Part 23 (1/2)
11.
Heartbeats
”Just because Varellan is my brother does Varellan is my brother does not not mean I will suffer stupidity,” Duke Benigaris snarled at the knight who kneeled before him. He smacked his open palm on the arm of his throne. ”Tell him to hold firm until I arrive with the Kingfishers. If he does not, I will hang his head from the Sancellan's gate-wall!” mean I will suffer stupidity,” Duke Benigaris snarled at the knight who kneeled before him. He smacked his open palm on the arm of his throne. ”Tell him to hold firm until I arrive with the Kingfishers. If he does not, I will hang his head from the Sancellan's gate-wall!”
”Please, my lord,” said his armorer, who was hovering just to one side, ”I beg you, do not thrash about so. I am trying to measure.”
”Yes, do sit still,” added his mother. She occupied the same low but ornate chair she had when her husband ruled in Nabban. ”If you had not been making such a pig of yourself, your old armor would still fit.”
Benigaris stared at her, mustache twitching with fury. ”Thank you, Mother.”
”And do not be so cruel to Varellan. He is hardly more than a child.”
”He is a dawdling, simpering halfwit-and it is you who spoiled him. Who talked me into letting him lead the troops at the Onestrine Pa.s.s, in any case?”
Dowager d.u.c.h.ess Nessalanta waved her hand in airy dismissal. ”Anyone could hold that pa.s.s against a ragtag mob like Josua's. I I could. And the experience will do him good.” could. And the experience will do him good.”
The duke jerked his arm free of the armorer's grasp and slammed it on the chair arm once more. ”By the Tree, Mother! He has given up two leagues in less than a fortnight, despite having several thousand foot soldiers and half a thousand knights. He is falling back so fast that by the time I ride out the front door, I will probably trip over him.”
”Xannasavin says there is nothing to fret about,” she replied, amused. ”He has examined the skies carefully. Benigaris, please calm yourself. Be a man.”
The duke's stare was icy. His jaw worked for a moment before he spoke. ”One of these days, Mother, you will push me too far.”
”And what will you do-throw me into the cells? Cut off my head?” Her look become fierce. ”You need me. Not to mention the respect you owe the one who bore you.”
Benigaris scowled, took a deep breath, then turned his attention back to the knight who had delivered young Varellan's message. ”What do you wait for?” he demanded. ”You heard what I had to say. Now go and tell him.”
The knight rose and made an elaborate bow, then turned and walked from the throne room. The ladies in colorful dresses who were talking quietly near the door watched him go, then huddled and began discussing something that caused them to giggle loudly.
Benigaris again tugged his wrist free of the armorer's clutch, this time so he could snap his fingers at one of the pages, who trotted over with a cup of wine.
The duke took a draught and wiped his mouth. ”There is more to Josua's army than we first thought. People say that the High King's brother has found a mighty knight who fights at the head of his army. They are claiming it is Camaris. Seriddan of Metessa believes it, or at least he has joined them.” He grimaced. ”Traitorous dog.”
Nessalanta laughed sourly. ”I didn't give Josua as much credit as he deserved, I admit. It is a clever ploy. Nothing arouses the common folk like the mention of your uncle's name. But Seriddan? You ask me to worry about him and a few other puny barons from the wilderness? The Metessan Crane hasn't flown from the palace towers in five hundred years. They are n.o.bodies.”
”So you are quite sure that this talk of Sir Camaris is just a ploy?” Benigaris' words, intended to be mocking, came out a little hollow.
”Of course it is! How could it be him? Camaris is forty years dead.”
”But his body was never found. Father always agonized because he couldn't give his brother an Aedonite burial.”
The d.u.c.h.ess made a noise of dismissal but kept her eyes on her needlework. ”I knew Camaris, my brave son. You did not. Even if he had joined a monastery or gone into hiding, word would have leaked out: he was so madly honest he could never have lied to anyone who asked him who he was. And he was so self-satisfied, such a meddler, that it is not possible he would have stood by while Prester John fought the second Thrithings War without leaping in to be Camaris the Magnificent, Camaris the Holy, Camaris the Great.” Nessalanta p.r.i.c.ked her finger and cursed under her breath. ”No, this is no living Camaris that Josua has found-and it is certainly no ghost. It is some tall imposter, some oversized gra.s.sland mercenary with his hair whitened with powder. A trick. But it makes no difference in any case.” She examined her st.i.tchery for a moment, then put the hoop down with an air of satisfaction. ”Even the real Camaris could not unseat us. We are too strong ... and his age is gone, gone, gone.”
Benigaris looked at her appraisingly. ”Unseat us... ?” he began, but was interrupted by a movement at the room's far end. A herald with the golden kingfisher sigil on his tabard had appeared in the throne room doorway.
”Your Highness,” the man said in loud ceremonial tones. ”Count Streawe of Ansis Pellipe arrives at your summons.”
The duke settled back, a smile tightening his lips. ”Ah, yes. Send the count in.”
Streawe's litter was carried through the doors and set near the great high-arched windows that overlooked the sea, windows covered today in heavy draperies to keep out the cold air. The count's minions lifted out his chair and put it down before the dais that bore the ducal throne.
