The Sword Of Angels

26

King Baralosus looked across the table at Minister Kailyr, exhausted and wanting to quit. They had been stuck in the squalid chamber most of the morning, going over ledgers and papers that burdened the table and spilled over onto the floor. Empty tea cups and half-eaten morsels lay scattered among the papers, the remnants of meals meant to keep them going. Kailyr, who always enjoyed this time of the season, smiled despite the drudgery, looking invigorated by the amount of work still ahead of them. It was accounting work, the kind of thing Kailyr excelled at, and the Ganjeese Minister of Treasure always insisted that his king be present at least once a season while the ledgers were balanced. It was an unnecessary formality, a way for Kailyr to prove that his vast department was without corruption. More importantly, it gave the king a true impression of how his treasury was faring. Kailyr worked with his usual aplomb, tabulating every important transaction and making notes in his ledgers with his favourite quill, a dandy pen with a white ostrich feather. He was Baralosus’ most trusted advisor and had been with the king since their boyhoods, and because he was so loyal Baralosus indulged him like this four times a year, pretending to take interest in the dull work of accounting.

‘We have more orders with Marn still coming,’ said Kailyr, referring to their fruit trade with their northern neighbour. The Marnans had always adored Ganjeese dates and pomegranates, and the past season had yielded fine crops of both. Kailyr grinned in delight as he noted the order in his ledger. The accounting of the crops had taken longer than usual, but the Minister seemed in no hurry to finish.

‘Good,’ said Baralosus. ‘That’s good news.’

He knew what his old friend was trying to do, and in an odd way Baralosus appreciated it. It had been days since he’d learned of Salina’s disappearance, and so far he’d heard nothing of her welfare or location. The entire palace had been mourning her loss, sure that she’d perished somewhere in the desert. Baralosus own wife was shunning him, blaming him for driving their daughter away. The pall over the palace had driven Baralosus to depression, yet he was grateful for Kailyr’s attempt to distract him.

When will they come? he wondered to himself, not even hearing Kailyr as the Minister counted aloud. Four days ago, Jashien and Zasif had left for Aztar’s camp, and so far neither man had returned. Are they dead? Has Aztar killed them?

He had tried to stop asking these questions, but they came anyway, flooding his fevered mind. He spent long hours staring out the palace windows, waiting for Salina — or anyone with news of her — to return. Kailyr had seen the senselessness of this and insisted that the king join him in the counting chamber. For a man who’d spent his entire life with numbers, Kailyr was surprisingly wise.

Kailyr licked the tip of his ostrich pen, then dipped it into his ink well. ‘Look, Majesty — I have found an error! Those merchants who came from Dreel last year — did they pay all they owed?’

‘How should I know, Kailyr? I’m the king, remember? Counting coins is your job.’

‘Of course, Majesty. But I have an imbalance here.’ The Minister wrinkled his beakish nose. He loved puzzles, and always took glee in finding mistakes. ‘Let me see. .’

As Kailyr worked, Baralosus poured himself some wine. He had already drank more than he should for so early an hour, but boredom had got the best of him and the wine helped to loosen his knotted shoulders. Part of him worried that he would never see Salina again. Part of him believed his wife’s accusations, that his cruelty to their daughter had driven her away. But another part of him — the part that knew Salina best — believed in her. She had always been a wily girl, and not at all stupid. She had planned her escape from the city well, and if anyone could survive the desert alone, it was she. Baralosus tried to convince himself of this, using the wine as a balm.

The afternoon wore on like the morning had, with the two men talking about things that didn’t really matter, things that a king should not trouble himself with but which Kailyr insisted was important. Eventually, Baralosus succumbed to his friend’s peculiar charms, so blunted by the wine that he no longer cared how many hours they wasted. They broke for a proper meal at midday, a great respite for Baralosus, but at the Minister’s insistence they went back to work exactly one hour later. Baralosus returned just as the last sands drained from Kailyr’s hourglass. The Minister looked up from his papers at the king.

‘I didn’t think you’d come back,’ he said, gently grinning.

Baralosus took his chair. ‘You would have found me if I didn’t.’ A young serving girl offered him a drink from a collection of northern liquors. The king looked at the girl askance. ‘I didn’t order these.’

‘I did, Majesty,’ said Kailyr. ‘I thought they’d help us pass the time.’

The king smiled at his Minister, told the girl to set her tray down, then dismissed her. He sighed across the table at Kailyr.

‘Much more?’

The Minister shrugged. ‘We could go on for days.’

‘Please, let’s not do that.’

‘No,’ agreed Kailyr. ‘Really, it’s just something to do. While you wait, I mean.’

