‘And when he ran away, he missed seeing Sparhawk throw Bhelliom into the sea,’ the boy added. ‘So far as he knew, Sparhawk still had it in his pocket.’

She nodded. ‘Returned he to Verel to consult with Ogerajin and diverse other renegades concerning this disastrous turn of events.’

‘How many of them are there, Lady?’ Kalten asked. ‘And what are they like? It’s always good to know your enemies.’

‘They are many, Sir Kalten, but four – in addition to Zalasta and Ogerajin – are most significant. They are the most powerful and corrupt in all of Styricum. Ogerajin is by far the foulest, but his powers are waning by reason of a loathsome disease which doth eat away at his mind.’ Xanetia suddenly looked uncomfortable, and she even blushed. ‘It is one of those ailments which do infect they who engage overmuch in bawdry.’

‘Ah…’ Sarabian came to her aid. ‘I don’t know that we need to get too specific about Ogerajin’s disease. Why don’t we just say that he’s incapacitated and let it go at that? Who are the others, Anarae?’

She gave him a grateful look. ‘Cyzada of Esos is the most versed in the darker aspects of Styric magic, Emperor Sarabian,’ she replied. ‘Residing close by the eastern frontier of Zemoch, had he frequent contacts with the half-Styric, half-Elene wizards of that accursed land, and did he learn much from them. Reaches he with some facility into the darkness which did surround the mind of Azash, and can he summon certain of the creatures which served the Elder God.’

‘Damorks?’ Berit asked. ‘Seekers?’

‘The Damorkim perished with their master, Sir Knight. The fate of the Seekers is uncertain. Cyzada fears to summon such as they, for only Otha could surely control them.’

‘That’s something, anyway,’ Khalad said. ‘I’ve heard some stories that I’d rather not have to confirm in person.’

‘In addition to Cyzada, Zalasta and Ogerajin have allied themselves with Ptaga of Jura, Ynak of Lydros, and Djarian of Samar,’ Xanetia continued.

‘I’ve heard of them,’ Sephrenia said darkly. ‘I wouldn’t have believed Zalasta could sink so low.’

‘Bad?’ Kalten asked her.

‘Worse than that. Ptaga’s a master of illusion who can blur the line between reality and imagining. It’s said that he conjures up the images of various women for the pleasure of the degenerates who pay him, and that the images are even better than reality could be.’

‘Evidently he’s branching out,’ Oscagne noted. ‘It would appear that he’s creating the illusions of the monsters now instead of pretty ladies. That would explain all the vampires and the like.’

‘Ynak’s reputed to be the most contentious man alive,’ Sephrenia went on. ‘He can start centuries-long feuds between families just by walking past their houses. He’s probably behind the upsurge of racial hatred that’s contaminating the Elene kingdoms to the west. Djarian is probably the pre-eminent necromancer in the world. It’s said that he can raise people who never even really existed.’

‘Whole armies?’ Ulath asked her. ‘Like those antique Lamorks or the Cyrgai?’

‘I doubt it,’ she replied, ‘although I can’t be sure. It was Zalasta who told us it was impossible, and he may have been lying.’

‘I’ve got a question, Anarae,’ Talen said. ‘Can you see what Zalasta’s thinking as well as hear it?’

‘To some degree, young master.’

‘What are you getting at, Talen?’ Sparhawk asked him.

‘You remember that spell you used to put Krager’s face in that basin of water back in Platime’s cellar in Cimmura?’

Sparhawk nodded.

‘A name’s just a name,’ Talen noted, ‘and these particular Styrics probably aren’t running around announcing themselves. Stragen suggested getting rid of them earlier. Wouldn’t pictures make that a lot easier? If Xanetia can see Zalasta’s memories of what those people look like and let me see them too, I could draw pictures of them. Then Stragen could send the pictures to Verel – or wherever those Styrics are – and Zalasta would suddenly lose some people he’s been counting on rather heavily. I think we owe him that much, anyway.’

‘I like the way this boy thinks, Sparhawk,’ Ulath grinned.

‘Thy plan is flawed, young master,’ Xanetia said to Talen. ‘The spell of which thou didst speak is a Styric spell, and I have no familiarity with it.’

‘Sephrenia could teach it to you.’ He shrugged.

‘You’re asking the impossible, Talen,’ Bevier told him. ‘Sephrenia and Xanetia have only recently reached the point where they can be in the same room without wanting to kill each other. There’s a lot of trust involved in teaching – and learning – spells.’