The count coughed, then caught his breath. ”Greetings, Duke,” he wheezed. ”And d.u.c.h.ess Nessalanta, what a pleasure to see you! As usual, please forgive my sitting without your leave.”
”Of course, of course,” Benigaris said cheerfully. ”And how is your catarrh, Streawe? I cannot think that it is helped by our cold sea air. I know how warm you keep your house on Sta Mirore.”
”As a matter of fact, Benigaris, I had wished to speak to you of just that ...” the old man began, but the duke cut him short.
”First things first, I regret to say. Forgive me my impatience, but we are at war as you know. I am a blunt man.”
Streawe nodded. ”Your straightforwardness is well-known, my friend.”
”Yes. So, to the point, then. Where are my riverboats? Where are my Perdruinese troops?”
The count raised a white eyebrow ever so slightly, but his voice and manner remained unperturbed. ”Oh, all are coming, Highness. Never fear. When has Perdruin not honored a debt to her elder sister Nabban?”
”But it has been two months,” Benigaris said with mock sternness. ”Streawe, Streawe, my old friend ... I might almost think that you were putting me off-that for some reason you were trying to stall me.”
This time the count's eyebrows betrayed no surprise, but nevertheless a subtle, indefinable change ran across his face. His eyes glittered in their net of wrinkled flesh. ”I am disappointed that Nabban could think such a thing of Perdruin after our long and honorable partners.h.i.+p.” Streawe dipped his head. ”But it is true that the boats you wish for river transport have been slow in coming-and for that I apologize most abjectly. You see, even with the many messages I have sent back home to Ansis Pellipe, detailing your needs with great care, there is no one who can get things accomplished in the way that I can when I take them in hand personally. I do not wish to malign my servitors, but, as we Perdruinese say, 'when the captain is below decks, there are many places to stretch a hammock.' ” The count brought his long, gnarled fingers up to brush something from his upper lip. ”I should go back to Ansis Pellipe, Benigaris. As sad as I should be to lose the company of you and your beloved mother-” he smiled at Nessalanta, ”-I feel confident that I could send your riverboats and the troop of soldiers we agree on within a week after returning.” He coughed again, a wracking spasm that went on for some moments before he regained his wind. ”And for all the beauty of your palace, it is, as you said, a trifle airier than my own house. My health has worsened here, I fear.”
”Just so,” said Benigaris. ”Just so. We all fear for your health, Count. It has been much on my mind of late. And the men and boats, too.” He paused, regarding Streawe with a smile that seemed increasingly smug. ”That is why I could not allow you to leave just now. A sea voyage at this moment-why, your catarrh would certainly worsen. And let me be brutally honest, dear Count ... but only because Nabban loves you so. If you were to grow more ill, not only would I hold myself responsible, but certainly it would also slow the arrival of boats and men even more. For if they are haphazard now, with your careful instructions, imagine how laggard they would become with you ill and unable to oversee them at all. There would be many hammocks stretched then, I'm sure!”
Streawe's eyes narrowed. ”Ah. So you are saying that you think it best I do not leave just now?”
”Oh, dear Count, I am insisting insisting you remain.” Benigaris, tiring at last of the ministrations of his armorer, waved the man away. ”I could not forgive myself if I did anything less. Surely after the boats and your troop of soldiers arrive to help us defend against this madman Josua, the weather will have turned warm enough that you can safely travel again.” you remain.” Benigaris, tiring at last of the ministrations of his armorer, waved the man away. ”I could not forgive myself if I did anything less. Surely after the boats and your troop of soldiers arrive to help us defend against this madman Josua, the weather will have turned warm enough that you can safely travel again.”
The count considered this for a moment, giving every impression of weighing Benigaris' arguments. ”By Pellipa and her bowl,” he said at last, ”I can see the sense of what you are saying, Benigaris.” His tight grin displayed surprisingly good teeth. ”And I am touched at the concern you show for an old friend of your father's.”
”I honor you just as I honored him.”
”Indeed.” Streawe's smile now became almost gentle. ”How lovely that is. Honor is in such short supply in these grim days.” He waved a k.n.o.bby hand, summoning his bearers. ”I suspect that I should send another letter to Ansis Pellipe, urging my castellain and boatwrights to hasten their efforts even more.”
”That sounds like a very good idea, Count. A very good idea.” Benigaris sat back against the throne and finger-brushed his mustache. ”Will we see you at table tonight?”
”Oh, I think you will. Where else would I find such kind and considerate friends?” He leaned forward on his chair, sketching a bow. ”d.u.c.h.ess Nessalanta-a pleasure as always, gracious lady.”
Nessalanta smiled and nodded. ”Count Streawe.”
The old man was lifted back into his litter. After the curtain was drawn, his four servitors carried him from the throne room.
”I do not think you needed to be so ham-fisted,” said Nessalanta when the count had gone. ”He is no danger to us. Since when have sticky-fingered Perdruinese ever wanted more than to earn a little gold?”
”They have been known to accept coins from more than one pocket.” Benigaris lifted his cup. ”This way, Streawe will have a much stronger wish to see us victorious. He is not a stupid man.”
”No, he certainly is not. That is why I don't understand the need to use such a heavy hand.”