John Dalmas - The Lion Returns

Again she turned her head to look at Omara. The healer's aura told her nothing of consequence. "I'm tired now," Sarkia muttered, "dry husk that I am. And I must preserve my strength, my life, until they get here. Then I'll be free to die."

Idri's office door opened, and she looked up from her Tiger breeding schedule for the summer. "What is it, Jaloon?"

"Omara arrived last evening from Teklapori. She is with Sarkia."

Idri scowled. Without Omara, the old witch would be dead, and the waiting over. "So?" she said.

"Someone else arrived from Teklapori, early this morning: a courier from the embassy." Jaloon paused. "Macurdy was there, to see the king and queen. And Omara." She paused again. "A spy in the palace reports that Macurdy then left for Duinarog, to see Varia."

Idri's eyebrows raised sharply. She had long known, through an informer, that Sarkia favored Varia as the new dynast, had since early in her decline. To entice Varia, she'd planned to dangle Macurdy in front of her, as her consort and military commander, and probably her deputy. But Macurdy had returned to Farside instead. And when he didn't come back, it had seemed to Idri the danger was past. Now it was not only renewed, it was imminent.

She dismissed Jaloon and left her office. She routinely skipped breakfast, preferring to work for two or three hours, then go early to the executive dining room for brunch. As she reached the central gallery of the administration building, she saw two youths in Guards uniforms crossing it. The sight stopped her. She knew them at once-Varia's twin sons by Macurdy. What were they doing in this building? She watched as they entered the corridor which led to Sarkia's office and apartment, her nurses' quarters, and Omara's executive suite. And nowhere else.

Idri knew then, knew as if she'd been told: they'd be sent to Duinarog, to influence Varia and Macurdy. They'd be rushed there, because Macurdy had a head start.

Idri, being Idri, found power and prestige a massive attraction, and assumed that everyone did. But she also knew that Macurdy had resisted it. And that Varia had prestige, if questionable power, as the wife of the Cyncaidh.

It seemed to Idri that Varia's response was the crux now, and Varia had learned peculiar ways and values on Farside. Would she prefer real power as Dynast, with her Farside husband and their two brats beside her? Or choose her ylvin husband and their children? And there was the matter of the ylf of course. Would he let her go if she wanted to? Offhand it seemed unlikely, but Idri had heard that though he was strong in some ways, in others he was afraid to impose his will.

At any rate, Varia was the problem and the solution. The rest were incidental.

Abruptly Idri turned and strode back to her office. Brunch could wait. She had things to arrange.

Omara's office door opened. "Varia's sons are here," her aide said quietly.

"Send them in, Posi."

Omara was on her feet when they entered. Entered respectfully, for she was the Dynast's deputy, and despite her youthful appearance, probably fifty years old or more. While they were nineteen, second-year ranks in the Guards.

Omara looked them over thoroughly. They were as tall as their father, and athletic looking. Within a few years they might approach him in muscle. Their hair was as red as their mother's, and their skin, from the drill field, the same unlikely tan. Their eyes were hazel green. "Sit," she said, indicating two chairs. They sat.

"You know your lineage," she told them. "Strong lineage, very strong. Able. The Dynast hopes for comparable qualities in you, and has decided you should have Outland experience. You are to leave at dawn tomorrow, and travel to Miskmehr for assignments in the embassy there."

The youths watched, their features controlled but their heart rates speeded. Omara took two sheets of paper from her desk, two lists, and gave them to the youths. "Here is the clothing and gear to take with you. Someday, not too distant, you may be carrying out missions for the Dynast herself. Some will be secret. Some will be urgent. So I am treating this trip as a trial and a drill, to see how you do. Do not disgrace yourselves.

"I want you there as quickly as possible without killing your horses. You will have remounts, and travel with an experienced sergeant who knows the route. He will meet you in the vestibule of your barracks no later than first dawn. First dawn. Be there, ready. Do not keep him waiting.

"On your way to your barracks, you will stop at supply and pick up two bundles containing clothing suitable to Rude Lands travelers.

"Say nothing of this to anyone. Not your platoon leader, not your sergeant, not anyone. I will be checking. If I discover you have broken secrecy, it will earn you a reprimand, and go into your records."

She paused, looking them up and down again. "If you have any questions or uncertainties, say so now… No? Good. You are dismissed."

When they had gone, Omara called in her page. "Lolana," she said, "go to the Guards duty office and tell them- quietly! -that I want to see Sergeant Veskabren Arva in the Rose Garden, at once. At once! But do not run. Do not draw attention to yourself. Do you understand?"

The girl nodded. "Yes ma'am," she said, then saluted and left.

In her office, Idri did not sit down. She paced. She needed to make decisions and necessary arrangements, and that required a plan. Think! she told herself. How will Omara handle her part in this? In the Sisterhood, males were little educated. And the twins would be-how old? Surely less than twenty years, and untraveled. Little traveled at best. Omara wouldn't send them galloping off by themselves. Who would she send with them? A Guardsman, of course, who'd been attached to the embassy in Duinarog, and was familiar with the route.

Her basic plan sprang full grown into her mind. A Guardsman attached to the embassy in Duinarog! I have, Idri told herself, the perfect substitute. It seemed a marvelous omen, and with Rillor she could terminate the risk irrevocably.

Abruptly she stepped to her door. "Jaloon," she said to her aide, "come in here. I want you to arrange something for me. Unobtrusively."

Idri looked over the information Jaloon had gotten for her. Omara had listed the twins in the travel book as going to the embassy in Miskmehr. So. They were indeed scheduled Outland. Miskmehr had to be a false destination, the cover story. A Guards senior sergeant named Veskabren Arva was also listed as going to Miskmehr; hardly a coincidence.

They would probably leave at dawn. That was customary for long trips. Now she had arrangements to make with Rillor and Skalvok.

Idri didn't have Koslovi Rillor come to her office. A Guards officer coming into this corridor might well be noticed. And would look odd, for she rarely had official business with the Guards. Instead she met him at the stable, where she was having her mare saddled. She rode at least twice a week, to stay in shape for travel, and because she liked to ride.

They did not speak, but rode separately out the Cloister's open south gate, about a hundred yards apart. The well-beaten bridle trail skirted the mountain stream above the Cloister. Soon the trail entered the forest. When she reached the junction with a side trail, she stopped her mare, and waited till she saw Rillor again. Then she rode out of sight up the side trail, and stopping, dismounted.

A minute later he stood in front of her. He did not reach, however. They were lovers, but on her terms, not his.

Captain Koslovi Rillor was burly, hard-bodied, and well endowed-the physical type that most stimulated her.

"I have a vitally important mission for you," she said. "If done properly, it will remove my single major rival for the Dynast's throne. Our single major rival." She didn't see auras, but she read faces. It was clear he understood. "Do you know a Guards senior sergeant named Arva?" she asked. "Veskabren Arva?"