David Drake - The Gods Return

"And state your opinion of Lord Waldron's proposal." He'd been sharper than he usually was, and sharper for sure than he usually was with Liane. Cashel felt sorry for his friend with so many different things to keep track of all at once, but it was sure a wonder how well he did. "Charax since the Change is a loose federation of cities, each with control of the region around it," Liane said. She held a gilt-edged scroll, but she didn't bother to open it. "They insist on their independence, and they won't allow foreign troops on their territories. That's particularly true of Dariada, because the Tree Oracle is located there." "They've been turning away the envoys I've sent regarding tax assessments," Chancellor Royhas said in a growl. "I suggest we use enough troops that at the same time we deal with these pirates, we can convince the Dariadans and their fellows that they're parts of the kingdom, now." Cashel could see Liane stiffen. A flash of anger touched her face-and vanished just as quickly. "No, milord, we will not do that," said Garric. He didn't seem to have glanced to the other side to see Liane's expression, so the edge in his voice must mean that he felt the same way anyhow. "Cashel-and Lord Waldron? Bands of pirates have very rarely been a danger to walled cities. This gang would be no exception were it not for the Worm, and troops wouldn't help with that problem. Take whatever escort you want for the journey, but we won't upset the folk of Charax by marching into what they consider their independent territory." "We will not be walking, Warrior Garric," Rasile said politely. "We will not need the escort you offer." Cashel didn't say anything. He was happier than not that they wouldn't have soldiers around, though, even if he didn't have to command them. It wasn't exactly that he didn't like soldiers, but he didn't have anything in common with them. "I don't know anything about a Tree Oracle," said Lord Tadai. "Though since the Charax Idid know of before the Change was an island of fishing villages and goat farmers, I shouldn't be surprised." Cashel liked Tadai because he didn't bluster even a little bit, though he was tough as they came in his own way. A lot of people with power liked to show off, including big fellows with a mug or two of ale in them. Cashel wasn't like that himself, and it was good to know other folk who were the same way as him. Liane cleared her throat; Garric nodded to her. "The whole island of Charax," she said, "appears to be as it was in the past millennium, before the Isles were unified under the Old Kingdom. The Tree Oracle is just that, a tree which responds to petitioners through human priests. A very old tree. The oracle is administered by a federation of the whole island, though the states fight one another regularly."

"The historians of the Old Kingdom treat the struggle against the Confederation of Charax as a major step in the predestined rise to greatness of the Kings of the Isles," Garric said with an odd smile "It didn't occur to me when I read the accounts that I'd some day be dealing with people who wouldn't view the sack and burning of Dariada as a splendid triumph." "I suppose the oracle's a fraud," Waldron said. He snorted. "A way to make priests rich and keep everybody else in line." "I wouldn't know, milord," Liane said, leaning forward to look past Garric at Waldron. "Idon't have enough information." Cashel couldn't help smiling. He knew Lord Waldron had been insulted, but he wasn't sure Waldron did. There were other smiles around the table, though. Waldron was curtly sure of himself, and it didn't help his popularity that he was generally right. "It would appear that the pirates do not consider the oracle a fraud, Warrior Waldron," Rasile said. "I would not usually hope to learn wisdom from folk who have been cast out of their bands, but these outcasts have bent a Worm to their will. I could not do that, and I think that even Tenoctris would find the task difficult." "I," said Tenoctris forcefully, "wouldn't dare to try. The Worm destroyed its own world. Should it get loose in ours, it would destroy a second." Garric looked around the room again.

Everybody kept their mouth shut. They'd learned not to waste Garric's time babbling when there was work to do, and there was plenty of work now. But instead of the dismissal Cashel expected, Garric said,

"Mistress Ilna? Do you have something to add before I close the meeting?" Ilna stood on the west side of the room, knotting one of her designs. Lord Zettin was standing beside her, which surprised Cashel more than most things would. The soldier-who'd been a sailor not long back-had a seat at the table, but he was leaving it vacant. Ilna caught Cashel's eye and smiled; not much but as much as she ever did.

Then she said, "I don't have anything to say, no. I'll be going off shortly to deal with a problem that Master Zettin showed me." *** Ilna heard what was going on in the council meeting, but her attention was on the pathways opening as her fingers knotted lengths of yarn. The design was like a track through a forest, forking again and again. She saw nothing beyond the path itself, but she had a sense of the direction. Aides jostled and whispered around her. Ilna knew she could've had a chair at the table. She didn't feel she had any business being at the council meeting in the first place, so she hadn't asked for that, today or ever in the past. She wasn't sure why she'd even bothered to come. Common courtesy, she supposed: her friend Garric had asked her to attend, so here she was. She'd been surprised that Lord Zettin, whodid belong and had a chair placed for him, had chosen to stand beside her. She hadn't asked him what he thought he was doing because that was none of her business. She'd certainly wondered, though. Garric's direct question had taken Ilna by surprise, but she'd given the same answer as she'd have done with a week to prepare. That was one advantage to always telling the flat truth. Not that she did it because it was advantageous. "Say!" piped the young courtier standing behind Lord Waldron. His tunics were of the best quality and he wore them well. "What does she mean saying Master? He's a peer!" Ilna dropped the pattern into her sleeve and reached for more yarn. The action was reflex: there wasn't a real threat, and hostility toward her was no new thing. "Lord Halle!" Zettin said. "If you persist in discussing matters which touch my honor, I'll send you home to your father with your ears cropped!" "Quite right, Halle!" Lord Waldron said. "Gentlemen don't need a pup like you to tell them their business." Waldron turned. "I wonder, though, your highness," he continued with his eyes on Lord Zettin rather than Garric. "If Mistress Ilna should be bothering about private matters while the kingdom's got the enemies it does?" Ilna wondered if the army commander really had any notion of what she'd done or could do.

Perhaps he did, since she knew Waldron wasn't a stupid man. She was quite sure that his comment had nothing to do with her and little at best with the kingdom, however. Zettin was Attaper's disciple and Attaper was Waldron's rival, so Waldron jabbed at Zettin. Children did the same thing-but animals didn't, not any animals that Ilna had seen during life in a peasant hamlet. She'd done worse things herself, of course. That didn't make her like human beings better. Aloud she said,

"I've never met a kingdom, Master Waldron, but I've got a good notion of what I myself ought to be doing. If you don't agree, you're welcome to your opinion." Waldron glared fiercely, but not so much at her as in her direction. Until Ilna'd spoken, he hadn't really been thinking about her as a person; she'd been a stick to beat Zettin with. Ilna smiled as broadly as she ever did. Sometimes what you thought was a stick turned out to be a snake. "All right, I take your point,"

Waldron said. "I shouldn't have said anything. No offense meant."