No matter, he thought. They must learn to abide each other.
Abban stopped at the base of the dais, but Jardir waved him still closer. ‘You may climb three steps,’ he smiled, ‘one for each of your legs.’
Abban smirked, tapping his crutch against his leg. ‘My wives would tell you that meant I could take a fourth step as well.’
To Jardir’s surprise, Inevera laughed at this, and Jardir nodded. ‘I remember you in your bido, and think your wives flatter you, but the sound of the Damajah’s laughter pleases me. You may take the fourth step.’ Abban ascended quickly, not questioning his fortune.
‘We have consulted on your plan, and find it sound,’ Jardir said. ‘We will attack Docktown on first snow. Begin the preparations, but say nothing to anyone.’
Abban bowed. ‘The longer the secret is kept, the less chance the Laktonians will have to flee. If I had my way, even your generals would know nothing until the time came to signal the attack.’
‘It is sound advice,’ Inevera agreed.
Jardir nodded. ‘But that is not why you come to me today, Abban, and I have not summoned you. What draws you from the centre of your web?’
‘My people have made a … delicate discovery,’ Abban said. For an instant his eyes flicked to Inevera.
Jardir sighed. Was there no trust to be found anywhere in his court? ‘Speak.’
Abban bowed again, reaching into a pocket in the fine tan vest he wore over his colourful silk shirt. He withdrew the hand, holding out a lump of silvery metal.
Inevera stiffened, and Jardir, too, recognized it immediately. He was out of the throne in an instant, snatching it from the khaffit’s hand. He hadn’t held it a moment before Inevera snatched it in turn, holding it to the light, this way and that.
‘This is the same metal as the Spear and Crown of Kaji,’ she said, voicing all their thoughts.
Abban nodded. ‘Our metallurgists have long sought to unlock the secrets of the artefacts of the first Deliverer. Too pale to be gold, but neither were they silver, or platinum. Our best guess had been white gold, an alloy made by adding nickel to pure gold. Jewellers in the bazaar have been using it for centuries.’ He smiled. ‘Cheaper than gold, it sells for nearly twice the price to fools who think it exotic. This,’ he pointed to the lump of metal, ‘is electrum.’
‘Electrum?’ Jardir asked.
‘A natural alloy of silver and gold, I am told,’ Abban said.
Jardir’s eyes narrowed. ‘Told by whom?’
Abban turned, clapping loudly as Jardir himself had done before. Immediately Hasik appeared at the door. ‘Show in our guest,’ Abban called. Hasik glared at him, but when Jardir did not countermand the order, he vanished, escorting a Rizonan man into the room. The man was old, squinting in the light, his face and hands smudged with dirt. He held a hat in his hands.
‘Rennick, master of one of Shar’Dama Ka’s gold mines,’ Abban introduced. Hasik grabbed the man roughly, forcing him to his knees and pressing his forehead to the floor.
‘Enough,’ Jardir said. ‘Hasik. Leave us.’ The warrior pursed his lips, but bowed and vanished again.
‘You, Master Rennick, approach the dais,’ Jardir called. ‘Tell us what you know of this metal.’
Rennick approached, wringing the hat in his hands like a laundress. ‘It’s like I said to Abban, Yur Grace. That there is electrum. Seen it once before, when I was a boy working another mine down south. The signs are in the rock. Vein of silver ran into the gold. It don’t happen often, and there ent much of it. Yur mine is safe.’
Safe, Jardir thought, as if I care a whit for gold.
‘Can you make more of it?’ Jardir asked.
The miner shrugged. ‘Reckon so, though maybe not as pure. But why? Might fetch a fair price as a novelty, but it ent worth as much as pure gold.’
Jardir nodded, then clapped again, signalling Hasik to remove the man. ‘Make sure that man does not speak to anyone,’ he told Abban.
‘Already done,’ Abban said. ‘He will be taken right to the forges where my private smiths work, and never seen again. His family will be told he was killed in a cave-in, and compensated handsomely.’ Jardir nodded.
‘I must take it to my chamber and confirm its power,’ Inevera said.
Jardir nodded. ‘We will wait.’
Inevera looked at Abban, and Jardir cut her off with a chopping motion of his hand. ‘I am not a fool, wife. I see how you and Abban look at each other, circling my throne and marking it with your piss. But I have chosen to trust the two of you, and in this, at least, you must trust each other.’
Inevera drew in her brows, but she nodded, disappearing into her chamber and returning several minutes later.
‘What is more precious than gold?’ she asked.
Jardir looked to Abban, and both men shrugged.
‘It is an ancient question of the dama’ting seeking the Damajah’s sacred metal,’ Inevera said. ‘Precious metals conduct magic better than base ones, but even gold cannot transfer without loss.’ She held up the lump of electrum. ‘At long last, we have found the answer.’
Jardir took the lump, studying it. He lifted it and put his teeth to it, seeing the imprint they left. ‘But the crown and spear are harder than the finest steel. No hammer or forge can even scratch them. This metal is soft. It will not even hold an edge.’
‘Not now, perhaps,’ Inevera said, ‘but when charged with magic, it will be indestructible.’
Jardir felt a tingle in his crotch at the word. The thought of making more weapons as powerful as his spear was intoxicating. Suddenly winning Sharak Ka seemed within his grasp. ‘Imagine the power my warriors will have …’
Abban cleared his throat, interrupting the thought.
‘A thousand apologies, Deliverer,’ the khaffit said when Jardir looked to him, ‘but do not put the cart before the camel. As Rennick said, there is but a small vein of the stuff.’
‘How small?’ Jardir asked. He gave Abban a hard look. ‘I will know if you lie to me, Abban.’
Abban shrugged. ‘Thirty pounds? Perhaps fifty? Not enough to arm even the Spears of the Deliverer. And, I might add, you might think twice about arming any warrior with such a potent weapon, lest he begin to have delusions of grandeur.’ He smiled. ‘It’s been known to happen.’
Jardir scowled, but Inevera broke in. ‘I agree with the khaffit.’
Jardir looked at her in surprise. ‘Twice in one day? Everam’s wonders never cease.’
‘Do not grow accustomed to it,’ Inevera said drily. ‘But in this case, your weaponsmiths are not the ones best suited to make use of this discovery.’
Jardir looked at her a long time, remembering her words in the pillow chamber.
You will give the dama’ting a powerful gift today.
He nodded. ‘So be it.’
Safe in her Chamber of Shadows, Inevera stared at the lump of electrum in her left hand while slowly rolling her alagai hora in her right. She marvelled as thin tendrils of ambient magic wafted towards the electrum and were absorbed, the way a slight draught might pull at smoke. Even without wards the metal Drew, glowing dully in the wardlight.
Dama’ting frequently made jewellery with demon bone cores, but it was forbidden to coat the dice, for the transfer with other precious metals was imperfect, and had been proven to affect foretelling. She looked at her precious dice, restored at last, and smiled. She was already preparing to carve another set as a safeguard, but now she need never fear exposing them to the sun again.
Already she was pondering other applications. Hora were destroyed when their power was expended, but coated in electrum, they could be recharged, used again and again, as the Spear of Kaji. Abban had not lied when he said this power was too great to be trusted to common soldiers. Even dama’ting would stop at nothing to get more of the metal if they learned its origins. She might gift electrum-coated hora to her most trusted followers, but she would need to prepare it all herself. She looked around the chamber, considering how best to vent a forge so deep underground without sacrificing the security of her private Vault.