David Drake - The Fortress of Glass

Besides, Liane preferred to work behind the scenes. She sat quietly at Garric's elbow, ready to hand him necessary documents or whisper information; and she worked more quietly still in managing the kingdom's spies. When Liane spoke it was to the point- and occasionally very pointedly, as to Zettin just now-but that wasn't her usual style.

"I have the greatest respect for the princess," said Lord Waldron, making a half bow toward Sharina, "but Prince Garric's disappearance may mean there's a military threat looming. While the army will be loyal to whoever stands in the prince's place-"

"I'm sure Princess Sharina will be able to delegate military affairs," said Liane tartly, "as she and indeed her brother have done in the past. I consider it very unlikely that Prince Garric was snatched away by a hostile army, though, milord-if that was really what you were implying?"

"Well, I didn't mean that, of course…," Waldron muttered. He scowled, looking around the room angrily as if searching for a way out of his misstatement.

Lord Attaper opened his mouth, probably to gibe at his rival Waldron. Before he got a word out, Liane said, "I believe we're in agreement, then. Lord Attaper, are you ready to serve Princess Sharina loyally?"

Attaper stiffened as though slapped, then grinned at the way Liane had outmaneuvered him. "Yes," he said. "Princess Sharina is clearly the best choice to fill what we hope will be a short-term appointment. Ah, are we any closer to knowing just what did happen to the prince?"

Liane could've answered that, but it was properly a question for Sharina herself. She nodded to Attaper and said, "Tenoctris is searching the, ah, former king's library, which I gather is rather extensive."

She cleared her throat. She'd started to say, "the late king's library," and part of her still thought that might be the correct term.

"At any rate," Sharina continued, "Tenoctris will tell us if she learns anything useful. When she learns, as I hope and expect."

Cashel's presence had kept the previous discussions quiet but not calm. Much as Sharina appreciated having Cashel close to her, it was a good thing now that he'd left. The dynamic of the meeting had changed abruptly when Ilna spoke. Power had shifted from the males in the room to her, Ilna and Liane. If Cashel were still here, the tension between him and the three military men would've prevented that from happening.

"Ah, your highness?" said Zettin, glancing warily toward Liane. "The matter of the ships still remains. If we return to Valles in the next few-"

"We'll remain here until further notice," said Sharina with crisp certainty. "Garric, ah, departed from here. Unless Tenoctris says otherwise, I believe this is the place he's most likely to return to. I regret the risk to the ships, but Prince Garric is our first concern."

Lord Waldron glanced sidelong at Lord Attaper. He smiled slightly when their eyes met.

Lord Tadai touched together the tips of his well manicured fingers before him and coughed for attention. Tadai didn't have a formal title, but he carried out the duties of chancellor and chief of staff for Garric while the prince was travelling.

"Milords Waldron and Zettin?" he said in his butter-smooth voice. "I'd appreciate it if you'd direct your provisioning officers to meet with me as soon as we're done here. My staff has made preliminary contacts with local officials regarding our initial requirements, but I'll need more detailed information if we're going to remain on First Atara."

He bobbed his chin to Sharina.

"I believe we're done for now," Sharina said, glancing toward Liane and receiving a minuscule nod of agreement. "If each of you will leave a runner with me, I'll let you know as soon as I hear what Tenoctris has to say. I'm going up to see her now."

As the others present started to rise, a scream sounded outside. Heavy wood cracked, then masonry fell with a rumbling crash. A beam had broken-hadbeen broken-and the pediment it supported had come down with a roar.

Chalcus threw open the door and slipped into the courtyard, his sword and dagger in his hands. The council's military officials followed, drawing their weapons also. Lord Tadai and the other civilians got up and eased toward the back wall.

Sharina's eyes met Ilna's. Ilna patted Merota's head and said something; the girl ran to Liane and took her hand. Together Ilna and Sharina, friends from earliest childhood, stepped into the courtyard behind the armed men to see what was going on.

The palace was built around three sides of the courtyard. Besides the portico where the palace clerks and laundrymen worked in good weather, there was an herb garden for the kitchen and benches shaded by nut trees for nobles. The eight-foot-high back wall had double doors opening onto an alley leading to the nearby harbor. Sharina supposed furniture and bulk foodstuffs normally came in that way. An innkeeper's daughter noticed things like that.

The thing coming through the wall now, having torn out the transom and burst the gate leaves, was green, barrel-shaped, and taller than the wall. It held a soldier in one of its feathery tentacles and folded another over his face. A twist tore the man apart in a gush of blood.

There were troops in the alley and others pouring into the courtyard from the palace. Everyone was shouting.

The under-captain at the door to the council chamber turned and saw Sharina. "By the Lady!" he cried. "Princess, you've got to get out of here!"

Because this had been a working meeting of Garric's closest advisors, Sharina'd been able to change out of court robes into double tunics not terribly different from what she'd have worn on very formal occasions back in Barca's Hamlet. The fabric was bleached instead of being the natural cream color of 'white' wool, and the sleeves had black appliques of Ilna's weaving.

Ilna said the patterns were unconsciously soothing to anyone who looked at them. Sharina believed her friend, but given the rancor of some council meetings it was hard to imagine how they could've been much worse.

Between her outer and inner tunics Sharina wore a heavy Pewle knife, her legacy from the hermit Nonnus. He'd used it to save her life at the cost of his own. She didn't carry the knife as a weapon-though she'd used it for one-but rather because touching the hilt's black horn scales invoked the hermit's quiet faith, and that calmed her mind.

She reached through the slit disguised as a pleat in her outer tunic and brought out the knife. Right now it was both a weaponand a prayer.

Half a dozen spears sailed through the air and squelched into the monster, burying in every case the slim iron head and stopping only at the wooden shaft a forearm's length back of the point. The creature continued to advance. The spears wobbled like tubular wasp larvae clinging to the body of a squat green caterpillar.

A soldier just come from the servants' wing dropped his shield and charged with his javelin gripped in both hands. He twisted at the moment of impact to drive the point in, putting all his strength and weight behind the blow. Half the wrist-thick spear shaft penetrated; sludgy green fluid oozed out around the wood.

The soldier's wordless grunt of effort changed to a scream as tentacles wrapped him. The monster lifted him, pulling his limbs off with the same swift dispassion as a cook plucking a goose for dinner. The screams stopped an instant after the fourth bright flag of arterial blood spouted from the victim's joints.

"Use your swords!" an officer shouted. As he spoke, the monster gripped him. He slashed through one of the feathery tentacles, but another tentacle tossed him with seeming ease twenty feet in the air. He didn't scream until he started to fall back toward the alley. Three soldiers who'd started forward at his order backed instead and raised their shields.