Baralosus nodded. ‘I know.’

There was silence between them, awkward and tense. The door behind Baralosus opened. He assumed another servant had come in, but then saw Kailyr push his work aside. The king hesitated, then quickly turned around. In the threshold stood one of his grooms, a man named Goval. The groom’s taut face told the king something had happened.

‘Majesty, forgive me. .’

‘Goval? What is it?’ asked the king. He heard the dread in his voice and tried to tame it. ‘Is there news?’

‘Majesty, Jashien and Zasif have returned,’ said Goval.

‘Well?’ barked Kailyr. ‘Do they have the princess with them?’

‘No,’ said Goval nervously. ‘I’m sorry, Majesty. They are alone.’

The news sent Baralosus crashing. He leaned back in his chair, unable to speak.

‘Where are they?’ asked Kailyr.

‘They’ve only just arrived,’ said Goval. ‘They’ve barely got off their horses. I heard the news and ran up here to tell you.’ The groom looked at his stricken king. ‘Shall I bring them, Majesty?’

It took effort for Baralosus to speak. ‘Yes,’ he groaned. Then, ‘No. Just Jashien, I mean. Just bring Jashien.’

‘Quickly, man,’ urged Kailyr. ‘Bring him here and don’t talk to anyone else.’

As Goval left the chamber, Baralosus felt himself go numb. It was bad news at least that his scouts had returned alone, and all he could think of was his daughter — his precious Salina — dead somewhere in the desert. The thought made his mind reel, forcing him to grip the arms of his chair. Kailyr, seeing his indisposition, went to stand beside him.

‘It is Vala’s will, whatever has happened,’ he said softly.

The notion did little to comfort the king. ‘She’s my daughter. .’

The Minister nodded and leaned against the table. A few interminable minutes went by until they heard Goval’s footsteps returning down the hall. Baralosus hurried out of his chair and stuck his head outside the door, at once seeing his groom leading Jashien toward the chamber. The soldier looked weary beyond words, his hair matted, his clothing caked with filth. He hadn’t shaved in days and his eyes had a wild, sunken appearance. When Jashien saw his king he mustered up a strong fac?ade.

‘Jashien?’ probed Baralosus. ‘What news?’

Minister Kailyr took his friend’s arm and guided him back into the chamber. ‘Inside, Majesty. Jashien, come inside.’

Baralosus let Kailyr sit him back in his chair. He looked up expectantly at Jashien. ‘Have you news?’ he asked. ‘Have you found her?’

‘I have, Majesty, and she is well,’ said the soldier. ‘Don’t fear for her. She is unharmed.’

The king let out the breath he’d been holding. ‘She’s unharmed,’ he whispered. ‘Thank Vala, she’s unharmed. Where is she?’

‘We found her in Aztar’s camp in the Skein, Majesty. That’s where she remains. Aztar had men rescue her from the desert. She was lost, on foot when they found her. She would have died if not for him.’

‘Aztar saved her?’ Baralosus couldn’t believe the luck of it. ‘He actually found her?’

‘She was on his way to him, just as you thought,’ said Jashien. He licked his lips, which were so dry they looked bloody. He cleared his hoarse voice. ‘She wasn’t in camp yet when Zasif and I got there. She didn’t come till the next day.’

‘Jashien, sit,’ bid Kailyr, holding out his own chair for the soldier. ‘You look about to drop. Goval, you may go now.’

The groom gave his king a glance to make sure he was no longer needed. Baralosus quickly waved him away. Kailyr handed his own wine glass to Jashien, who thanked the Minister and drank. Baralosus waited impatiently for the soldier to finish.

‘Majesty,’ said Jashien, ‘there’s more.’ He steadied himself. ‘The princess is well, have no fear of that. I spoke to her myself and saw no harm in her. But she would not come back with us to Ganjor. She refused, Majesty.’

‘What do you mean, she refused?’ asked the king. ‘You had orders to return her.’

‘I know, Majesty, and we tried. But she wanted only to stay with Aztar, and Aztar would not release her to us.’

‘That girl!’ Kailyr erupted. ‘She has worked her wiles on him again!’

Baralosus put up a hand to silence the Minister. ‘Jashien,’ he said evenly, ‘explain this to me. You were sent to bring my daughter back. Are you telling me you left her there? With Aztar?’

The young soldier swallowed nervously. ‘Yes, Majesty.’

‘Why?’ thundered Baralosus. ‘In the name of Vala tell me why! She’s just a girl — was she too much for you?’

