Mortin started to reply. He stared over the Duke's shoulder. His eyes got big. Gales stared too. The Duke spun. „Norath! What the hell are you doing here?"
A huge man stepped into the light. Behind him two tall, muscular bodyguards looked on with eyes like chips of ice. „Our mutual friend asked me to drop in." Norath's voice was high and squeaky, completely at odds with his physical size. Gales tittered nervously.
„I wish he wouldn't keep trying to take things over."
„He doesn't see the alliance as on only when it's conve nient for you. And he has a special interest in this country. He told me to make sure you don't screw it up, the way your family usually does."
Sir Mortin rose, snatched up a sword. One of Norath's bodyguards struck the blade from the knight's hand. Red of face, the Duke said, „Take it easy. We're supposed to be friends."
„No," Norath said. „Not friends, Dane. Allies. There's a meeting tonight. I'll attend as one of your party. You'll tell no one who I am."
„Whatever you say. But why are you here really? I thought you were tied up in Hammad al Nakir."
„The opportunities here are greater." He settled near the fire. One of his bodyguards took the best meat off the roasting spit and gave it to him.
The Duke fumed quietly, schemes of vengeance shaping in his mind. He wouldn't endure humiliation from anyone.
Gales watched from outside the center of activity, wres tling his conscience for the thousandth time. Could he remain in service to a man who dealt with Magden Norath's like? He had his debt, true, but didn't he also have a higher moral responsibility? Wasn't his debt, in fact, more to Inger than to Dane's family?
Shortly after Norath appeared a messenger arrived saying that the commander of the Vorgreberg garrison had an nounced that the King was dead. Chaos ruled the city.
„Perfect," the Duke said. „We can restore order and be hailed as saviors."
The messenger added, „There's also a strong rumor saying Ragnarson's cronies have murdered the Queen and her son. The people think there's no one to take over."
„I will."
„Legally, fool. Legally."
Gales chuckled. The Duke's scheme was so much dust if Inger was dead. All those years for nothing. Couldn't happen to a more deserving soul. But his humor lasted only a moment. Inger was too dear a price for Dane's embarrass ment.
General Liakopulos led the way round west of Vorgreberg, to the barracks of the King's Own, which lay outside the city wall. He found the troops demoralized and confused. He instructed their commander to assemble them.
„Men," he said, „you've heard that the King is dead. You've heard the Queen was murdered. I give the lie to the latter right now. Her Majesty the Queen."
Inger stepped forward. Liakopulos had torchbearers illu minate her, so there would be no doubt. „There's been a battle in the east. The King was involved. We did lose it, and badly. But as yet we have no direct evidence that the King was killed. All we have are rumors started by people who want to profit from confusion and despair. It's just more of the same thing that goes on every day in Vorgreberg. Don't take it seriously. Don't sit around like men con demned. We're soldiers. Our job is to maintain order. It's time we got on with that."
He spoke a while longer, trying to restore morale. He did not scruple against lying. When he finished he turned the troops over to their captains, who prepared to move into the city.
„Major, they seem a little weak, number wise. What happened?"
„Desertions. We lost close to seventy men. All the Marena Dimura scouts. Most of the lads of Nordmen background. The Wessons stood up better."
„They were always a more solid lot. All right. We're going to split the force into two companies. One will accompany the Queen to the palace. The other will follow me to the Vorgreberger barracks. We'll get them stirring, then start clearing the streets."
The Major looked out his window. An orange glow illuminated the underbelly of the clouds. „It may be too big a job for the tools at hand. General."
„We'll try anyway, Major. That's our job. Don't relay your doubts to your men."
„Of course not, sir. If you'll excuse me? Your Majesty?"
„One moment," Michael said, speaking for the first time. „Where's Colonel Abaca?"
„I haven't heard anything since he ordered us into bar racks."
„1 see. Thank you."
Passing through the city's unguarded, deserted, open western gate, Michael told Inger, „That damned Credence wanted this. Guess he figured he wouldn't leave you much to take over. Damn. He was a good man, too."
„I never saw much good in him."
„You looked at him as Marena Dimura, not as a man. Till today he was a perfect soldier. But for Bragi."
Inger didn't respond.
„Bragi was the glue that held everything together," Mi chael mused. „Even the Estates respected him. His is going to be a hard act to follow."
„Don't try to sell me anything, Michael."
Shouts came from the head of the column. A squadron whooped off after a band of looters. They were rounded up, tied neck to neck, and forced to march alongside. The number of prisoners grew steadily, though Michael insisted the column keep to the quieter parts of town.
„They should be cut down where they're found," Inger complained.
„Part of the problem is Credence's savagery earlier," Michael countered. „There's a place for savagery, but not when you're trying to smooth troubled waters. If we butch ered anybody now we'd just get more angry people. You can't intimidate a mob. It grows faster than you can cut it apart. When you're dealing with a more limited, planned thing, like the riots a while back, then savagery can have some value."
He glanced over. Inger wasn't really listening. Since departing the manor she had retreated ever farther into herself. She was realizing how much had settled onto her shoulders.
There was a mob at the palace gate. Nordmen agitators were trying to get them to break in. The Guard was showing admirable restraint by not firing on them. Inger snapped, „Wait! Let me try first," as the company commander began dispersing for a charge.
„Your Majesty... ."
„They think I'm dead. Seeing me may calm them down."
Michael nodded. „I was right. You do have courage when it counts. Let her, Captain. Fiana used to do this sort of thing and people loved her for it." Something touched his cheek coolly. He held out a hand. Sprinkles. He looked at the fire-bellied clouds over the Quarter. They seemed lower and fatter. „It may rain. Wouldn't that be lovely?"
Inger looked at him strangely. „I'm scared to death, Michael. I wasn't born without fear the way you were."
Michael felt for more raindrops and replied, „That's courage, Your Majesty. Courage is what makes you go ahead, despite your fear, and do what needs to be done. Ah. Comes the cold wind. Lovely indeed."
Inger smiled weakly. „That's supportive. A little oblique, but supportive."
„I'll go with you. Captain, how about half a dozen men, just to stay close?"
„Very well." The captain called names. Inger started forward. Michael nudged his mount, caught up, smiling into the teeth of the rising wind. The six men hurried after him.
There was enough light round the gate, from torches in the mob and lights on the wall, for Inger to be recognized. Word spread quickly. Rioters quieted, gawked. Agitators gulped and fled into the shadows. People backed out of Inger's path. A few dropped to one knee and bowed their heads. Someone atop the wall had the presence of mind to sound trumpets and add to the impact.
The mob began dispersing as the gate opened and twenty Guardsmen came forth. They began departing even faster when Michael took out a scrap of paper and nib of charcoal and pretended to be noting names. It was one moment when his reputation was a positive. As they passed beneath the wall, Trebilcock said, „They'll spread the word. Things will start calming down. If a good storm breaks, so much the better. They'll go home to get out of the rain." Distant thunder punctuated his final remark.