense."
„Not a lot we can do about that, is there? So why the long face?"
„I'm scared the King will get another wild hair."
„Come on."
„He's changed, Mike. He's making the long bets without thinking. He's getting arrogant about his luck. Taking chances when he doesn't have to. Maybe being King has gone to his head."
Michael couldn't disagree. „He does tend to ignore ad vice when it isn't what he wants to hear."
„I'll let you in on something, Mike. Our organization isn't betting on him. We're moving our money out of Kavelin. We don't think he's going to last."
„Why not? Everything is under control. I have the trou blemakers spotted. In a month or so... ." He dropped it. Aral didn't need to know about the Harish.
„I'm saying that one more long bet and a lot of people are going to give up on him. And a lot more will try to make something out of it. He needs to take a more realistic approach to dealing with people, too. He's got to make them want to work with him. He did that while he was Marshall."
„The mess isn't all his fault. There are some people sabotaging everything they can. They're doing their damnedest to make him look bad."
„I can guess who. There's a lot of Itaskian gold floating around my part of town. But I say that's his fault. He should have stopped it before it got out of hand."
„That's partly my fault, Aral. I was suspicious a long time ago. I didn't tell him. I figured he'd do something when he was ready. I didn't want to hurt him. He's already lost almost everybody who ever meant anything to him. That's probably part of his problem. He's sublimating it all into a devotion to Kavelin that's becoming pathologically unrea listic."
„Hey, Michael."
„What?"
„Look here. Look at me. This is Aral Dantice, the caravan outfitter's son. Not your roommate at the Rebsamen."
Michael laughed. „Sorry."
„I know what you're saying even if you don't say it in words ordinary mortals can understand. And you're proba bly partly right. But only partly."
„Well, damn. We're around already. And that's all the time I have for today."
„You'll pass the word about Hsung?"
„Of course."
„Mike? Just an idea."
„What?"
„Go see the Queen while you've still got her scared."
„What for?"
„To negotiate. Let her buy her safety by getting out of Kavelin."
„Ooh. That's dangerous, Aral. The King would have a fit."
„Even if you and Prataxis and Mundwiller were all in on it?"
„I don't know."
„You'd better do something before the hammer falls. Because like I said, I've got a hunch he'll try the long odds one more time."
„I'll think about it, Aral. I'll talk to Prataxis. That's all I can promise."
It was pure fate. Gales was at the Ministry visiting an old friend and happened to be looking out a window. He spied someone familiar marching toward the building. „Dahl Haas. What the hell are you doing here?"
„Josiah?" his friend asked.
„Uhm?"
„You look green around the gills."
„Must be coming down with something." He tried to be entertaining, amusing, whatever, to buy time, but failed. So he simply overstayed his welcome till Haas left the building.
The young Captain wasn't alone. His companion was one of Itaskia's top agents. „I'll stop boring you now," he said. He hit the street as quickly as he could. Mortin of Greyfells was at his town villa. He headed that way.
He became aware that he was being followed. He realized that some of the faces he now noticed had been around for days. Well, let them follow. He wasn't doing anything extraordinary. Extraordinary procedures would begin once he reached the villa and was able to command the Greyfells resources.
How had the kid managed to track him?... No. The important question was, how had he become intimate with someone high in the King's favor here? How much had he passed on? Was the Kavelin operation compromised?
That, Gales supposed, depended on how much Haas had been told before departing Vorgreberg.
I should have expected this, he thought. I should have made more effort to see if I was followed.
Mist examined Lord Ssu-ma's field charts. „They're up-to-date?"
„Unless he's cleverer than we think. The Throyens are massed for the attack. He has one legion in line behind them and the other trickling in from Gog-Ahlan. He's going to do it."
„How soon?"
„Tomorrow? The next day? It won't be long."
„What kind of reaction can we expect?"
„His assessment is that the Disciple's troops will collapse. He expects residual partisan activity, and some trouble in Throyen territory with followers of the Disciple. He expects his Aspirators to clear that up within two weeks. He intends to push south to Souk al Arba, establish a line, then drive into the Sebil el Selib Pass. The Disciple will be captured there or will flee westward, to be captured by Royalist forces."
„I recall a previous assessment of his going sour. What are the chances this time?"
„He might carry it off. In spite of himself."
Mist tapped the map where the Savernake Gap snaked through the Mountains of M'Hand.
Lord Ssu-ma nodded. „Ragnarson is at Maisak with the bulk of his army. He's posturing. He won't move."
Mist agreed, but asked, „Why not?"
„He has severe problems at home. He hasn't called anyone to the colors except a few militia units in outlying areas. If he were serious he would have ordered a full call-up. He'd want his rear protected from his enemies at home."
„Why is he making the gesture? Is there a connection with El Murid's people?"