‘She is under Aztar’s protection, Majesty,’ Jashien argued. ‘You sent two men after me — me and Zasif. Aztar has many men, and all of them are willing to die for him. We tried to reason with him, but he refused to let us take her against her will, and there was no way we could force him.’

‘We’ll force him,’ Kailyr argued. ‘We’ll send an army after Salina if we must!’

‘That would be better, I think, then sending just two men against him,’ suggested Jashien. ‘I am sorry, Majesty, but I returned without her because I knew you were worried and wanted news. I’ll go back for her, right now if that’s what you wish, but please give me something to threaten Aztar.’

‘He’s a fox, that one,’ said Kailyr. ‘He’s always wanted the Princess and power both. Now he means to ransom her.’

‘He says not,’ said Jashien. ‘When I asked him that same thing he was insulted.’

‘Of course he was! He’s not going to admit it.’ Kailyr turned toward his king. ‘Majesty, you cannot let this stand. Once the people hear what Aztar’s done, they will demand action. You must send men after her, as many men as needed.’

‘And I will lead them gladly,’ Jashien added. ‘Give me the enough men, and I’ll bring the Princess back to you, Majesty.’

Baralosus’ head ached with confusion. Jashien’s news had stunned him, and he was still overwhelmed at Salina’s welfare. Part of him rejoiced that she was well. But another, darker part began to scheme. Prince Aztar had always been an ambitious man, a player of games. That political muscle that Baralosus used to detect deceit told him that Salina had become one of Aztar’s pawns.

‘Jashien, thank you,’ said the king. ‘I’m grateful to you. We’ll talk again tonight.’

The soldier grimaced. ‘Majesty?’

‘You’re dismissed,’ said Baralosus. ‘Go and rest now.’

Minister Kailyr raised an eyebrow, but had the good sense not to speak until Jashien left the room. He and the king watched Jashien go. Kailyr closed the door behind him.

‘You’re thinking something,’ said Kailyr. ‘Tell me what it is.’

King Baralosus took his time. He leaned back, he cracked his knuckles, he sorted through his confusion. Aztar was playing a bold game this time, but he had the most important game piece. He had Salina. The king doubted very much that the Tiger of the Desert would harm her. He loved her, after all, and Baralosus knew his love was genuine. Surely, that could be a lever.

‘He wants something from us,’ said the king finally. ‘Salina, certainly. Power, probably. A place at the table.’

‘We can’t bargain with him, Majesty,’ said Kailyr. ‘By refusing to return Salina he has spat in your face. If you let that stand there will be trouble, not just with your ministers but with the people.’

‘The people adore Aztar, Kailyr. Not all of them, but enough of them. He’s a hero. If we harm him, we’ll undercut ourselves.’

‘If you let him blackmail you, you do yourself the same damage,’ said Kailyr. He hovered over the king like a shadow. ‘Listen to me, Baralosus. Aztar has been a problem long enough. It’s time to deal with him.’

‘Deal with him. You mean kill him.’

‘Yes, I mean kill him. Right now.’

Baralosus considered his friend’s counsel. It was not without appeal. Inside, he raged at the insult Aztar had delivered, taking his daughter from him, the sheer gall of standing up to the king. But that was what the Ganjeese loved about him. It was what had drawn so many Voruni tribesmen to his banner. There was a glamour about Aztar, a magic cloak that made people adore him. He was dangerous alive, surely. But dead?

‘If we kill him, he’ll be an unspeakable menace,’ said Baralosus. ‘The Voruni will blame us, and so will some of our own people. It would be a bloodbath.’

‘He’s not as strong as he was,’ Kailyr reminded him. ‘He lost most of his men at Jador.’

‘He has enough still to harm us, and he still has my daughter, remember. What would he do to her if he saw our army marching toward him?’

‘He would let her go without a scratch,’ said the Minister confidently. ‘You know he’d never harm her.’

‘And should I chance that? We need another answer, Kailyr, something that gets us all out of this mess.’

‘A bargain, you mean.’ Kailyr looked disgusted. ‘Mark my words, Majesty, this is a mistake.’

Baralosus turned away from his Minister, looking at all the ledgers strewn across the table. His family had more wealth than any other in the city. He could pay a hefty ransom for Salina and never miss the gold. But he knew that Aztar wanted something more than gold, something that only he, the king, could legally grant.

‘I have bargained with devils before,’ said Baralosus, ‘and so have you, old friend. It’s politics, always.’

Kailyr’s expression went from disgust to a kind of grudging understanding. He was an old fox, just like his king, and understood the ways of politics.

‘I see your meaning, Majesty,’ he said.

He was quiet for a time, and then went back to his books.