Dan Parkinson - The Swordsheath Scroll

There was a rap at the closed door of the chamber, and Lord Kane turned as the portal opened and a liveried messenger stepped inside. "If this interruption is less than an emergency, I'll have you gutted on the spot!" the prince roared at the newcomer, who was hardly more than a boy.

The messenger's eyes went wide with fear, and his knees began to shake. "I …" he gulped and tried again. "I… ah…"

"Out with it!" Kane ordered.

"Y-Your Highness, there is a-an emissary at the gate, demanding immediate audience. He is f-from…"

The door opened wider and a burly, dark-cloaked figure strode in, pushing past the boy. "I'll deliver my own demand," he announced, throwing back his riding cowl.

Lord Kane stared at the man. "Dreyus!" he whispered.

"Aye, Your Highness." The big man's curt bow was arrogant and ironic, almost a challenge. His presence seemed to fill the room, as though the air within suddenly held an aura of power and cruelty. "I have ridden twelve days to reach this place, and have killed four horses. I do not care to wait on an audience."

Lord Kane stared at the emperor's emissary for a moment, then sighed. Like almost everyone else in Ergoth, Sakar Kane was a bit afraid of the man who stood before him now. Even the emperor, it was whispered, might well be careful not to offend the man called Dreyus — although it was rumored that no one in Daltigoth had ever actually seen the two together. Though not proclaimed as a wizard, Dreyus had certain strange powers. He was seldom present in the imperial halls in Daltigoth, but seemed always to know of each intrigue and whisper there. And though he had no official title or discernible status in Ergoth, he often represented the emperor in matters of import.

No one seemed to know where he had come from. Neither the clerical orders nor even the Orders of High Sorcery seemed to have any control over him, any more than did the marshals of the empire's armies, or even-it seemed-the emperor himself.

With a nod that became a slight bow, the Prince of Klanath waved Dreyus toward a secluded niche at one side of the Great Hall, where stood an amber-topped table and chairs of carved ivory. "Of course the eminent Dreyus is welcome here," Kane said. "You surprise me, though. I had heard that you were with General Giarna, in his elven campaign in the east." Dreyus shook his head. "The general's elven campaign is failed, and Giarna is…" He paused, glancing aside at Tulien Gart, who still stood nearby at rigid attention. "Who is this?"

"No one, Eminence," Lord Kane said, as though he had completely forgotten the commander's presence. "One of my officers." To Gart he said, "You are dismissed for now, Commander. You are to confine yourself to quarters and await my pleasure."

"Yes, Sire." Gart saluted smartly, turning away. As he approached the door, it opened for him. There were palace guards there, and he knew without seeing Lord Kane's signal that the guards were for him. Lord Kane had not finished with him, and until he did, Gart was a prisoner. Undoubtedly his entire battalion had already been isolated and put under guard. Looking straight ahead, the commander stepped through, and the guards pulled the portal closed behind him. But just as it closed, he heard the voice of the man called Dreyus, saying, "Giarna has lost his campaign. Our legions were routed at Sithelbec, and I am…" The door closed, and he heard no more.

Was the war over? The words he had overheard amazed Gart. If the "boy general" was, indeed, defeated, and his campaign routed, did it mean an end to the emperor's dream of expansion into the eastern plains and Silvanesti?

For a moment, the commander felt a sense of relief. But only for a moment. No, his intuition said, Quivalin Soth V would not abandon his ambitions because one effort had failed. Things would change, but they would remain the same. In some form or other, the war of expansion would continue.

Outside the palace, Gart looked upward in surprise. When he had entered, the day had been clear and sunny. Now, though, the skies were dark with heavy, sullen clouds.

"Giarna waged a fierce campaign," Dreyus told Lord Kane. "But in the end he was stupid. He failed to reckon on the tenacity of the elves, or to realize that not all of the elves are forest recluses. The western elves-the Wild-runners-fight as plainsmen when they must. They can be full of surprises. They even control griffons, it seems. And the general allowed himself to be betrayed by a woman. His own doxy, Suzine."

"Suzine des Quivalin?" Lord Kane's eyes widened. "A relative of His Majesty…?"

"Enough!" Dreyus's voice went low and cold. "The woman is never to be referred to by family name, or by lineage. She is not related to anyone in Ergoth, not even the lowest tradesman or serf. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly." Kane nodded. "But the campaign in the east, is it…?"

"It continues," Dreyus said. "Giarna failed, but the empire has not. The war will continue. Even now, the scattered forces of Giarna's army are being gathered on the plains to await my return from Daltigoth. And that brings me to my reason for stopping here in Klanath on my way to Ullves's palace. We shall require certain, ah, augmented services from you, Prince Kane. Klanath was important to the previous campaign, as you know. It will be far more important to the coming campaign."

"I shall do my best to serve," Kane said smoothly. "As you doubtless know, I have managed to keep the road open and the mines in full production, despite some small problems."

"Some small problems," Dreyus drawled with heavy irony. "Yes, I know about those. First you lost several thousand slaves, then for two years or more you allowed empire caravans to be plagued by raiders and thieves."

"I have accounted for all of that," Kane snapped. "The empire's coffers suffered no loss from the slave revolt. And as to those isolated raids…"

Dreyus raised a hand. "Enough," he said. "I know all about it, and am not here to take you to task. You have proven to be a capable subject of the empire, Lord Kane. Or perhaps only an incredibly lucky one, but that doesn't matter. What matters now is how well you serve my conquest of the eastern territories."

"Your conquest?"

"When I return from Daltigoth, I shall lead the forces that will finally put an end to the resistance of barbarian tribes and frontier elves," Dreyus said bluntly. "I… we shall no longer entrust such matters to mere generals."

"I see." Kane clapped his hands, and a servant slipped through a sliding wall panel to fill two goblets, then hastened away. "And my duties, Eminence?"

"Klanath will be my base for the duration of the campaign," Dreyus said. "You shall be privileged to serve as host to my headquarters, my supply stores, and certain of my troops. Another of Giarna's several mistakes, you see, was to use Klanath only as a depot and rest stop for reinforcements. He should have realized from the outset that the sheer distance between Daltigoth-or even Caer-goth-and the barbarian plains gave an undue advantage to his enemies. I shall give them no such advantage."

Dreyus picked up his goblet and downed its contents. Although the vessel held the most precious of spiced wines, cooled by chips of clear ice from the lofty peaks above Klanath, the big man drank it as though it were no more than vulgar ale. Then he tossed the goblet aside and continued, "Starting shortly after my arrival in Daltigoth, my lord, you may expect caravans carrying all the things that I shall need for my campaign. These goods will be delivered into your care, to hold for me until I return here. I will expect to find them intact and undamaged when I arrive."

Lord Kane simply nodded, saying nothing.

"Also," Dreyus said imperiously, "you will close your mines for the present."