Peter Dickinson - Angel Isle

She blurred, of course, as she approached, and Maja raised her spectacles to her eyes.

“Syndic Blrundahlrgh,” she said.

“Lady Kzhuvargh,” answered the Syndic, and they both smiled, sharing their pleasure in the other’s having made the attempt to pronouce each other’s name and their consciousness of their own failure. The Syndic, still smiling, spoke briefly.

“The Syndic says that we are all children at heart,” said the translator.

Maja blinked inwardly. Did she know? Surely not. She rescued herself with one of her rehearsed remarks.

“Forgive me,” she said, gesturing with her spectacles. “I do not see very well close to.”

The Syndic waited for the translation, nodded, and stood calmly while Maja looked her over. The impression she gave of being something of a dough-faced nonentity turned out to be entirely superficial, worn almost like a mask. The pale gray-blue eyes were bright with intelligence. The jowled chin merely distracted from the firm set of the mouth. The skin was smooth and clear, its pallor natural to it. She could once have been a plumply pretty young woman, Maja decided. The Syndic studied Maja in return and nodded again.

“Shall we sit,” she said, drawing out the chair beside Maja’s, at the same time making a brief remark to the translator, who almost scurried to help Maja into her chair and then took up a post behind and between the two of them.

“I am sorry you are not well,” said the Syndic, as if deliberately giving Maja the cue for another rehearsed remark.

“Indeed I am not myself today,” she said. “I am not precisely ill, but it is many years since I needed to exert my powers to the extent that I did yesterday, and today I am paying the penalty. I shall be better as soon as I am free to return to my own place.”

“I’m hoping that one result of our work today is that one day I’ll get the chance to visit the Empire in a spirit of friendship.”

(Not one of Maja’s cues, but she mustn’t hesitate. What would Lady Kzuva have said?)

“It is not all wonders and marvels, you know.”

(That was a start, but…oh, of course! She readied the phrases while the Syndic was speaking and waited for the translation.)

“I’m glad to hear it,” said the Syndic. “Yesterday was enough to last me a lifetime. But even without that the Empire is so different from my own country. I would very much like to return in more peaceful times. I am sure our best hope for a lasting peace is to know each other better.”

“Indeed, yes. I live a long way north. But should your journeyings carry you that far, I should be glad to welcome you under my roof.”

A safe offer, surely. There was precious little chance of the Empire letting her in, even if she wanted to come. Anyway, she wouldn’t take it up, surely. She must be a busy woman. But no.

“I shall make a point of seeing that they do. Tell me, my lady, how much do you know of the politics of my country? Our translator, incidentally, is my cousin’s daughter-in-law and can be trusted.”

“I know a certain amount about your country,” Maja said, taking the chance to answer slowly, thoughtfully, as she tried to remember and repeat all the stuff that Striclan had told them.

“But the invasion has turned out much more difficult than your pro-war party expected,” she concluded, “and so opinion is swinging against them. We saw something of this aboard the All-Conqueror yesterday. I believe you yourself had a hand in suppressing an armed group of soldiers who wanted to reject our terms.”

The Syndic didn’t actually blink, but paused and stared at her before she answered.

“You are very well informed, my lady,” she said.

“This is the Empire, Syndic. It is very hard to keep a secret without some form of magical protection.”

“Of course,” said the Syndic. “Bluntly, I am asking for your help. General Pashgahr is a sensible man….”

Maja, tiring rapidly now, forced herself to listen as the Syndic explained how important it was to give General Pashgahr something worthwhile to take home, instead of an outright defeat of the invasion. Otherwise General Olbog, who still had plenty of allies there, would be able to present himself as the hero who had been betrayed by weak-kneed underlings. Maja decided what to say as she waited for her to finish.

“I don’t think we can alter the document at this stage, Syndic,” she said.

“No, of course not. I think the most I can ask for is this. At present the Empire’s borders are closed to all outsiders. If you were now to invite a delegation of politicians and businesspeople, completely unmilitary in nature, to visit the country and explore the possibilities for mutually beneficial trade, this would be attractive to the business community, and help to get them on our side. I would hope to be one of the delegates, and that we would then be able to renew our acquaintance.”

“For myself I should welcome that, but I shall need to talk to my colleagues.”

“Of course. And there is a similar matter I’d like you to put to them. The Ice-dragon, or dragons—I understand there are two.”

“I know little more than you do about them. You will have to talk—”

“To Mr. Ortahlson. Eventually. But this is urgent, and I have you alone, so I’m asking you to talk to him. This may surprise you, but I want you to persuade him not to insist too strongly on the physical reality of the creatures.”

Maja’s turn not to blink. She tried to gather her wits, but the Syndic raised a hand to stop her before she could speak.

“I know my countrymen. I know the military mind, as perhaps you do not. Confronted with an overwhelming physical threat such as a real Ice-dragon would present—a threat that is not confined, as your magical powers are, within the borders of the Empire, but is potentially global in its effect—they will be determined either to take possession of it and control it, or to destroy it. They would be able to carry many of my countrymen with them in this.”

“That…That would be very foolish. An absolute disaster.”

“Exactly. But the Ice-dragon is not needed to justify our withdrawal. The stranding of the whole fleet on an island of ice magically appearing in a warm sea is more than enough, and that was manifestly not a hallucination. Put simply, my argument against the war party will be that we cannot attack the Empire because of its magical defenses. Therefore we must make peace with it.

“I must repeat that the matter is urgent. Mr. Ortahlson may already be responding to questions about the Ice-dragon. I’m not asking him suddenly to deny the creature’s existence. Only to leave room for doubt.”

“Very well. Perhaps your translator will be kind enough to lend me an arm.”

She found Ribek, Saranja and Striclan at a table in the refreshment pavilion. The men rose smiling as she approached. Ribek offered her a chair and they all sat.

“We weren’t talking about anything serious,” he said. “Just chitchat. Staving off the inquisitors.”

He nodded toward a group of the Pirate delegates hovering nearby, translator at the ready, waiting to pounce. How much could they hear?

“This is serious,” Maja said clearly. “I have word from Talagh….”

She lowered her voice.

“I’ve been talking to Syndic Blrundahlrgh,” she said, and told them about it.

“Well, Striclan?” said Ribek, when she’d finished.

“They’re both very good points. In fact I’d been thinking about them myself.”

“We haven’t got the authority to commit the Empire to anything.”

“We’ll have to talk to Chanad,” said Saranja.

“At least I can go and start doing something about the Ice-dragon,” said Ribek. “Odd that that’s the only thing about yesterday’s performance that wasn’t hocus-pocus, and now you’re asking me to say that it was.”