When she finished, Tarhun’s eyes shifted to Khouryn. Who saw curiosity and calculation there, but none of the distrust and distaste he’d so often encountered in Chessentan faces. “And you must be the sellsword officer who helped my emissaries in Luthcheq and again on the road home,” the vanquisher said.
“Yes, Majesty,” Khouryn said.
“For that,” Tarhun said, “Tymanther thanks you. Will you and your spearmen stay on in my service, for a season or a year? I can use your skills, and I’ll pay well.”
“Thank you. But we’re content in the Brotherhood of the Griffon, and the Brotherhood already has a contract.”
Tarhun grimaced. “Which could mean that the next time I see you, it will be at the wrong end of a battlefield.”
“Maybe not, Majesty. Shala Karanok expects to have her hands full with the Great Bone Wyrm.”
“An enemy we dragonborn would gladly help her fight, if…” The monarch shook his head. In that moment, his manifest strength notwithstanding, his manner conveyed an emotion not too far removed from despair.
“Majesty,” Medrash said, “if I may speak-from the smoke in the sky, I gather we have our own war to concern us.”
“Yes,” Tarhun said. “With the ash giants.”
“They’ve been raiding for generations,” Medrash said. “But as far as I know, no one ever gave them the honor of beating the war drums for them before.”
“It’s different this time. They’re coming in greater numbers and in a more organized fashion. Someone has united the tribes. They certainly seem to be fighting more cleverly, although the details are sketchy. Many of those who engaged them didn’t return to tell the tale.” The vanquisher barked a mirthless laugh. “I know I just said I would have helped Chessenta, but in truth we could use their help just as much. And if Shala actually does attack us, or if she merely permits the genasi to cross her territory and attack, then we’ll have to fight two foes simultaneously.”
“Majesty,” Perra said, “I need to make sure I understand what’s really happening if I’m to be of any use to you. And so, though I don’t wish to give offense, I’ll ask directly-did you send raiders into Akanul and simply not tell me about it?”
Tarhun glowered. “Of course not.”
“Did you send assassins into Luthcheq?”
“Again, of course not. The dishonor aside, what possible reason could there be?”
“Did you lend warriors to High Imaskar to serve aboard her ships?”
“You know better than anyone how fast I’ve danced to stay neutral in the quarrel between Chessenta and the Imaskari. And even if my policy had changed, I need every soldier I have to fight the giants.”
“You know,” Balasar drawled, “the last I heard, the Imaskari have an ambassador in Djerad Thymar. Somebody could ask him what’s going on in their navy, and possibly unravel one little corner of this tangle, anyway.”
“That,” said Tarhun, “is a sensible idea. Certainly more sensible than what usually comes out of your mouth, scapegrace. Fetch Nellis Saradexma.”
They didn’t have to wait long. The Imaskari ambassador probably lived in apartments handy to the royal residence. Tall and thin, he had a high, broad slab of a forehead and a receding hairline that made it seem even more prominent.
Gray lines marbled his skin. Khouryn might have taken them for scars or a souvenir of some illness that marked its victims like the pox, except that the retainers accompanying Nellis had them too. Evidently the marks were a characteristic peculiar to their race, like the patterns etching the bodies of the genasi.
The envoy wore a high-collared coat with three layers of shoulder cape attached. The silvery fabric gleamed and rippled in the light. The shirt, sash, and trousers underneath were black, as were the several rings on his fingers and the wizard’s orb tucked under his arm.
He had to palm the crystal globe in one long-fingered hand to bow as the dragonborn did on entering the presence of their overlord, and he managed it deftly. “Majesty. How may I be of service?”
“You can tell me,” Tarhun said, “about the Imaskari’s naval operations against Chessenta.”
Nellis frowned. “As Your Majesty knows, Chessenta has been raiding High Imaskar for years, with no better justification than a hatred millennia out of date. We’re simply retaliating in kind. I daresay that in our place, Tymanther would do as much and more.”
“Maybe,” Tarhun said. “But the war hero believes there are dragonborn serving aboard your warships. I need to know if it’s true before I end up in the middle of your quarrel.”
Nellis hesitated. “To the best of my knowledge, Majesty, that’s not true.”
“What does that mean?” Tarhun replied. “To the best of your knowledge?”
“I have a guess,” Medrash said, “if you wish to hear it.”
Tarhun gave him a nod.
“High Imaskar has never been much of a naval power,” the paladin continued. “That’s why the Chessentan privateers were able to cause so much harm. And my suspicion is, the Imaskari still don’t have many warships they can truly call their own. Someone else is striking back at Chessenta on their behalf, and that’s why even a high official like Lord Nellis doesn’t know the details.”
The vanquisher turned his gaze back on Nellis. “Is it so?”
The envoy took a breath. “Essentially. As Sir Medrash says, my people have no great seafaring tradition. Nevertheless, we laid plans to defend ourselves from the war hero’s pirates. Then, however, enormous worms and other creatures started attacking from the Plains of Purple Dust. We’ve always had some trouble with them, but in times past the Giant’s Belt and Dragonsword ranges served as natural barriers to hold most of them back. Suddenly that didn’t seem to be true any longer. Which meant we had to counter multiple threats, not just one. It was at that point that emissaries from Murghom came to us with a proposal.”
“Murghom,” Tarhun said. His disgust was plain, and mirrored in the expressions of other dragonborn in the hall.
“Yes,” Nellis said. To his credit, his voice remained steady despite the dragonborn’s sudden hostility. “As you’d expect, not all of it, but several of the principalities allied for a common enterprise. They offered to see to our naval defense in exchange for gold, free access to the Alamber, and certain trading concessions.”
Khouryn had never visited High Imaskar-or Murghom either-but he visualized the map of the East he carried in his head, and then he understood. If they chose, the Imaskari plainly could deny the merchant vessels of Murghom passage down the Rauthenflow to the sea, or charge them a toll to traverse the river.
“I understand your need,” Tarhun said, “but it still sickens me that your empress would strike a bargain with dragons. I thought better of your people.”
“Majesty, I’m sorry if we’ve lost your good opinion. But we needed help, and neither you nor… anyone else who claimed to be our friend would join us in a fight against Chessenta. We took aid where we could get it. And earlier, I alluded to feuds and prejudices that persist even after they stop making any kind of sense. I respectfully suggest you consider the fact that the dragon princes of Murghom aren’t the same wyrms who oppressed your ancestors in the faraway land where you once lived. They’re a different group of dragons altogether.”
“A dragon is a dragon,” Tarhun replied. “Your people will learn that eventually, and I hope you don’t pay too high a price for the lesson. Now, since your people have helped to poison Tymanther’s relationship with Chessenta-”
“Majesty, as I already made clear, that isn’t so. There can’t be dragonborn on those warships, because dragonborn only come from Tymanther. If a significant number of them had traveled to Murghom to take service with the dragon princes, surely you’d know.”
Tarhun faltered, no doubt because Nellis had made a sensible argument. Assuming it was valid, it also explained why unidentified dragonborn shouldn’t be committing outrages in Luthcheq and Akanul either. Even though Khouryn had come face to face with the former and was starting to believe in the existence of the latter.