Xanetia and Sephrenia, however, had been exchanging a long, troubled look. ‘Don’t be too quick to throw away a good idea, Bevier,’ Sephrenia murmured. ‘It has got some possibilities, Anarae,’ she suggested tentatively. ‘The notion probably makes your skin crawl as much as it does mine, but if we could ever learn to trust each other, there could be all manner of things we might be able to accomplish. If we could combine your magic with mine…’ She left it hanging.

Xanetia pursed her lips, and her expression oddly mirrored Sephrenia’s. So intense was her consideration of the notion that her control slipped a bit, and her face began to glow. ‘The alliance between our two races did almost bring the Cyrgai to their knees,’ she noted, also rather tentatively.

‘In diplomatic circles this is the point at which the negotiators usually adjourn so that they can consult with their governments,’ Oscagne suggested.

‘The Anarae and I aren’t obliged to get instructions from either Sarsos or Delphaeus, your Excellency,’ Sephrenia told him.

‘Most diplomats aren’t either.’ He shrugged. ‘The announcement “I must consult with my government” is merely a polite way of saying “Your suggestion is interesting. Give me some time to think it over and get used to the idea.” You ladies are breaking new ground. I’d advise you not to rush things.’

‘What say you, Sephrenia of Ylara?’ Xanetia said, smiling shyly. ‘Shall we pause for a fictional consultation with Sarsos and Delphaeus?’

‘That might not be such a bad idea, Xanetia of Delphaeus,’ Sephrenia agreed. ‘And as long as we both know that it’s fiction, we won’t have to waste time waiting for non-existent messengers to make imaginary journeys before we speak of it again.’

‘After the destruction of the city of Zemoch and all who dwelt there, did Zalasta and his cohorts meet in Verel to consider their course,’ Xanetia picked up the story. ‘Concluded they at once that they were no match for Anakha and Bhelliom. It was Ogerajin who did point out that Zalasta’s tentative alliance had been with Otha, and that there had been no direct contact with Azash. He did speak slightingly to Zalasta concerning this and Zalasta’s rancor regarding those words doth linger still.’

‘That’s always useful,’ Vanion observed. ‘Dissension among your enemies can usually be exploited.’

‘The presence of the contentious Ynak doth heighten their discord, Lord Vanion. Ogerajin did berate Zalasta, demanding to know if he were so puffed-up as to think himself the equal of a God, for Ogerajin doth consider Anakha to be such – or very nearly – because of his access to Bhelliom.’

‘How does it feel to be married to a God, Ehlana?’ Sarabian teased.

‘It has its moments,’ she smiled.

‘Cyzada of Esos then joined their discussion,’ Xanetia continued. ‘He did rather slyly suggest alliance with one or more of the myriad demi-gods of the nether world, but his companions trusted him not, for he alone is conversant with the Zemoch spells which do raise and control such creatures of darkness. Indeed, trust is slight in that unwholesome company. Zalasta hath placed the ultimate prize before them, and well doth he know that each of them doth secretly covet sole possession of the jewel. Theirs is an uneasy alliance at best.’

‘What did they finally decide to do, Anarae?’ Kring asked. Sparhawk had noticed that the Domi seldom spoke at these meetings. Kring was not really comfortable indoors, and the subtleties of politics which so delighted Ehlana and Sarabian quite obviously bored him. Peloi politics were straightforward and simple – and usually involved bloodshed.

‘It was the consensus of their deliberations that they might find – for a price – willing helpers in the imperial government itself,’ Xanetia replied.

‘They were right about that,’ Sarabian said sourly. ‘If what we saw yesterday is any indication, my ministers were standing in line to betray me.’

‘It wasn’t really personal, my Emperor,’ Oscagne assured him. ‘We were betraying each other, not you.’

‘Did anyone ever approach you?’

‘Several, actually. They couldn’t offer me anything I really wanted, though.’

‘Truth in politics, Oscagne?’ his brother asked in feigned astonishment. ‘Aren’t you setting a bad precedent?’

‘Grow up, Itagne,’ Oscagne told him. ‘Haven’t you learned by now that you can’t deceive Sarabian? He claims to be a genius, and he’s probably very close to being right – or will be as soon as we peel away his remaining illusions.’

‘Isn’t that a blunt sort of thing to say, Oscagne?’ Sarabian asked pointedly. ‘I’m right here, you know.’

‘Why – so you are, your Majesty,’ Oscagne replied with exaggerated astonishment. ‘Isn’t that amazing?’

