Lawrence Watt-Evans: Relics of War

The threesome waited silently as the shatra approached.

Tesk stopped a few feet away and said, “I have come, as I agreed I would.” Then he looked directly at Garander and asked, “Why are you here, instead of safe with your family?”

Startled, Garander realized he did not have a good answer ready; the truth was that it had never occurred to him not to be there. He had simply taken it for granted that he should be present for any negotiations.

Tesk was waiting for an answer, and at last Garander said, “I’m here to represent my family. After all, this is our land. And I thought you might want a friend present.”

“I certainly have no objection to his presence,” Lady Shasha said. “While I hope that someday you might call me your friend, I know that as yet the term does not apply, and I welcome the young man in that capacity.”

“I don’t care whether he’s here or not,” Velnira said. “Let’s get on with it.”

That did not sound good, Garander thought. Such gracelessness was worrisome.

“Shall I begin, then?” Lady Shasha asked.

“Go ahead,” Velnira said, with a wave of her hand.

“Excellent!” The Ethsharite smiled. “Tesk, Lord Edaran regrets that you cannot enjoy the comforts of his city, and apologizes for any discomfort his ignorance of your limitations may have caused. He would still very much appreciate your services as an advisor in matters magical and military, and access to your devices and your own body, so that his own magicians might study and learn from them. In exchange, he offers to provide you with transportation anywhere you might wish to go, by any means within his power-the flying carpet that brought me, for example, can be placed at your disposal. Perhaps you would like to visit the ruins of your homeland, to see if there is anything to be salvaged there, or if there are any rites or ceremonies for the dead to be performed. Furthermore, given that you have said you seek companionship, he would be happy to send visitors to see you, at whatever intervals and for whatever duration might best suit you, and these visitors shall be of your choosing. If you would like the company of singers, perhaps, or dancers, or storytellers, that can be arranged. Should you be interested in educating yourself in the ways of our people, he would be happy to send teachers-historians, perhaps, or scholars of one sort or another. If there is something you would like to teach us , in addition to your magic, that would be appreciated-your native tongue, perhaps, or the history and culture of the Northern Empire as seen from within. We know so little of your people! If you do not wish to see your own language lost to the world, we have students eager to learn it.”

As she paused for breath, Garander marveled at the cleverness of this offer. Helping the memory of his people survive might indeed appeal to Tesk, but Garander was sure that the Ethsharites were more interested in knowing Shaslan so they could read surviving Northern documents-especially magicians’ records of their magic.

“That is everything we have thought to offer,” Lady Shasha continued, “but if there is anything else you desire, we will consider whether we can reasonably provide it. Exotic foodstuffs, perhaps-Lord Azrad’s Ethshar is becoming famous for its spice trade, and the small kingdoms that now rule Old Ethshar have developed some interesting cuisine. Fine clothing, if your nature allows it and you take any interest in your appearance. Whatever the wealth of Ethshar of the Sands can comfortably provide can be yours. There must be limitations, of course; you cannot ask us to put any innocents to death, or to perform any extravagant acts of destruction, but Lord Edaran is ready to be extremely generous, and to accommodate your nature as best he can. I await your decision.”

Having concluded her speech, she curtsied again, and took a single step back.

Tesk regarded her for a moment, then said, “That is a better offer than I expected.” He turned to Velnira.

She threw an angry glance at Lady Shasha, then cleared her throat.

“Lord Dakkar, Baron of Varag, has given due consideration to your earlier statements of why you are not interested in the offer he made earlier, and has concluded that there is no rational way to pay you for your services with anything but your life. Furthermore, since you are a Northern abomination trespassing on the baron’s lands, and since no formal peace was ever made with the Northern Empire, the proper thing to do would be to kill you. However, Lord Dakkar is a merciful man, and a practical one. If you agree to assist his magicians in studying your magic, and his soldiers in learning the arts of combat, he will allow you to live. If you do not agree, he will have you hunted down and slain, whether here in these woods, or in the wastelands where the Empire once ruled, or in the streets of Ethshar.”

Garander stood silently listening to this, at first in disbelief, and then in anger. No wonder the baron had not wanted to deliver his ultimatum in person! Tesk might have killed him on the spot. In fact, in Tesk’s position Garander thought he might go ahead and kill Lord Dakkar anyway, even if it meant fighting his way through a few guards, in hopes his successor would be more reasonable.

“Not a very generous offer,” Lady Shasha said quietly.

“It is not an offer at all,” Tesk said. “It is a threat. But I do not know whether he can carry out his threat.”

“Maybe you can accept both offers,” Garander suggested.

Both women started to speak at once; then they stopped, looking at one another. Lady Shasha made a gesture indicating Velnira should go ahead.

“Lord Dakkar won’t allow that,” the chamberlain said.

“Regrettably, neither will Lord Edaran,” Lady Shasha said. “His agreement with you must be exclusive.”

“I see,” Tesk said. He thought for a moment, then said, “Perhaps you will each ask your master to reconsider. If I could accept both offers it might make this easier.” He looked up at the darkening sky. “I will think about this. You will know my decision in the morning.”

Lady Shasha curtsied again, but Velnira demanded, “What is there to decide?”

Tesk looked at her and said, “Whether I live or die.” He turned away. “Garander, walk with me. I wish to say goodbye to your family.”

“Of course,” Garander said. The shatra had not waited for his answer, but was already walking swiftly toward the house; Garander hurried to catch up.

“You have a plan,” Tesk said as they walked. “What is it?”

“I was originally going to say we wanted both sides to think you were dead,” Garander replied, “but now I wonder whether you should maybe accept Lord Edaran’s offer, and we would only need to convince Lord Dakkar you’re dead.”

Tesk shook his head. “Lord Dakkar would find out. Lord Edaran’s people could not keep their visits to me secret.”

“Probably not,” Garander admitted. “All right, both sides. Separately, so they won’t fight over the body. I’ll go to each of them and say I found you dead in the woods. I’ll tell the baron’s people that you killed yourself rather than give in to his threats, and I’ll tell the Ethsharites that the baron decided not to wait and went ahead and killed you. Then I’ll bring them into the forest and show them your body-there’s a magic spell called the Sanguinary Deception that will make it look like you’re very definitely dead, so obviously dead that they won’t bother to make sure. And with each of them, you’ll have a bunch of weapons and talismans and equipment that they can steal to study, so they won’t think they’re leaving anything for the other side.”