“Oh, come now!” Gray Harbor scolded the emperor. “I remember you as a teenager, Your Majesty. And I remember your father’s description of you just before he sent you off on your midshipman’s cruise.”
“And that description would have been what?” Cayleb asked suspiciously.
“I believe his exact words were ‘A stubborn, stiff-necked young hellion ripe for hanging,’” the earl replied with a smile. “I could be wrong about that, though. It might have been ‘obstinate,’ not stiff-necked.”
“Why did everybody who knew me then persist in thinking of me as stubborn?” Cayleb’s tone was plaintive. “I’ve always been one of the most reasonable people I know!”
Gray Harbor and Nahrmahn looked at one another, then back at their liege lord without saying a word, and he snorted.
“All right, be that way.” He selected one of the roasted, salted pistachios, peeled the shell, and popped the nut into his mouth. He picked up another while he was chewing and tossed it at the parrot, which ignored the assault on its dignity with lordly disdain. The emperor shook his head and turned his attention back to Gray Harbor with a more thoughtful expression.
“So you think Coris is seriously contemplating some sort of an arrangement with us?” he asked, carefully projecting a note of skepticism. He couldn’t very well tell Gray Harbor he’d been looking over Coris’ shoulder-or that one of Owl’s remotes had been, at any rate-at the very moment the Corisandian earl wrote the message Gray Harbor had received.
“I’d say he’s definitely contemplating an arrangement, Your Majesty,” Gray Harbor replied soberly. “Whether he actually wants to consummate anything of the sort is another matter, of course.”
“You’re saying you think this is in the nature of a sheet anchor?” Nahrmahn put in.
“Something like that, Your Highness.” Gray Harbor nodded. “Whatever else he may have been, Coris was never a fool. I’ve come to the conclusion that he underestimated you rather badly, Your Highness, but then so did everyone else. And while he doesn’t come right out and say so in his note, it has to be obvious to someone as astute and as well informed as him that it would’ve made absolutely no sense to assassinate Hektor and his son.”
“I’m not sure I’d go quite that far, My Lord,” Nahrmahn said thoughtfully. “About its making absolutely no sense, I mean. It would have been uncommonly stupid to have had him assassinated at that particular moment, I’ll grant you, but I’m sure quite a few of the world’s rulers wouldn’t have shed any tears if an enemy like Hektor were to suffer a fatal accident after he’d sworn fealty… and before he could get around to violating that oath.”
“All right, that’s true enough.” Gray Harbor nodded again. “But my point about the actual assassination stands. Not only that, but he has to realize how… convenient Hektor’s murder was from the Group of Four’s perspective. Assuming he’s genuinely committed to young Daivyn’s well-being, or simply to preserving his own future access to power in Daivyn’s eventual court, he’s got to be worried about someone like Clyntahn’s deciding that Daivyn’s death might be as helpful as his father’s was. So as far as that goes, yes, I’m inclined to think he truly is looking for a way out of Delferahk if one should become necessary.”
“But you don’t think he’s going to make a move in our direction unless he does decide it’s necessary?” Cayleb asked.
“No, I don’t. And to be fair, why should he? It’s not as if we’ve done anything that would endear us to him, and for the moment at least it’s entirely reasonable for his loyalty to Mother Church as well as whatever personal loyalty he feels towards Daivyn and Irys to push him towards staying out of our grasp. He was never as precipitous as Hektor, and I don’t see any reason for that to change now. Especially when he knows that until he’s actually forced to turn to us, he’s in a far better bargaining position in Talkyra than he’d be in Tellesberg.”
“So how do you think we should respond?”
“I’ve discussed that with Bynzhamyn and also with Ahlvyno,” Gray Harbor replied, and Cayleb nodded. Bynzhamyn Raice wasn’t simply Old Charis’ spymaster and Ahlvyno Pawalsyn wasn’t simply its finance minister; they were also two of Gray Harbor’s oldest friends and most trusted colleagues.
“Both of them agree this is an opening that’s far too valuable to pass up,” the earl continued. “Obviously, we can’t know where it’s going to lead, but there’s always the possibility it really will end up with Coris forced to seek asylum with us. From a political perspective, it would be impossible to overestimate the advantage of getting our hands-metaphorically speaking-on Irys and Daivyn. Whether we’d be able to convert that into any sort of willing cooperation on their part is another matter entirely, of course, and given Princess Irys’ obvious influence with her younger brother and her evident conviction you did have her father and her older brother murdered, Cayleb, I’d say the chances were probably less than even. On the other hand, from all reports she’s smart enough to recognize that whether we’re her favorite people in the world or not, her brother probably has no option but to cooperate with us, at least officially. Especially if Coris does believe Clyntahn had Prince Hektor killed and he’s managed to convince her of that.”
“Well,” Cayleb selected another pistachio and cracked it open, “I’m inclined to go along with you, Bynzhamyn, and Ahlvyno. So the next order of business is how we go about moving this courtship along, I suppose.”
“I expect the biggest difficulty’s going to be simply communicating back and forth,” Nahrmahn said thoughtfully. “This isn’t exactly something we can discuss with him over the Church’s semaphore system, and speaking from the perspective of an experienced intriguer, that could be a real problem, especially in a case like this. How long did it take his message to get here, My Lord?”
“The better part of three months.” Gray Harbor’s sour tone acknowledged Nahrmahn’s point. “I can’t know what route it followed, but assuming it went downriver from Talkyra to Ferayd or Sarmouth before it found a ship to bring it to Tellesberg, it had over fifteen thousand miles to travel. Which means it actually made excellent time to get here as quickly as it did.”
“But that’s the sort of delay that introduces all sorts of potential ‘cooling-off periods’ into the courtship,” Nahrmahn said. “And to be honest, the sort of thing that’s most likely to force Coris’ hand is also likely to come up in a much shorter time window than that. If he suddenly discovers Daivyn’s in active danger from Clyntahn, for example, taking three months to get a message to us would make it all but impossible to coordinate any effective response with us. A six-month two-way communications time?” The Emeraldian shook his head. “That may work for the normal political seduction, but it won’t in any sort of emergency situation.”
“That’s true, of course,” Gray Harbor admitted. “We’re still better off than we were, though, Your Highness.”
“Oh, I agree!” Nahrmahn nodded vigorously. “It’s just that I think we might be able to… speed up message times. From his end to us, at least.”
“And just how might we accomplish that?” Cayleb asked, sitting back and looking rather intently at the no longer quite so plump prince.
“Well, it occurs to me, Your Majesty, that I may have forgotten to mention one small capability of my erstwhile anti-Charisian intelligence service,” Nahrmahn said with a charming smile. “As I’m sure you’re aware, Emerald’s always been famous for its racing, hunting, and messenger wyverns.”