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“Ah, but this particular u
For a second or two, Triahm seemed not to have heard him at all. Then he whipped around from the window, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“You’re joking!”
“Not in the least, Milord,” Varnaythus said calmly. “It’s remotely possible my information is in error,” actually, he knew it wasn’t; he’d been tracking Leeana in his gramerhain for the last several days and witnessed her arrival in Kalatha the day before, “but I have every reason to believe it’s accurate. If she hasn’t arrived in Kalatha already, it’s only a matter of a day or so before she does.”
“Well, well, well,” the other man murmured. He moved away from the window and lowered himself slowly into his own chair, never taking his eyes from Varnaythus’ face. “That does present some possibilities, doesn’t it?”
“I believe you might reasonably say that, Milord,” Varnaythus replied in the voice of a tomcat with cream-clotted whiskers.
“Tellian’s always been overly soft where those bitches are concerned,” Triahm growled. “Probably because his idiot of an ancestor provided them with the initial foothold to begin their pollution of the Kingdom. Personally, that co
“It’s certainly possible,” Varnaythus agreed. For his part, he’d always found Triahm’s blindly bigoted, unthinking hatred for the war maids and all they stood for as stupid as it was useful. He doubted that a man like Tellian would ever fall prey to its like, however.
On the other hand, Tellian was a Sothoii, and now that his daughter had succeeded in reaching the war maids before he overtook her, it was at least possible he would react exactly as Triahm anticipated. Which, after all, was one of the reasons Varnaythus had decided against attempting to intercept and assassinate the girl. Kaeritha’s presence was the other reason, he admitted frankly to himself. Champions of Tomanak were hard to kill, even—or especially—by arcane means. Still, he’d felt sufficiently confident of managing it to have justified the risk of a few proxies, at least.
But however badly her death might have hurt and weakened her parents, the Dark Gods would weaken the kingdom far more seriously if their servants could set the Lord Warden of the West Riding openly against the war maids. Even if Tellian managed to avoid that particular trap, having his only child run away to become a despised war maid was going to cost him dearly in political support from the more conservative members of the Royal Council. Not to mention all of the delicious possibilities for destabilizing the war maids’ charter when the question of the Balthar succession was thrown into the mix.
The wizard-priest rubbed mental hands together in gleeful contemplation of the possibilities, but he kept his expression composed and attentive.
“Even if it doesn’t,” Triahm went on, thinking aloud and unaware of his guest’s own thoughts, “this is bound to have a major impact. It’s going to drag Tellian right into the middle of Trisu’s little difficulties.” He smiled nastily. “It should be interesting to see which way that pushes my dear, irritating cousin.”
“If Tellian does end up at odds with the war maids himself, it’s likely to embolden Trisu considerably,” Varnaythus pointed out. “I imagine he’ll become even more persistent in pressing his claims if he thinks Tellian will openly support him. And I’d be surprised if those claims didn’t harden and become more extensive, as well.”
“But even if Tellian is gutless enough to swallow the shame, the fact that his precious daughter has seen fit to join one side of the dispute will compel him to be very careful about his own position,” Triahm said. “If he supports the war maids, he’ll be accused of favoritism.”
“Perhaps so,” Varnaythus said. “On the other hand, if he openly supports Trisu, at least some people will accuse him of doing so because he’s angry with the war maids and wants to punish them.”
“Either outcome could be useful to us,” Triahm observed, begi
“He won’t be able to remain neutral very much longer, whatever happens with his daughter,” Varnaythus assured him. “Unless I very much miss my guess, the tension on both sides is rapidly approaching the critical level.”
He considered informing Triahm of who had become Leeana’s escort to Kalatha, and decided—again—that warning him of the incipient arrival of a champion of Tomanak in Lorham wouldn’t exactly fill him with confidence.
“When it does, it’s going to lead to open conflict between Trisu and Kalatha, probably with Quaysar going up in flames at the same time,” he said instead, and his smile was even nastier than Triahm’s had been. “Once it comes to outright warfare, Tellian’s going to be forced to take a position, whether he wants to or not, or be accused of ignoring his responsibility to enforce the King’s peace. Under the circumstances, I don’t believe he’ll have very much choice other than to back his own vassal, Trisu, against Kalatha.”
“Only, of course, it won’t be Trisu, will it?” An ugly light danced in Triahm’s gray eyes, and Varnaythus carefully hid a smile of triumph. The man was so predictable it was pathetic.
“Not if our plans succeed, Milord,” he agreed.
“And they will succeed,” Triahm said flatly, and gave Varnaythus an ominous glance. “Your man is already in position, is he not?”
“Have no fear, Milord,” Varnaythus said smoothly. “My agent—” if Triahm wanted to assume that Varnaythus’ assassin (well, Salgahn’s, if the wizard-priest wanted to be accurate) was a man, that was fine with him “— is ready to strike when the moment is right. But that moment won’t come until we can provoke the proper level of violence between your cousin and Kalatha and be sure suspicion is directed where we want it to go.”
“Understood, understood,” Triahm said in an irritated tone, waving one hand dismissively. “Of course the timing is critical. But once he’s gone, and the blame for his death is laid in the proper quarter, there will be no suspicions of me when I assume the titles which ought to have been mine. And it will give me the excuse I need to burn that cancer at Kalatha out of the flesh of Lorham once and for all!”
“So it will, Milord,” Varnaythus agreed. “So it will.”
“He truly is an idiot, isn’t he?”
“Triahm?” a soft, throaty contralto said from behind Varnaythus. The contralto’s owner laughed. “Are you only just now realizing that?”
“Scarcely, Dahlaha,” Varnaythus said dryly. It was his turn to gaze out of a window over the night-darkened streets of Thalar. It was a much nicer window than the one in Triahm’s office, although Triahm had paid for both of them.
The wizard-priest craned his neck, gazing up past the luxurious mansion’s overhanging eaves at a night sky the color of darkest cobalt and full of stars. There was no moon tonight, which was probably a good sign, he told himself. Then he turned away from the stars and back to business.
His hostess, reclining on the chaise longue across the table from him, was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. He admitted that candidly, yet her beauty didn’t really appeal to him. He could appreciate and admire her sleek, golden hair and huge blue eyes, the impeccable bone structure of her graceful, oval face and high cheekbones, and the svelte lines of the richly curved figure which hovered just this side of overripeness. But the pouting mouth that whispered passion to other men whispered to him of corruption.