"Good for you!" Grus said. "Nice to know the civil war between Korkut and Sanjar is still going on."
Knowing that was especially nice after Bori-Bars had led the army of both princes' backers against the Avornans. Maybe the Banished One didn't bother uniting the Menteshe unless something more important than one courier was at stake. Or maybe Sanjar's shamans really had worked out a way to keep him from doing that. Grus hoped so.
"I had bad dreams all the way down, too," the courier said. "But the gods in the heavens watched over me and kept me safe."
"No doubt," Grus said, doubting. How often did the gods in the heavens pay any attention to what went on down here in the material world? Not often enough. But, even if Grus had trouble staying confident in them, he didn't want to damage the other man's faith, so he let it go at that.
He opened the message tube and drew out the letter inside.
Another sheet came out with it. Grus unrolled that one first. It was a sketch of a town, as seen from outside. Grus blinked. He'd known Lanius could draw, but he hadn't had any idea the other king was this good.
He started to give his attention to the letter, then looked back at the sketch again. From that sketch, his eyes snapped to the walls of Yozgat. "By the gods!" he muttered. Lanius was not only better than he'd thought, but much better than he'd thought. There could be no doubt about it – the other king had produced an outstanding portrait of a city he'd never seen.
Lanius had made mistakes. The texture of the stone didn't quite match that of Yozgat's walls, and the proportions of the towers were subtly off. But it was unmistakably Yozgat.
More than a little reluctantly, Grus rolled up the sketch and broke the seal on the letter. When he finished reading it, he shook his head in reluctant admiration and respect. The letter was as precise as the sketch – and, like it, had a few details that weren't quite the way they were supposed to be.
As with the sketch, those didn't worry Grus. They just reminded him that Lanius was human – for all his cleverness, he didn't see everything there was to see. Noting as much relieved Grus. He decided there might still be some point after all to his having a share of the crown.
And, here, he saw very clearly what needed doing. He went over to Pterocles' tent and stuck his head inside. "Oh, good," he said. "You're here."
"No, not really," the wizard answered. "But I do expect to get back pretty soon."
"Er – right," Grus said. "You were wondering how we would get the Scepter of Mercy out of Yozgat."
"Something like that had occurred to me, yes," Pterocles agreed. "You told me it was none of my business, though." Resentment stuck up all over him, like spines on a hedgehog.
"Well, it may be after all." Grus thrust Lanius' letter at him. "Here – read this and tell me what you think."
Pterocles obeyed. The more he read, the more astonished he looked. When he was finished, he blurted, "That's the craziest thing I ever heard of."
"Just what I said when King Lanius told me about it last winter," Grus replied. "Suppose we forget it's crazy, though. Suppose we look at what chance it has of working. More than a little, wouldn't you say? Here, look at this, too." He showed Pterocles Lanius' sketch of Yozgat.
"Olor's beard!" the wizard exclaimed, recognizing it at once. "That's – amazing, isn't it?"
"Pretty much so," Grus said. "He's never even gone as far as the Stura, let alone anywhere near here."
"He's got it down, though. Every place where it matters, he's got it down," Pterocles said, and Grus nodded. Pterocles asked, "Where do I come into all this?"
"I don't know for certain, but I'll tell you what I had in mind," Grus said, and he did.
Pterocles stared, then burst out laughing. "Yes, I can do that," he said, laughing still. "Come to think of it, you don't need me to do that. The clumsiest, most fumble-fingered drunken excuse for a wizard in the world could do that."
"Well, I don't know the clumsiest, most fumble-fingered drunken excuse for a wizard in the world, and I do know you," Grus said reasonably. "I still think you'd do a better job than he would, too."
"For this? You might be surprised," Pterocles told him.
"Maybe I might be, but I'd better not be, if you know what I mean." When Grus wanted to, he could sound every inch a king.
Pterocles bowed in acquiescence. "Yes, Your Majesty. Let me know when."
"I will. Obviously, not yet," Grus said.
"Yes. Obviously." Pterocles started a chuckle, but this time didn't quite finish it. His voice was altogether serious as he said, "You know, Your Majesty, I'm a little surprised – maybe more than a little surprised – that letter and that sketch made it down here safely. They had to cross an awful lot of ground the Menteshe can raid before they did."
"Funny you should say that." Grus told him the story of the courier's narrow escape from the nomads.
"That's.. interesting," Pterocles said thoughtfully. "And it's even more interesting that the two bands of Menteshe should have squabbled with each other, don't you think?"
"I did, as a matter of fact," Grus answered. "When I heard that, it made me wonder whether Sanjar's wizards really had worked out a spell to keep the Banished One from taking control of them. That envoy said they were going to try it, but I would be lying if I said I'd believed him."
"A possibility. Definitely a possibility."
By the way Pterocles said it, it wasn't a possibility he took seriously. "What were you thinking?" Grus asked him.
"Well, it did occur to me… If the gods in the heavens were going to meddle in the affairs of the material world, that's the way they might go about it. A little bit of confusion at just the right time would go a long way, and who could prove anything afterwards? Not even – him." The wizard looked south, toward the Argolid Mountains.
So did Grus. Was the Banished One gnashing his teeth down there because his henchmen hadn't caught that courier? It did seem possible. Did it seem likely? Grus pointed at Pterocles. "If – he – can't prove anything, you can't, either."
"Oh, I know that, Your Majesty," Pterocles said cheerfully. "But it does give us something to think about, doesn't it?"
Grus' wave encompassed the palisade surrounding Yozgat. "I've already got plenty to think about, thank you very much." He paused. "It would be nice, though, wouldn't it, to believe the gods in the heavens were paying a little bit of attention – just a little bit, mind you – to what's going on down here?"
"We'll see how things turn out," Pterocles said. "That may tell us something, one way or the other."
"Yes, it may," Grus said. "Question is, will it tell us anything we want to hear?"
"We'll find out," Pterocles said.
"Very good." Grus laughed and bowed. "As long as you stick to that, you can prophesy about anything."
"Being patient is a good start to the secret of all wisdom," Pterocles said.
"No doubt you're right. It's also one of the hardest things for most people to manage." Grus shook his head. "No – that's wrong. Most people can't manage it. Take me – I can hardly wait until I get to go on." He looked down at the sketch Lanius had sent. "I know what I can do in the meantime. I can go around Yozgat until I find the place where this matches up best with what I really see."