Sarabian laughed. ‘What can I do?’ he said to Ehlana. ‘I need him too much to even object. Why didn’t you tell me about this, Oscagne?’

‘It happened when you were still feigning stupidity, your Majesty. I didn’t want to wake you. I may have met this Ynak you’ve been talking about, Anarae. One of the men who approached me was Styric, and I’ve never met a more disagreeable man. I’ve come across goats who smelled better, and the fellow was absolutely hideous. His eyes looked off in different directions, and his teeth were broken and rotting, and they all seemed to stick straight out. He looked like a man with a mouthful of brown icicles.’

‘Thy description doth closely match Zalasta’s memories of him.’

‘That one shouldn’t be too orful hord t’ find, Stragen,’ Caalador drawled. ‘I kin send word t’ Verel, iffn y’ want. This yere Why-nack ain’t likely t’ be missed much iffn he’s as on-pleasant as the Furrin Minister sez.’

Xanetia looked puzzled.

‘It’s a pose that amuses my colleague, Anarae,’ Stragen apologized. ‘He likes to put on the airs of a yokel. He says it’s for the purposes of concealment, but I think he does it just to irritate me.’

‘Thine Elenes are droll and frolicsome, Sephrenia of Ylara,’ Xanetia said.

‘I know, Anarae,’ Sephrenia sighed. ‘It’s one of the burdens I bear.’

‘Sephrenia!’ Stragen protested mildly.

‘How did you put this fellow off without getting a knife in your back, your Excellency?’ Talen asked Oscagne. ‘Declining that sort of offer is usually fatal.’

‘I told him that the price wasn’t right.’ Oscagne shrugged. ‘I said that if he could come up with a better offer, I might be interested.’

‘Very good, your Excellency,’ Caalador said admiringly. ‘What kind of reason did he give you for making the offer in the first place?’

‘He was a bit vague about it. He hinted about some kind of large-scale smuggling operation, and said that he could use the help of the foreign service to smooth the way in various kingdoms outside Tamuli. He hinted that he’d already bought off the Interior Ministry and the customs branch of the Chancellory of the Exchequer.’

‘He was lying, your Excellency,’ Stragen told him. ‘There isn’t that much money to be made in smuggling. It’s a big risk for short pay.’

‘I rather thought so myself.’ Oscagne leaned back, stroking his chin thoughtfully. ‘This group of Styrics down in Verel may think they’re very worldly, but they’re like children when compared to real criminals and international businessmen. They cooked up a story that wasn’t really very convincing. What they actually wanted was access to the government and the power of the various ministries in order to use that power to overthrow the government itself. The government had to be on the brink of collapse in order to get me to run off to Eosia to beg Prince Sparhawk to come here and save us.’

‘It worked, didn’t it?’ Itagne said bluntly.

‘Well, yes, I suppose it did, but it was so clumsy. I’d personally be ashamed to accept such a shoddy victory. It’s a matter of style, Itagne. Any amateur can blunder into occasional triumph. The true professional controls things well enough not to have to trust to luck.’

They adjourned for the night not long after that. Sparhawk watched Sephrenia and Vanion rather closely as they all filed out. The two of them exchanged a few tentative glances, but neither seemed ready to break the ice.

They gathered again the following morning, and Talen and Kalten seemed to be competing to see which of them could eat the most for breakfast.

After a bit of casual conversation, they got down to business again. ‘Right after the attempted coup here in Matherion, Krager paid me a visit,’ Sparhawk told Xanetia. ‘Was he telling the truth when he said that Cyrgon’s involved in this?’

She nodded. ‘Cyrgon hath much reason to hate the Styrics and their Gods,’ she replied. ‘The curse which hath imprisoned his Cyrgai for ten eons hath enraged him beyond all measure. The outcast Styrics in Verel did share his hatred, for they too had been punished.’ She reflected a moment. ‘We all have reason to hate Zalasta,’ she said, ‘but we cannot question his courage. It was at peril of his life that he did carry the proposal of the renegades to the Hidden City of Cyrga to place it before Cyrgon himself. The proposal was simple. By means of Bhelliom could the curse be lifted and the Cyrgai loosed once more upon this world. The Styrics could be crushed, which would please both Cyrgon and the outcasts, the Cyrgai would come to dominate the world – with positions of honor and power reserved for Ogerajin and his friends – and Aphrael would be destroyed, thus giving possession of Sephrenia to Zalasta.’